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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The House 'Round the Corner, by Gordon Holmes
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The House 'Round the Corner
+
+
+Author: Gordon Holmes
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 12, 2012  [eBook #39432]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D Alexander, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://archive.org/details/houseroundcorner00traciala
+
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER
+
+by
+
+GORDON HOLMES
+
+Author of
+A Mysterious Disappearance, The Arncliffe Puzzle, etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright, 1919, by
+Edward J. Clode
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                            PAGE
+
+        I. WHEREIN THE HOUSE RECEIVES A NEW TENANT                      1
+
+       II. SHOWING HOW EVEN A HOUSE MAY HAVE A WAY OF ITS OWN          21
+
+      III. A MIDNIGHT SEANCE                                           42
+
+       IV. SHOWING HOW EXPLANATIONS DO NOT ALWAYS EXPLAIN              63
+
+        V. GATHERING CLOUDS                                            84
+
+       VI. THE STORM BREAKS                                           106
+
+      VII. A FAINT-HEARTED ALLY                                       127
+
+     VIII. WHERIN PERCY WHITTAKER PROVES HIMSELF A MAN OF ACTION      147
+
+       IX. SHOWING THE REAL STRENGTH OF AN ILLUSION                   167
+
+        X. ARMATHWAITE STATES A CASE                                  185
+
+       XI. PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE                                    206
+
+      XII. THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY                                 226
+
+     XIII. DEUS EX MACHINA                                            246
+
+      XIV. IN WHICH THE AREA WIDENS                                   267
+
+       XV. THE LAYING OF THE GHOST                                    287
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+WHEREIN THE HOUSE RECEIVES A NEW TENANT
+
+
+The train had panted twelve miles up a sinuous valley, halting at three
+tiny stations on the way; it dwelt so long at the fourth that the
+occupant of a first-class carriage raised his eyes from the book he was
+reading. He found the platform packed with country folk, all heading in
+the same direction. Hitherto, this heedless traveller had been aware of
+some station-master or porter bawling an unintelligible name; now, his
+fellow-passengers seemed to know what place this was without being told;
+moreover, they seemed to be alighting there.
+
+A porter, whose face, hands, and clothing were of one harmonious tint,
+suggesting that he had been dipped bodily in some brownish dye, and then
+left to dry in the sun, opened the door.
+
+"Aren't you gettin' out, sir?" he inquired, and his tone implied both
+surprise and pain.
+
+"Is this Nuttonby?" said the passenger.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why this crush of traffic?"
+
+"It's market day, sir."
+
+"Thanks. I didn't expect to see such a crowd. Have you a parcels
+office, where I can leave some baggage?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Hang on to this bag, then. There are three boxes in the van. You'll
+need a barrow--they're heavy!"
+
+By this time, the man who knew so little of important Nuttonby--which
+held 3,005 inhabitants in the 1911 census, having increased by two since
+1901--had risen, and was collecting a fisherman's outfit, and some odds
+and ends of personal belongings. He followed the porter, who, on eyeing
+the rods and pannier, and with some knowledge of "county" manners, had
+accepted the stranger as entitled to hold a first-class ticket. Sure
+enough, the boxes were heavy. The guard had to assist in handling them.
+
+"By gum!" said the porter, when he tried to lift the first on to a
+trolley.
+
+"Books," explained the traveler.
+
+"I thought mebbe they wuz lead," said the porter.
+
+"Some books have that quality," said the other.
+
+The guard, a reader in his spare time, smiled. The owner of so much
+solid literature seized a stout leather handle.
+
+"I'll give you a hand," he said, and the porter soon added to his slight
+store of facts concerning the newcomer. This tall, sparsely-built man
+in tweeds and a deer-stalker cap was no weakling.
+
+The platform was nearly empty when the porter began to trundle the
+loaded trolley along its length. A pert youth appeared from nowhere, and
+cried "Ticket!" firmly, almost threateningly. He was given a first-class
+ticket from York, and a receipt for excess luggage. The bit of white
+paste-board startled him. "Thank you, sir," he said. First-class
+passengers were rare birds at Nuttonby; too late, he knew he ought to
+have said "Ticket, please!"
+
+The same pert youth, appearing again from nowhere, officiated in the
+parcels office. He noticed that none of the articles bore a name or
+initials; they were brand-new; their only railway labels were "York,
+from King's Cross," and "Nuttonby, from York."
+
+"Book the bag and these small articles separately," he was instructed.
+"I may want them soon. The boxes may be sent for this afternoon; I don't
+know yet." He turned to the porter: "Is there a house agent in the
+town?"
+
+"Yes, sir--two."
+
+"Which is the better--the man with the larger _clientèle_--sorry, I mean
+with the greater number of houses on his books?"
+
+"Well, sir, Walker an' Son have bin in business here fifty year an'
+more."
+
+"I'll try Walker. Where's his place?"
+
+"Next door the 'Red Lion,' sir."
+
+Then the youth, anxious to atone, and rather quicker-witted than the
+brown-hued one, got in a word.
+
+"The 'Red Lion' is halfway up the main street, sir. Turn to your right
+when you leave here, an' you're there in two minutes."
+
+"I'll show the gentleman," said the porter, who had decided a month ago
+that this blooming kid was putting on airs. He was as good as his
+word--or nearly so. A tip of half a crown was stupefying, but he
+gathered his wits in time to say brokenly at the exit:
+
+"Wu-Wu-Walker's is straight up, sir."
+
+Straight up the stranger went. The wide street was crammed with stalls,
+farmers' carts, carriers' carts, dog-carts, even a couple of
+automobiles, for Wednesday, being market day, was also police-court day
+and Board of Guardians day. He passed unheeded. On Wednesdays, Nuttonby
+was a metropolis; on any other day in the week he would have drawn
+dozens of curious eyes, peeping surreptitiously over short curtains, or
+more candidly in the open. Of course, he was seen by many, since
+Nuttonby was not so metropolitan that it failed to detect a new face,
+even on Wednesdays; but his style and appearance were of the gentry;
+Nuttonby decided that he had strayed in from some "big" house in the
+district.
+
+Walker & Son, it would seem, were auctioneers, land valuers, and probate
+estimators as well as house agents. Their office was small, but not
+retiring. It displayed a well-developed rash of sale posters, inside and
+out. One, in particular, was heroic in size. It told of a "spacious
+mansion, with well-timbered park," having been put up for auction--five
+years earlier. Whiteness of paper and blackness of type suggested that
+Walker & Son periodically renewed this aristocrat among auction
+announcements--perhaps to kindle a selling spirit among the landed
+gentry, a notoriously conservative and hold-tight class.
+
+A young man, seated behind a counter, reading a sporting newspaper, and
+smoking a cigarette, rose hastily when the caller entered.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said, thereby implying instant readiness to engage in one
+or all of the firm's activities.
+
+"Are you Mr. Walker?" said the newcomer.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Ah! I thought you might be the son."
+
+"Well, I am, if it comes to that. Do you want my father?"
+
+Walker, junior, was a Nuttonby "nut"--a sharp young blade who did not
+tolerate chaff.
+
+"I want to rent a furnished house in or near a quiet country village,
+where there is some good fishing," was the answer. "Now, you can
+determine whether I should trouble Mr. Walker, senior, or not?"
+
+"No trouble at all, sir! He'll be here in ten seconds."
+
+Walker, junior, had nearly made the same mistake as the
+ticket-collecting youth; however, he estimated time correctly. He went
+out, put his head through the open window of the "Red Lion's"
+bar-parlor, and shouted: "Dad, you're wanted!" Thus, within ten seconds,
+the stranger saw the firm!
+
+He repeated his need, and there was a great parade of big-leafed books,
+while the elder Walker ascertained the prospective client's exact
+requirements. Whittled down to bare facts, they amounted to this: A
+house, in a small and remote village, and a trout stream. The absolute
+seclusion of the village and its diminutive proportions were insisted
+on, and property after property was rejected, though the Walkers were
+puzzled to know why.
+
+This distinguished-looking man wished to find a dwelling far removed
+from any social center. His ideal was a tiny moorland hamlet, miles from
+the railway, and out of the beaten track of summer visitors. Suddenly,
+the son cried:
+
+"Elmdale is the very place, dad!"
+
+Dad's face brightened, but clouded again instantly.
+
+"You mean--er--the house 'round the corner?" he said, pursing his lips.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'm afraid it wouldn't suit."
+
+"Why not?" put in the stranger. "I rather like the name."
+
+"I didn't mention any name, sir," and Walker, senior, still looked glum.
+
+"You described it as the house 'round the corner--an excellent name. It
+attracts me. Where is Elmdale?"
+
+The head of the firm pointed to a map of the North Riding hanging above
+the fireplace.
+
+"Here you are," he said, seizing a pen and running it along the
+meandering black line of a stream. "Eight miles from Nuttonby, and
+thousands from every other town--on the edge of the moor--about forty
+houses in the village--and a first-rate beck, with trout running from
+four ounces to half a pound--but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"The house, sir. You won't like the house."
+
+"What's wrong with it?"
+
+"Nothing. It's comfortable enough, and well furnished."
+
+Yet again he hesitated.
+
+"Why, it appears to be, as your son said, the very place."
+
+Walker, senior, smiled drearily. He knew what was coming.
+
+"I can't recommend it, sir, and for this reason. A gentleman named
+Garth--Mr. Stephen Garth; some sort of professor, I understand--lived
+there a many years, with his wife and daughter. Nice, quiet people they
+were, and the young lady was a beauty. No one could make out why they
+should wish to be buried alive in a hole like Elmdale, but they seemed
+happy enough. Then, two years since, in this very month of June, Mrs.
+Garth and the girl drove into Nuttonby in their governess car, and went
+off by train, sending the trap back by a hired man. Mr. Garth mooned
+about for a week or two, and then hanged himself one evening alongside a
+grandfather's clock which stands in the hall. That made a rare stir, I
+can tell you; since then, no one will look at the Grange, which is its
+proper name. I need hardly say that the villagers have seen Mr. Garth's
+ghost many times, particularly in June, because in that month the
+setting sun throws a peculiar shadow through a stained-glass window on
+the half landing. Last year I let the place to a Sheffield family who
+wanted moorland air. My! What a row there was when Mrs. Wilkins heard of
+the suicide, and, of course, saw the ghost! It was all I could do to
+stave off an action for damages. 'Never again,' said I. 'If anybody
+else rents or buys the house, they take the ghost with it.'"
+
+"Is it for sale?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Neither Mrs. Garth nor Miss Marguérite have come near Elmdale
+since they left. They didn't attend the funeral, and I may add, in
+confidence, that Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, solicitors in this town, who
+have charge of their affairs--so far as the ownership of the Grange
+goes, at any rate--do not know their whereabouts. It is a sad story,
+sir."
+
+The would-be tenant was apparently unmoved by the story's sadness.
+
+"What kind of house is it?" he inquired.
+
+"Old-fashioned, roomy, with oaken rafters, and a Jacobean grate in the
+dining-room. Five bedrooms. Fine garden, with its own well, fed by a
+spring. The kind of seventeenth-century dwelling that would fetch a high
+rent nowadays if near a town. As it is, I'd be glad to take sixty pounds
+a year for it, or submit an offer."
+
+"Furnished?"
+
+"Yes, sir, and some decent stuff in it, too. I'm surprised Messrs.
+Holloway & Dobb don't sell that, anyhow; but I believe they have a sort
+of order from Mrs. Garth that the property is to be sold as it stands,
+and not broken up piece-meal."
+
+"Why did you describe it as the house 'round the corner?"
+
+Mr. Walker smiled.
+
+"That was for my son's benefit, sir," he explained. "The Elmdale
+cottages are clustered together on the roadside. The Grange stands above
+them, at one end, and a few yards up a road leading to the moor. It
+commands a fine view, too," he added regretfully.
+
+"I'll take it," said the stranger.
+
+Walker, junior, looked jubilant, but his father's years had weakened
+confidence in mankind. Many a good let was lost ere the agreement was
+signed and this one was beset by special difficulties.
+
+"If you give me your name and address, I'll consult Messrs. Holloway &
+Dobb----" he began, and was probably more astonished than he would care
+to confess by the would-be tenant's emphatic interruption--
+
+"Is this property to let, or is it not?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Haven't I said so?"
+
+"Very well! I offer you a quarter's rent, payable to you or your son
+when I have looked at the place. As a matter of form, I would like one
+of you to accompany me to Elmdale at once, because I must inquire into
+the fishing. I suppose you can hire a conveyance of sorts to take us
+there? Of course, in any event, I shall pay your fee for the journey. My
+name is Robert Armathwaite. I am a stranger in this part of Yorkshire,
+but if you, or Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, care to call at the local bank,
+say, in three days' time, you will be satisfied as to my financial
+standing. I'll sign an agreement for a yearly tenancy, terminable
+thereafter by three months' written notice, when I pay the first
+installment of the rent. As the place is furnished, you will probably
+stipulate for payment in advance throughout. I fancy you can draw up
+such an agreement in half an hour, and, if there is an inventory, it
+should be checked and initialed when we visit the house. Does that
+arrangement suit you?"
+
+The Walkers were prosperous and pompous, but they knew when to sink
+their pomposity.
+
+"Yes, sir, it _can_ be done," agreed the elder man.
+
+"Thank you. Which is the leading bank here?"
+
+Walker, senior, indicated a building directly opposite.
+
+"I'll have a word with the manager," said Mr. Armathwaite. "If I'm here
+in half an hour, will you have a carriage waiting?"
+
+"A dog-cart, sir. My own. My son will attend to you."
+
+"Excellent. Evidently, your firm understands business."
+
+And Mr. Armathwaite went out.
+
+The Walkers watched as he crossed the road, and entered the bank. Their
+side of the street being higher than the other, they could see, above
+the frosted lower half of the bank's window, that he approached the
+counter, and was ushered into the manager's private room.
+
+"What d'ye make of it, dad?" inquired the "nut," forgetting his
+importance in the absorbing interest of the moment.
+
+"Dad" tickled his bald scalp with the handle of the pen.
+
+"Tell you what," he said solemnly. "Some houses have an attraction for
+queer folk. Whoever built the Grange where it is must have been daft.
+The people who lived there when I was a young man were a bit touched.
+Mr. Garth was mad, we know, an' Mrs. Wilkins was the silliest woman I
+ever met. Now comes this one."
+
+"_He_ looks all right."
+
+"You never can tell. At any rate, we'll take his money, and welcome. I
+asked sixty, but wouldn't have sneezed at forty. Neither would Holloway
+& Dobb; they've some costs to collect since the Wilkins' affair. Go and
+get the trap ready. And mind you, Jim, no hanky-panky."
+
+The youthful Walker winked.
+
+"You leave that to me," he said. "What about the fee--will he stand a
+guinea?"
+
+"You might try it, at any rate."
+
+At the appointed time, half-past eleven o'clock, Mr. Armathwaite came,
+carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. He cast an appreciative
+eye at a wiry cob, put the parcel in the back of the waiting dog-cart,
+and climbed to the seat beside the younger Walker, now attired _de
+rigueur_ for the country.
+
+"Will you kindly call at the railway station?" he said.
+
+The request was unexpected, but the driver nodded, and showed some skill
+in turning through the congeries of vehicles which crowded the street.
+
+At the station, the bag and other small articles were withdrawn from the
+parcels office, and deposited beside the package in brown paper. James
+Walker was mystified, but said nothing. Returning through the main
+street, he answered a few questions concerning local matters, and, once
+in the open country, grew voluble under the influence of a first-rate
+Havana proffered by his companion. Men of his type often estimate their
+fellows by a tobacco standard, and Walker privately appraised the cigar
+as "worth a bob, at the lowest figure." From that instant, Mr. Robert
+Armathwaite and Mr. James Walker took up their relative positions
+without demur on the part of either.
+
+Oddly enough, seeing that the newcomer had expressed his dislike for
+society, he listened with interest to bits of gossip concerning the
+owners of the various estates passed on the way. He was specially keen
+on names, even inquiring as to what families one titled landowner was
+connected with by marriage. Then, as to the fishing, could the Walkers
+arrange that for him?
+
+Forgetting his 'cuteness, Walker settled the point off-hand.
+
+"You had better deal with the matter yourself, sir," he said. "There'll
+be no difficulty. Nearly all the Elmdale farms are freeholds, most of
+'em with common rights on the moor. Why, when one of 'em changes hands,
+the buyer has the right to take over all the sheep footed on the
+seller's part of the moor. P'raps you don't know what 'footed' means.
+Sheep will always go back to the place where they were raised, and the
+habit is useful when they stray over an open moorland. So, you see, all
+you have to do is to get permission from two or three farmers, and you
+can fish for miles."
+
+He tried to talk of the Garths, particularly of the pretty daughter, but
+his hearer's attention wandered; obviously, information as to the ways
+and habits of the local yeomanry was more to Mr. Armathwaite's taste
+than a "nut's" gushing about a good-looking girl.
+
+Within an hour, after five miles of fair roadway and two of a
+switchback, mostly rising, Walker pointed with his whip to a thin line
+of red-tiled houses, here and there a thatched roof among them,
+nestling at the foot of a gill, or ravine, which pierced the side of a
+gaunt moorland. Above the hamlet, at the eastern end, rose an
+old-fashioned stone house, square, with a portico in the center, and a
+high-pitched roof of stone slabs.
+
+"There's Elmdale," he said, "and that's the Grange. Looks a god-forsaken
+hole, doesn't it, sir?"
+
+"If you pay heed to the real meanings of words, no place on earth merits
+that description," said Mr. Armathwaite.
+
+Walker was no whit abashed.
+
+"Well, no," he grinned.
+
+"I ought to have asked sooner, but have you brought any keys?"
+
+The agent instinct warned the other that his choice of an adjective had
+been unwise in more ways than one.
+
+"That's all right, sir," he said cheerfully. "The keys are kept in the
+village--at Mrs. Jackson's. She's a useful old body. If you want a
+housekeeper, she and her daughter would suit you down to the ground."
+
+Little more was said until the steaming pony was pulled up in front of a
+thatched cottage. Seen thus intimately, and in the blaze of a June sun,
+Elmdale suggested coziness. Each house, no matter what its size, had a
+garden in front and an orchard behind. Long, narrow pastures ran
+steeply up to the moor, and cattle and sheep were grazing in them. There
+were crops on the lower land. For all its remoteness, Elmdale faced
+south, and its earth was fertile.
+
+Armathwaite sat in the dog-cart while James Walker ran up the strip of
+flower-laden garden, and peered in through a low doorway. In later days,
+the singular fact was borne in on Armathwaite that had his companion
+adopted any other method of making known his business--had he, for
+instance, shouted to Mrs. Jackson or her daughter, Betty, and asked for
+the keys of the Grange--the whole course of his subsequent life would
+unquestionably have been altered. A loose stone under the foot of an
+emperor's horse may change the map of the world. In this instance, a
+remarkable, and, in some respects, unique series of events arose solely
+from the fact that Walker, junior, was of active habit, and alighted
+from the vehicle in preference to announcing his wishes for others to
+hear; because Betty Jackson, at that moment, was plucking gooseberries
+in the back garden, and knew nothing of what was going on until a
+country maid's belated wit failed completely to stem the tide of
+circumstance.
+
+Armathwaite caught scraps of a brief but seemingly heated argument going
+on inside the cottage. It was couched in the Yorkshire dialect, which
+he understood, to some extent, but could not speak. Then Walker, a
+gallant figure in straw hat, gray coat, red waistcoat with gilded
+buttons, breeches and gaiters and brown boots, strutted into sight. He
+was red-faced and laughing, and a bundle of keys jingled in one hand.
+
+"Mrs. Jackson's as bad as any of 'em," he cried, springing to his seat
+and taking the reins from a clip on the dash-board. "Made such a to-do
+about anyone looking over the house. Asked if you'd heard of the ghost,
+too. And, blow me, if she didn't pretend she'd mislaid the keys! We
+wouldn't have got 'em for a deuce of a time if I hadn't twigged 'em
+hanging on a nail, and grabbed 'em. Then she gave me my name for
+nothing, I can assure you."
+
+"Yet you recommended her for the post of housekeeper," said Armathwaite,
+smiling.
+
+"Yes, sir. She's a rare good cook, and tidy, too. Can't make out what's
+come over her. She was fair scared to death."
+
+Walker's statement as to Mrs. Jackson's behavior was by no means highly
+colored. Before he reached the dog-cart, the old woman had hurried into
+the back garden.
+
+"Betty!" she shrilled. "Betty, where are you?"
+
+A head in a poke-bonnet rose above a clump of tall gooseberry bushes,
+and a voice answered:
+
+"Yes, mother, what is it?"
+
+"Run, girl, run! What's to be done? Mr. Walker has brought a man to look
+at the house."
+
+"What house?"
+
+"The Grange, to be sure."
+
+"Oh, mother!"
+
+Betty ran quickly enough now. She was a strongly-built, apple-cheeked
+lass; but there was a glint of fear in her eyes, and the faces of both
+mother and daughter had gone gray under the tan of moor air and much
+work in the open.
+
+"Whatever can we do?" cried Mrs. Jackson, with the hopeless distress of
+a woman overwhelmed by some unforeseen and tragic occurrence. "That
+impudent young Walker came and snatched at the keys before I could stop
+him. And they've gone there, the pair of 'em! There they are
+now--halfway up the hill."
+
+All this, of course, was couched in "broad Yorkshire," which, however,
+need not enter into the record. The two gazed at the men in the
+dog-cart, who were partly visible above a yew hedge, since the by-road
+in which the Grange was situated turned up the hill by the gable of Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage.
+
+"Oh, mother!" said the girl, in awe-stricken accents, "why didn't you
+hide 'em?"
+
+"How was I to hide 'em? I was knocked all of a heap. Who'd have thought
+of anyone coming here to-day, of all days in the year?"
+
+"Who's that with him?" Betty almost sobbed.
+
+"The man who's going over the house, of course."
+
+"Oh, dear! If only I'd known! I'd have taken the keys and gone with
+them."
+
+"What good would that have done?"
+
+"I might have humbugged them into waiting a minute or two. I'd have
+thought of some excuse. But don't worry too much, mother. Maybe they'll
+give the least little look round, and come away again."
+
+"And maybe they won't," cried Mrs. Jackson angrily, for she was
+recovering from her fright, and her daughter's implied reproach was
+irritating. "I did my best, and it can't be helped now, no matter what
+happens. Run after them, Betty, and offer to help. You may manage
+something, even now."
+
+The girl needed no second bidding. She was through the cottage and out
+in the road in a jiffy. But she had lost a minute or more already, and
+the sturdy galloway was climbing a steep hill quickly. When she reached
+a garden gate to which the reins were tied, the front door of the Grange
+stood open, and the visitors were inside.
+
+"Oh, dear!" she breathed, in a heart-broken way. "Oh, dear! If only
+mother had called me sooner! Now, it's too late! And I promised that no
+one should know. Well, I must do my best. Just a bit of luck, and I may
+pull things straight yet!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SHOWING HOW EVEN A HOUSE MAY HAVE A WAY OF ITS OWN
+
+
+While Walker was fiddling with the lock, not being quite sure as to the
+right key, Armathwaite had eyed the southern landscape. Elmdale was six
+hundred feet above sea level, and the Grange stood fully a hundred feet
+higher than the village, so a far-flung panorama of tillage, pasture,
+and woodland provided a delightful picture on that glorious June day. To
+the north, he knew, stretched miles of wild moor, and the heather began
+where the spacious garden ended. A glance at the map in the Walkers'
+office had shown that this bleak waste was crossed by mere tracks,
+marked in the dotted lines which motorists abhor. Indeed, the very road
+leading to the house was not macadamized beyond the gate; two years of
+disuse had converted even the stone-covered portion into a sort of
+meadow, because grass, the sulkiest of vegetables in a well-tended lawn,
+will grow luxuriantly on a granite wall if left alone.
+
+Truly, Elmdale seemed to be at the end of the world--the world of
+Yorkshire, at any rate--and Robert Armathwaite found its aspect
+pleasing. A lock clicked; he turned, and entered a domain he was now
+fully resolved to make his own.
+
+"Well, I'm blest!" said Walker, speaking in a surprised way; "anyone 'ud
+think the place hadn't been empty an hour, let alone two years, not
+countin' Mrs. Wilkins's couple of nights. I wonder who left these
+clothes, and hats, and things!"
+
+He had good reason for a certain stare of bewilderment.
+
+The door, which was stoutly built, with a pane of sheet glass in the
+upper half, opened straight into a spacious, oak-paneled hall. Left and
+right were a dining-room and a drawing-room, each containing two
+windows. Behind the dining-room a wide staircase gave access to the
+upper floors, and a flood of rich and variously-tinted light from a long
+arched window glowed on the dark panels below, and glistened on the
+polished mahogany case of a grandfather's clock which faced the foot of
+the stairs. The wall opposite the entrance was pierced by a half-open
+door, through which could be seen laden bookshelves reaching up eight
+feet or more. Another door, beyond the stairway, showed the only
+possible means of approach to the kitchen and domestic offices.
+
+There were no pictures in the hall, but some antique plates and dishes
+of blue china were ranged on a shelf above the wainscot, and a narrow
+table and four straight-backed chairs, all of oak, were in tasteful
+keeping with the surroundings. On each side of the dining-room door were
+double rows of hooks, and on these hung the garments which had caught
+the agent's eye.
+
+A bowler hat, a frayed panama, a cap, a couple of overcoats, even a
+lady's hat and mackintosh, lent an air of occupancy to the house, which
+was not diminished by the presence of several sticks and umbrellas in a
+couple of Chinese porcelain stands. Walker took down the panama. It was
+dust-laden, and the inner band of leather had a clammy feeling. He
+replaced it hastily.
+
+"That's the Professor's," he said, trying to speak unconcernedly. "I
+remember seeing him in it, many a time."
+
+Armathwaite noticed the action, and was aware of a peculiar _timbre_ in
+Walker's voice.
+
+"Now, suppose we lay that ghost, and have done with it," he said
+quietly. "Where did my worthy and retrospective landlord hang himself?"
+
+"There," said Walker, indicating a solitary hook screwed through the
+china shelf near the clock. "That bronze thing," pointing to a Burmese
+gong lying on the floor, "used to hang there. He took it down, tied the
+rope to the hook, and kicked a chair away.... If you come here," and he
+advanced a few paces, "you'll see why a ghost appears."
+
+"Mr. Walker," bleated someone timidly.
+
+Mr. Walker unquestionably jumped, and quite as unquestionably swore,
+even when he recognized Betty Jackson, standing in the porch.
+
+"Well, what is it?" he cried gruffly, hoping his companion has missed
+that display of nerves.
+
+"Please, sir, mother thought--" began the girl; but the startled "nut"
+was annoyed, and showed it.
+
+"I don't care what your mother thinks," he shouted. "Refusing me the
+keys, indeed! What next? I've a good mind to report her to Messrs.
+Holloway & Dobb."
+
+"But, sir, she only wanted to make the house a bit more tidy. It's dusty
+and stuffy. If you gentlemen would be kind enough to wait in the garden
+five minutes, I'd open up the rooms, and raise a window here and there."
+
+Betty, tearful and repentant, had entered the hall in her eagerness to
+serve. Walker weakened; he had a soft spot in his heart for girls.
+
+"No matter now," he said. "We shan't be here long. This gentleman is
+just going to look round and see if the place suits him."
+
+"The best bedroom is all upside down," she persisted. "If you'd give me
+three minutes----"
+
+"Run away and play, and don't bother us," he answered off-handedly. "As
+I was about to say, Mr. Armathwaite, someone in the old days put stained
+glass in that window on the landing. You'll notice it shows a knight in
+black armor--Edward, the Black Prince, it's believed to be--and, when
+the sun sets in the nor' west, it casts a strong shadow on the paneling
+beside the clock. Of course, it can be seen from the porch, and it
+accounts for this silly story about the ghost----"
+
+"Oh!" screamed the girl. "Why talk of such horrid things? There's no
+ghost!"
+
+Her cry was so unexpectedly shrill that Walker yielded to an anger
+almost as loud-voiced.
+
+"Confound you!" he stormed at her; "take yourself off! One more word
+from you, and your mother loses her job."
+
+Armathwaite looked into the girl's troubled face and saw there a fear, a
+foreboding, which were very real, if not to be accounted for readily.
+
+"Kindly leave us," he said. "If I want Mrs. Jackson, or you, I'll call
+at the cottage."
+
+There was an air of authority about Mr. Armathwaite that disconcerted
+Betty more than Walker's bluster. She went out and closed the front
+door. The agent ran and opened it again. The girl was standing on the
+path, clear of the porch, and gazing wistfully at the house.
+
+"Will you mind your own business?" he grumbled. "The deuce take it,
+what's come to you to-day? You and your mother seem half crazy."
+
+"We don't like folk to see the place at its worst," she said, rather
+defiantly.
+
+"You're doing your best to turn Mr. Armathwaite against it, _I_ should
+think," was the angry comment. "Now, don't touch this door again, and
+clear out, d'ye hear?"
+
+Betty flushed. She was distressed, but dales' blood boils quickly when
+subjected to the fire of contumely.
+
+"I haven't asked such a favor," she said. "And you might keep a civil
+tongue in your head."
+
+Walker sniffed his annoyance. But why bandy words with this aggressive
+young woman? He swung on his heel.
+
+"Sorry you should have met with such a queer reception, Mr.
+Armathwaite," he said. "I can't account for it. I really can't. Perhaps
+Mrs. Jackson feels hurt that I didn't let her know you were coming,
+but----"
+
+"Never mind Mrs. Jackson or her daughter," said Armathwaite placidly.
+"I'll soon settle matters with them. Now, you have an inventory, I
+believe? Suppose we start here."
+
+"Then you've decided to take the house, sir?"
+
+"Yes, two hours ago, in Nuttonby."
+
+"I wish all our clients were like you," laughed Walker. "You know what
+you want and see that you get it.... Well, sir, as it happens, the
+inventory begins with the hall. I'll read, and you might note the items,
+stopping me if there's any doubt."
+
+The agent rattled through his task, but was pulled up several times in
+dining-room and drawing-room, when a picture or two, some Sheffield
+plate, and various bits of china were missing. Black doubt seized the
+sharp Walker when this had happened for the fourth time. In all, there
+were seven disappearances, and, in each instance, the article was old
+and fairly valuable. Country villages, he reflected, were ransacked
+nowadays by collectors of curios. When opportunity served, he and Mrs.
+Jackson would have some earnest words.
+
+But surprise and relief came in the discovery of the seven; they were
+piled, with a number of books, on a table in the library.
+
+"I suppose some kind of spring cleaning is going on," he said
+sheepishly. "Now the cat is out of the bag. Why the deuce didn't Betty
+say so, and have done with it!"
+
+"I imagine she was trying to tell us something of the sort," smiled the
+other unconcernedly. "Surely we have not got to check the titles of all
+these books?"
+
+"No, sir. They're lumped together--about eight hundred volumes."
+
+Armathwaite surveyed the shelves with the eye of a reader.
+
+"That must be nearly right," he said, after a little pause. "I must not
+get mine mixed with my predecessor's. I've brought nearly two hundred
+myself."
+
+Walker thought of the brown paper parcel, which seemed to have a certain
+solidity, but said nothing. In the first place, if eight hundred books
+occupied so much space, a quarter of that number would fit in no
+ordinary sheet of brown paper. Secondly, Mr. Armathwaite's manner did
+not invite unnecessary questions. The kitchen and scullery were soon
+dealt with. There was coal in a cellar, and a supply of wood, and a
+number of lamps drew attention to some tins of oil.
+
+"How much for this lot?" inquired the would-be tenant.
+
+"Nothing," said Walker, in a sudden fit of generosity. "These stores
+were left by Mrs. Wilkins, and lost sight of during the row. My, what a
+bother she raised!"
+
+"Yet there is no ghost; we have Betty's word for it. Now--the bedrooms."
+
+The "best" bedroom--that in the south-east angle--was certainly not in
+disorder. Indeed, it looked fresher and cleaner than any of the others;
+the bed was spotless; even the window-sill had been dusted recently.
+
+"Of course," said the agent, "those two silly women have been tidying
+things up a bit for the season. I'm getting the hang of things by
+degrees. They're afraid I might think it should have been done sooner."
+
+"Probably," agreed Armathwaite, who, however, held a somewhat different
+view. The girl was not afraid of Mr. James Walker. Of whom, then, or of
+what? If the inquiry interested him he would find out.
+
+The remaining bedrooms held at least one year's dust.
+
+A box-room, lumber-room, and servant's bedroom occupied the second
+floor. In the ceiling of a small lobby there was a trap-door.
+
+"That leads to a space beneath the roof," said Walker. "By the way,
+there ought to be a ladder. It's gone."
+
+Being, as has been seen, of active habit, he brought a chair from the
+bedroom, stood on it, pushed up the flap, and peered into the
+semi-obscurity of a triangular, rafter-lined attic, lighted only by a
+tiny square of glass cemented into one of the flat stone slabs of the
+roof.
+
+"Oh, here it is," he announced. "Shall I pull it out?"
+
+"No, thanks," said Armathwaite. "I don't suppose I shall mount so high
+again during my tenancy."
+
+The younger man closed the trap, and, as it had been unfastened
+previously, shot a bolt into its socket.
+
+"Well, that ends it," he said, brushing some grime off his hands. "If
+you care to stroll through the garden you'll find plenty of fruit coming
+on. This should be a good year for apples and plums, I'm told. It's too
+late to raise any potatoes or vegetables, but the village will supply
+plenty of table stuff, and cheap, too."
+
+"Let me see," mused Armathwaite aloud. "Fifteen pounds rent,
+and, say, two guineas for your fee, and another guinea for the
+conveyance--eighteen pounds three shillings in all. Let us adjourn to
+the library, and I'll pay you, sign the agreement, and initial the
+inventory. Then I need not detain you any longer, Mr. Walker."
+
+The agent looked blank, as well he might. He was flustered, too, by the
+terms offered for his valuable services.
+
+"You don't mean that you're going to stay here straightaway, sir?" he
+cried.
+
+"Yes. I came prepared for immediate occupation. That is why I brought my
+bag, and some groceries."
+
+"Groceries!"
+
+Walker was so astonished that he could only repeat the word.
+
+"That parcel, you know. I'm an old campaigner--that is, I have much
+experience of camping out, under far less pleasant conditions than in a
+delightful house in a Yorkshire village. I shall be quite happy here."
+
+"But there's a kind of an inn not far off; you'll come and have a snack
+there with me, sir?" was all that Walker could find to say at the
+moment.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, but I may not stir out again to-day. Shall we
+go down?"
+
+They descended the stairs, which creaked loudly under their feet. Walker
+was puzzled to understand a cool customer of the Armathwaite type. He
+had never heard of a tenancy being entered into with such promptitude,
+yet there was no point in the stranger's behavior which he could fix on
+as definitely eccentric, or even unusual. The man evidently knew his own
+mind, and, if he paid up, the philosophy of Walker, senior, fitted the
+case admirably.
+
+Still it was a slightly dazed Son who pocketed fifteen pounds in notes
+and three guineas in coin, and gave receipts for these sums, and
+exchanged copies of an agreement, and handed over the keys.
+
+"Take another cigar," said the new tenant, bidding him good-bye at the
+front door, when bag and parcel had been brought in and dumped on the
+hall table. "Oh, there is one other small matter. I left three boxes at
+Nuttonby Station. Here is the voucher. Can you get some carter or farmer
+to bring them here, to-day or to-morrow? I'll pay him well for his
+trouble. They're rather heavy--books, mostly."
+
+Conscious of a subdued feeling which he was wholly unable to explain,
+Walker took the cigar and the printed slip, raised his hat--an action
+which vexed him when he recalled it subsequently--and strolled down to
+the gate and the waiting dog-cart. Rattling the reins to let the pony
+know that he would stand no nonsense, he turned the corner on one wheel,
+and gave not the slightest heed to Betty Jackson's frantic efforts to
+attract his attention. Without slackening pace at the Fox and Hounds
+Inn, he whisked into the Nuttonby road, but pulled up on the crest of
+the first hill.
+
+Looking back at Elmdale, lying snug and content in the blazing sunshine
+of early afternoon, he gazed at the Grange during a full minute. The
+front door was closed. So far as he could make out, no tall figure was
+sauntering in garden or orchard. Then he felt in his breeches pocket, to
+make sure, by the touch of notes and gold, that he was not dreaming.
+
+"Well, I'm jiggered, if this isn't a rum go!" he muttered, and chirruped
+the pony into a trot again.
+
+In the meantime, Mr. Robert Armathwaite had watched his hurried
+departure, in the first instance from the porch and subsequently from
+one of the windows in the dining-room.
+
+"Perhaps I've made a mistake," he communed, with an amused smile, when
+he noted the momentary stopping of the dog-cart outside the village.
+"I've puzzled that young sprig, and I might have avoided that. Not that
+it matters a great deal. His father will inquire at the bank about my
+financial standing, and the pair of them will put me down as a
+well-to-do lunatic. Maybe they will prove right. Who can tell? At any
+rate, I've not felt so content with my lot since I left India. Now for
+some bread and cheese, and a thorough survey of my domain."
+
+He unpacked the brown paper parcel on the kitchen table, and thereby
+proved himself at least well skilled as a caterer. Bacon, flour, bread,
+tea, coffee, sugar--all manner of simple domestic stores were there. He
+had, in fact, gone into a grocer's shop in Nuttonby, produced a written
+list, and asked that the articles named therein should be of the best
+quality and got ready at once.
+
+While munching a frugal meal he bethought himself of the water supply.
+Unlocking the back door, he found the well, and drew a bucket of water,
+which was excellent in quality, and by no means suffering from disuse;
+indeed, he learnt later that the Jacksons and other cottagers took their
+supply from that source.
+
+After a stroll round the garden and orchard--noting the laden gooseberry
+and currant bushes in the one, and several varieties of apples, pears,
+plums, and cherries in the other--he went back to the house. Going
+upstairs, he took possession of the "best" room, and distributed the
+contents of the bag among various drawers and on a dressing-table. A
+large wardrobe contained some feminine garments, old, but of good
+quality, and he left them undisturbed. Examining the bed, he found the
+sheets scrupulously clean and well-aired. To all seeming, they had been
+put there that very day, and he believed that the Jackson family meant
+to accommodate some friend in the Grange for the night, which reasonable
+surmise explained Betty Jackson's anxiety lest any hint of the project
+should reach the agent's ears.
+
+"It's too bad if I've contrived to upset their plans," he mused.
+"They're welcome to any other room, for all that I care, and I'll tell
+them so if I come across either of them this evening."
+
+Nevertheless, meaning to be lord of his own realm, he locked the doors,
+both back and front, when he went for a ramble over the moors. He was
+willing to fall in with any hospitable arrangement the caretakers might
+have in view, but they must consult him, and he refused to have either
+of them prowling about the house in his absence.
+
+He followed the moorland road for some miles, meeting no one, and seeing
+no living creature save hundreds of black-faced sheep. Not even a grouse
+scurried across the heather, for June is the nesting season, and the
+parent birds lie close. Noting the watershed, he found the source of the
+beck which brawled through Elmdale, and tracked it back to the village.
+It was alive with trout and grayling, and his fingers itched for a rod.
+He regretted now that he had not obtained the names of some of the
+riparian landowners from Walker, but realized that the village inn would
+soon yield all the information he needed, and probably contain some of
+the farmers in person that evening.
+
+He reached his new abode, however, somewhat later than he had intended,
+approaching it from the east, which afforded not only a new point of
+view, but enabled him to detect Mrs. Jackson and Betty in a series of
+manoeuvres which were distinctly mysterious when taken into account with
+their earlier attitude.
+
+Obviously, when he emerged from the depths of the tree-lined gill, and
+first caught sight of the house, mother and daughter had just quitted
+the front door, presumably after knocking, and failing to obtain an
+answer. Betty ran out into the road, and gazed up towards the moor.
+Apparently satisfied by her scrutiny of that bare upland she hurried to
+the rear of the premises, and reappeared, carrying a gardener's ladder,
+which she placed against the wall. Giving a rapid glance in the
+direction of the village, she mounted the ladder. It was rather short,
+and she was in some danger of falling, but, by clinging to a creeper,
+she managed to reach a sufficient height that she could peer into the
+bedroom in which Armathwaite had spread his belongings.
+
+She descended again swiftly, took away the ladder, and returned to her
+mother. Both women eyed the upper windows anxiously, and, as the outcome
+of some talk, Betty went to the gate a second time, and looked along the
+bold curve of the moorland road. She shook her head. Her mother joined
+her, and the two went to their cottage.
+
+Armathwaite smiled, and resolved to keep his knowledge of the Jacksons'
+behavior to himself. He did not wish to quarrel with the women, who
+would be useful in many ways. In a day or two, when he had won their
+confidence, they would doubtless explain their queer proceedings; most
+likely, the explanation would prove so simple that it would never occur
+to a suspicious mind.
+
+Having waited to fill his pipe, he entered the village, and walked up
+the narrow path to Mrs. Jackson's abode. He was met at the door by
+Betty. She seemed to be rather alarmed by the visit, yet pleased to see
+him.
+
+"Can we do anything for you, sir?" she said. "Mother and I went to the
+house a while ago, but you were out."
+
+In the oblique Yorkshire way she had partly told the reason of the
+visit. Mrs. Jackson, too, came and stood near her daughter, and it was
+curious to note the underlook of alarm, of poignant anxiety, in both
+faces.
+
+"I wish to make your acquaintance, and to inquire about milk, butter,
+and eggs," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Walker suggested that you might be
+willing to attend to household matters, and that would take a burden off
+my mind."
+
+"We'll be pleased to do it, and reasonable, too, sir," said Mrs. Jackson
+promptly.
+
+"Very well. Come and see me in the morning. Meanwhile, can you arrange
+for a quart of milk, a pound of butter, and a few eggs to be sent in
+immediately?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," said both together, and the expression of relief in the
+one face was mirrored in the other.
+
+"You'll be wanting something cooked now, sir?" went on the older woman,
+with a new cheerfulness of tone, and Armathwaite would have been a far
+less capable student of human nature than he was had he failed to see
+that a much desired entry to the house was now regarded as an assured
+thing. Suddenly he made up his mind to solve the enigma, whatever it
+might be, since the theory of a spare bed being in request did not seem
+to fit the case.
+
+"No," he said carelessly, treating the proposal as of slight import, one
+way or the other. "I wish to be alone this evening. But you can come in
+early to-morrow. Isn't there a spare key?"
+
+"Yes, sir," broke in the girl, for her mother was utterly nonplussed
+again. "It's on the bunch with the others."
+
+He produced the keys from his pocket, and saw that there were two alike.
+
+"One of these?" he inquired, meeting the girl's eyes in a steady glance.
+Then he was sure of his ground. She was so excited that she could hardly
+answer. He gave her the key, ascertained that she would bring the milk
+and the rest in a few minutes, and left the two women staring after him.
+
+Betty was as good as her word. She made no attempt to prolong her stay,
+but deposited her purchases on the hall-table, and promised that she or
+her mother would come about seven in the morning.
+
+"Will you need to be called, sir?" she inquired, as an afterthought.
+
+"Well, yes. I'm a sound sleeper," he assured her gravely.
+
+The statement was true, but it required qualification. A man who had
+slept many a night under conditions that demanded instant wakefulness if
+any sinister sound threatened his very existence, did not rank in the
+class of sound sleepers known to quiet Elmdale.
+
+Thereafter he cooked a meal of eggs and bacon, tea and toast, smoked,
+rambled in the garden, read, thought a good deal, and went to bed.
+
+The light in his room was extinguished soon after ten o'clock. About
+half-past eleven, little more than twelve hours from the time he had
+first heard of "the house 'round the corner," he was aroused by a loud
+crash in the hall. He was up in an instant, laughing at the success of a
+booby trap compacted of the Burmese gong, some thread, and a piece of
+wood set as a trigger. His feet were not on the floor before the front
+door banged, and, hurrying to the window, he saw Betty Jackson flying
+down the path for dear life. He could not be mistaken. In that northern
+latitude a midsummer night is never wholly dark. He not only recognized
+the girl, but could note her heaving shoulders as she sobbed
+hysterically in her flight.
+
+"I'm sorry if you're badly scared, my country maid, but you asked for
+it," he said aloud. "Now I think I'll be left to undisturbed slumber
+till seven o'clock."
+
+Therein he erred. He had not quitted the window, being held by the
+solemn beauty of the gray landscape, ere a heavy thud, and then another,
+and yet a third, reached his ears. He might not have localized the
+first, but its successors came unmistakably from the attic. After a few
+seconds, the three knocks were repeated, and now he adjudged them to the
+precise bounds of the trap-door.
+
+Slipping an automatic pistol into the pocket of his pyjama suit--merely
+as a precaution against the unforeseen, though he was a man devoid of
+fear, he took an electric torch from a drawer, but knew better than to
+bring it into use until its glare would disconcert others--not himself.
+He thrust his bare feet into slippers, unlocked the bedroom door, and
+passed out on to the landing.
+
+"Now to unveil Isis!" he thought, as he felt for the first step of the
+upward stairway. It needed one of steel nerve and fine courage to creep
+about a strange house in the dark--a house where ill deeds had been
+done, and in which their memories lurked--but Robert Armathwaite had
+gone through experiences which reduced the present adventure to the
+proportions of a somewhat startling prank, closely akin to the success
+of the stratagem which had routed Betty Jackson.
+
+And, as he mounted the stairs, keeping close to the wall, and thus
+preventing the old boards from creaking, again came those ominous
+knocks, louder, more insistent; but whether threatening or merely
+clamorous he could not decide--yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A MIDNIGHT SEANCE
+
+
+Armathwaite had a foot on the upper landing when a stifled sob reached
+his ears, and a determined, almost angry, stamping or hammering shook
+the trap-door. One element, then, of the mystery attached to this
+reputedly ghost-ridden house was about to be dispelled. When James
+Walker shot the bolt which rendered the door as unyielding as the stout
+rafters which incased it, he had unwittingly imprisoned someone in the
+attic loft; and the someone, tiring of imprisonment, was making loud
+demand for release. Moreover, Betty Jackson was in the secret. She knew
+of the intruder's presence, but had not learnt the particular mode of
+concealment adopted--hence her renewed efforts to gain admission, her
+use of the ladder, and her somewhat daring visit during the dead hours
+of the night.
+
+Now, Armathwaite scouted the notion of a couple of village women like
+Mrs. Jackson and her daughter being in league with midnight robbers, or
+worse. Even if some thievery was in prospect, they could not possibly
+have arranged that certain unknown miscreants should hide beneath the
+roof, since the arrival of Walker with an unexpected tenant was
+evidently the last thing they had dreamed of.
+
+Therefore, smiling at the humor of the incident, he had to simulate a
+sternness he was far from feeling when he cried:
+
+"Stop making that noise! Who are you, and how did you come to get
+yourself locked in in this way?"
+
+"Please let me out!" came the muffled reply. "I'll explain everything--I
+will, indeed!"
+
+Thereupon, Armathwaite was more surprised than ever. The appeal, though
+tearful and husky, was precisely opposite in character to that which he
+anticipated. He looked for gruff entreaty in the accents of the country
+of broad acres. What he actually heard was a cultured voice, a voice
+with a singularly soft and musical enunciation, and its note was of
+complaint rather than petition.
+
+"All right!" he cried, hardly suppressing a laugh. "I'll bring a chair
+and draw the bolt. I suppose you can lower the ladder yourself?"
+
+"Of course I can--I drew it up!"
+
+Again, the answer did not fit in with the conditions. But Armathwaite
+secured the same chair which Walker had used, pressed the button of the
+electric torch, and, having forced the bolt out of its socket, raised
+the door a few inches.
+
+"Catch hold!" he said. "I'll show you a light."
+
+The door was lifted, and he glimpsed a beardless face peering from the
+inner void. He sprang to the floor, put the chair on one side, and
+awaited developments. Soon the ladder appeared, and was adjusted. Then
+came two neat but strong brown brogues, with slim-ankled black stockings
+to match, and the turned-up ends of a pair of gray, flannel trousers.
+The owner of these articles of attire sat for an instant on the edge of
+the trap, as though reluctant to descend further, and Armathwaite
+noticed, to his very great bewilderment, that the black stockings were
+of silk.
+
+"Will you kindly promise not to grab my legs as I come down?" said the
+voice.
+
+"I have not the slightest desire to grab your legs, or your neck, for
+that matter, if you behave yourself," said Armathwaite.
+
+"You don't understand, of course," came the curiously dignified protest;
+"but I am not misbehaving myself, and have no intention of so doing.
+This ridiculous thing would not have happened if that silly young fop
+had not fastened the trap-door. I can't imagine why he did it. It was no
+business of his, at any rate. And may I ask who _you_ are?"
+
+"I'll answer all polite inquiries, and, it may be, put a few on my own
+account, when you favor me with a closer view," said Armathwaite, not
+without a tinge of sarcasm in his politeness.
+
+"Oh, this is too stupid for words!" was the petulant reply, and the
+speaker swung into sight. The ladder was tilted steeply, and the steps
+were narrow. Apparently, the young gentleman in a gray flannel suit who
+materialized in this manner preferred to gaze at his rescuer rather than
+adopt the safer method of descent which involved a momentary turning of
+his back. Possibly, too, he was more nervous than his remarks betokened,
+for he was yet some distance from the floor when the lower-most foot
+slipped, and he fell. The toe of the other foot caught in a rung, and he
+was thrown violently into Armathwaite's arms, who, to save him from
+pitching headlong downstairs, had to clutch him with some force,
+whereupon the torch dropped, and the two were enfolded by a pall of
+darkness that seemed to have an actual quality of tangibleness.
+
+"Oh!" shrieked the youth, now thoroughly frightened, "please don't hurt
+me! I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't really!"
+
+Armathwaite's senses were steeped in the very essence of wonderment; he
+knew now that he was clasping a woman to his breast, hugging her most
+energetically, too, and the knowledge was at once disconcerting and
+irritating. But he had acquired the faculty long ago of remaining
+impassive in circumstances calling for rigid self-control, so he merely
+said, with curt reassurance:
+
+"If you'll not make such a row, and stand still, I'll find that
+confounded torch and shed a light on the situation."
+
+He stooped, and groped on the floor, being aware that the girl was
+panting with ill-repressed alarm the while. Luckily, his fingers soon
+closed on the nickel cylinder, and the almost overwhelming gloom was
+banished.
+
+"Do you think you can manage to walk downstairs without stumbling, or
+shall I hold your arm?" he inquired, and the somewhat taunting question,
+no less than his obvious disregard of his companion's terror, supplied a
+needed tonic.
+
+"The ladder was steep and slippery," she said tremulously. "The stairs
+offer no difficulty, so I can dispense with your assistance, thanks."
+
+Certainly this young person's way of expressing herself differed in
+every essential from her distinctly agitated state. She was not yet
+aware of the innate chivalry of the man in refraining from thrusting the
+torch close to her face and staring at her, but already her panic was
+subsiding, and she turned and hurried away so quickly that Armathwaite
+thought she meant to escape.
+
+"Just one moment!" he said, though not making the least effort to detain
+her otherwise. "Are there any more of you up here?"
+
+His sheer unconcern could not fail to lessen her agitation still
+further, and she halted on the next landing.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried. Despite her qualms, she still maintained
+a curious attitude of defiance, as if she, and not the house's lawful
+tenant, had most cause to feel aggrieved.
+
+"Exactly what I said. Were you alone in that attic?"
+
+"Of course I was. What a question!"
+
+"A natural one, from my point of view. I was sound asleep, when your
+ally, Betty Jackson, kicked up a din in the hall, and you began pounding
+on the trap-door."
+
+"Poor Betty! Is she here? Betty! Betty!"
+
+Leaning over the banisters, she peered into the blackness beneath. There
+was a glimmer of spectral light here, for a late-rising moon was adding
+to the silvery brightness of a perfect night, and some of its radiance
+was piercing the stained glass. Armathwaite noted her action with
+increasing bewilderment.
+
+"Betty fled as though she were pursued by seven devils," he said, when
+no other answer came to her cry. "I guessed at some mischief being
+afoot, so planned a surprise for anyone crossing the hall without my
+knowledge. No matter what her earlier opinions, Betty believes in that
+ghost now."
+
+"Ghost! What ghost? There is no ghost here. Do you think to scare me
+with a bogey, like a naughty child?"
+
+They were descending the broad stairs of the lower flight together, and
+Armathwaite had stolen one glance at the lissom young figure. He was
+minded to smile at a cunningly-hidden safety pin which kept a
+broad-brimmed fisherman's hat of heather mixture cloth in position so
+that the girl's hair was concealed. The coat hung rather loosely on
+slender shoulders, but the disguise was fairly effective in other
+respects, and the masquerader moved with an easy grace that betokened a
+good walker.
+
+"I have not occupied the house many hours, but I have come to the
+conclusion that it harbors certain strange fantasies," he said, taking
+the lead, and stopping to break a thread stretched across the foot of
+the stairs. "We'll find a lamp and matches in the dining-room," he
+added. "Suppose we go there and discuss matters?"
+
+"Isn't it rather late? Whatever time is it?" was the hesitating comment.
+
+"And aren't you rather hungry?" he replied, ignoring both questions.
+
+"I'm simply ravenous. I haven't eaten a morsel since six o'clock this
+morning."
+
+"I can offer you bread and butter and milk. Shall I boil you some eggs?"
+
+"If you mention food again, I shall drop. Please, what time is it?"
+
+"Nearly midnight."
+
+"Oh, I must be going! I must, really. The Jacksons will find me
+something to eat."
+
+"You're going into that room, and, unless I have your promise to remain
+there, you'll accompany me to the kitchen. Which is it to be--a
+comfortable chair, with a lamp, or a compulsory prowl through kitchen
+and larder?"
+
+"I'll sit down, please," came the slow admission. "I'm very tired, and
+rather done up. I walked miles and miles this morning, and the long
+hours up there in the dark were horrid."
+
+Without another word Armathwaite threw open the dining-room door, and
+lighted the lamp which he had left on the table. The girl sank wearily
+into an arm-chair; her action was a tacit acceptance of his terms.
+Somehow, he was convinced that she would not take advantage of his
+absence and slip out through the front door, which Betty Jackson had
+assuredly not waited to lock.
+
+Among the kitchen utensils he had found a small oil-stove in working
+order. In a surprisingly short time, therefore, he was back in the
+dining-room with a laden tray.
+
+"Do you like your eggs soft-boiled, medium, or hard?" he inquired,
+treating an extraordinary episode with a nonchalance which betokened
+either a temperament wholly devoid of emotion or a career crowded with
+uncommon experiences.
+
+"Need I eat eggs at all?" said the girl. "I'm sure, Mrs. Jackson----"
+
+"Do you want to rouse the village?"
+
+"No; anything but that."
+
+"Then I must point out that the one cottage in Elmdale whose inmates
+will be deaf and dumb at this moment is Mrs. Jackson's. Both mother and
+daughter are quaking because of the possible consequences of an attempt
+to enter this house at an hour which no person could choose for a
+legitimate purpose. Eat and drink, therefore. We'll deal with the
+Jacksons subsequently. No, don't begin by a long draught of milk. It is
+tempting, but harmful if taken in that way. Try some bread and butter.
+Now, two eggs. Oh, dash it! I've forgotten an egg-spoon, and I don't
+know where such things are kept. I'll go and hunt for them."
+
+"Don't trouble. Lend me that electric lamp--how useful it is!--and I'll
+bring one in a minute."
+
+By this time Armathwaite had seen that his captive was a remarkably
+pretty girl. Male attire supplies the severest test of feminine beauty,
+since form and feature are deprived of adventitious aids; but a small,
+oval face, two pouting lips, a finely-modeled nose, brilliant brown
+eyes, swept by long curved lashes, and a smooth forehead, rising above
+arched and well-marked eyebrows, needed no art of milliner or dressmaker
+to enhance their charms. She was fairly tall, too--though dwarfed by
+Armathwaite's six feet and an inch of height in his slippered feet--and
+admirably proportioned, if slender and lithe. Evidently, she thought he
+had not penetrated her disguise, and was momentarily becoming more
+self-possessed. Again, she had some explanation of her presence in the
+house which could not fail of acceptance, and did not scruple,
+therefore, to display a close acquaintance with its arrangements denied
+to one who admittedly had taken up his abode there only that day.
+
+The man listened to her quick, confident steps going to the kitchen,
+heard the rattle of a drawer in an antique dresser which stood there,
+and, with an emphatic gesture, seemed to appeal to the gods ere he bent
+over the stove to see if the water was yet a-boil.
+
+The girl might be hungry, but feminine curiosity proved stronger than
+the urgent claims of an empty stomach. She went into the larder, and
+undoubtedly eyed the new tenant's stores. She implied as much when she
+re-entered the dining-room.
+
+"Boiled eggs require pepper and salt," she explained. "You've got so
+many little paper bags that I didn't dare rummage among them, so I've
+secured a cruet which was left here when my--when the people who used to
+live here went away. The salt may be a bit damp, but the pepper should
+be all right."
+
+Without more ado she tackled a slice of bread, breaking it into small
+pieces, and buttering each piece separately before munching it.
+
+"Some wise person said in a newspaper the other day that one ought to
+give every mouthful of bread three hundred bites," she went on. "I
+wonder if he ever fasted eighteen hours before practicing his own
+precept. I'm afraid I wouldn't believe him if he said he did."
+
+"People who study their digestion generally die young," said Armathwaite
+drily.
+
+"Oh, I don't agree with you in that," she retorted. "My dad is great on
+food theories. He knows all about proteins and carbohydrates; he can
+tell you to a fourth decimal the caloric value of an egg; and _he's_ a
+phenomenally healthy person. By the way, how are those eggs coming on?"
+
+"Try this one. I think the water has been boiling three minutes!"
+
+Armathwaite spoke calmly enough, but a stoutly-built edifice of
+circumstantial evidence had just crumbled in ruins about his ears. He
+was persuaded that, for some reason best known to herself, Miss
+Marguérite Garth had adopted this freakish method of revisiting her old
+home. Such a thesis made all things plausible. It explained her
+singularly self-contained pose, her knowledge of the house's contents,
+her wish to remain hidden from prying eyes, and, last but not least, it
+brought the peculiar conduct of the Jackson family into a commonplace
+category, for the two women would be governed by a clannish feeling
+which is almost as powerful in rural Yorkshire as in Scotland. A girl
+who had lived nearly all her life in the village would be looked on as a
+native. She might appeal confidently for their help and connivance in
+such a matter.
+
+But this girl's father was alive, and Marguérite Garth's father had been
+in a suicide's grave two years. Who, then, was the audacious young lady
+now assuring him that he could boil eggs admirably? He was puzzled anew,
+almost piqued, because he flattered himself on a faculty for guessing
+accurately at the contents of a good many closed pages in a human
+document after a glance at the outer cover and its endorsement. He was
+spurred to fresh endeavor. He wanted to solve this riddle before its
+baffling intricacies were made plain by the all-satisfying statement
+which his companion obviously had it in mind to give.
+
+"Won't you remove your hat?" he said, thinking to perplex her by a
+mischievous request.
+
+"No, thanks," she said blithely. "I'll just demolish this second egg.
+Then I'll tell you why I am here, and awaken Mrs. Jackson, no matter
+what her neighbors may think. But, why wait? I can eat and talk--put the
+facts in an eggshell, so to speak. My relatives own this house. Mr.
+Garth has long wanted a few books and knick-knacks, and I've come to get
+them. Some are collected already on the library table; the remainder
+I'll gather in the morning, with your permission. But I don't wish my
+visit to be known to others than Mrs. Jackson and Betty, and that is why
+I retreated to the loft when you and Mr. Walker arrived. It was a bother
+that anyone should select this day in particular to visit the property;
+but I imagined you would go away in an hour or so. Even when that vain
+young person, James Walker, locked me in, I believed Betty would come
+and release me after your departure. Besides, I wouldn't for worlds have
+let Walker see me. I--er--dislike him too much."
+
+Armathwaite allowed to pass without comment her real motive for refusing
+to meet sharp-eyed James Walker; but again the problem of her identity
+called insistently for solution. If she was not Marguérite Garth, who on
+earth was she?
+
+"Let me understand," he began. "The owner, and former occupant, of this
+house, was Mr. Stephen Garth?"
+
+"Is," she corrected. "It remains his property, though he is living
+elsewhere."
+
+Armathwaite so far forgot himself as to whistle softly between his
+teeth. And, indeed, such momentary impoliteness might be excused by his
+bewilderment. If Stephen Garth, who had owned and occupied the Grange,
+was still living, who was the man whose ghost had excited Elmdale, and
+driven back to prosaic Sheffield a certain Mrs. Wilkins, of nervous
+disposition and excitable habit?
+
+"Ah!" he said judicially. "Messrs. Walker & Son, of Nuttonby, are his
+agents and Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, also of Nuttonby, his solicitors?"
+
+"I suppose so," said the girl, deep in the second egg.
+
+"But I understood that Mr. Stephen Garth had only one child, a
+daughter."
+
+"Isn't he allowed to have a nephew, or an assorted lot of cousins?"
+
+"Such contingencies are permissible, but they don't meet the present
+case."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, my dear young lady, anyone with half an eye in their head
+could see that you are a girl masquerading in a man's clothes. Now, who
+are you? I am entitled to ask. I have certain legal rights as the tenant
+of this house during the forthcoming three months, and as you have
+broken the law in more ways than you imagine, perhaps, I want to be
+enlightened before I condone your various offenses."
+
+The girl was holding a glass of milk to her lips, and drank slowly until
+the glass was emptied; but her eyes met Armathwaite's over the rim, and
+they were dilated with apprehension, for a heedless prank was spreading
+into realms she had never dreamed of.
+
+"Does it really matter who I am?" she managed to say quietly, though
+there was a pitiful flutter in her voice, and the hand which replaced
+the tumbler on the table shook perceptibly.
+
+"Yes, it matters a great deal," he said. With a generosity that was now
+beginning to dawn on her, he averted his gaze, and scrutinized a colored
+print on the wall.
+
+"But why?" she persisted.
+
+"Because I am convinced that you are Mr. Stephen Garth's daughter."
+
+She drew a deep breath, and he was aware instantly that she was hovering
+on the verge of candid confession. She moved uneasily, propped her
+elbows on the table, and concealed some part of her features by placing
+her clenched fists against her cheeks.
+
+"Well, what if I am?" she said at last, with a touch of the earlier
+defiance in her voice.
+
+"Are you? Please answer outright."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your father is alive?"
+
+"Of course he is!"
+
+"Mother, too?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do they know you are here?"
+
+"No. For some reason, they have taken a dislike to Elmdale, and hardly
+ever mention it, or the Grange, for that matter. Yet my poor old dad is
+such a creature of habit that he is always missing something--a book, a
+favorite picture, a bit of china, and I schemed to come here, pack a few
+of the articles he most values, and have them sent to our cottage in
+Cornwall. Once they're there, they couldn't very well be sent back,
+could they? But as my people have forbidden me ever to speak of or come
+near Elmdale, I didn't quite know how to manage it, until I hit on the
+notion of impersonating Percy Whittaker, the brother of a friend with
+whom I have been staying in Cheshire. Percy would do anything for me,
+but there was no sense in sending him, was there? He would be sure to
+bungle things awfully, so I borrowed his togs, and traveled all night to
+a station on the other side of the moor--and nobody--thought--I was--a
+girl--except you--and Betty, of course. She--knew me--at once."
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't cry. I believe you--every word. But did you
+travel from Cheshire in that rig-out?"
+
+"No, oh, no! I wore a mackintosh, and a lady's hat. They're hanging in
+the hall. I took them off while crossing the moor."
+
+"A mackintosh!"
+
+"Yes. Don't be horrid! I turned up my trousers, of course."
+
+"I'm not being horrid. I want to help you. You walked--how many miles?"
+
+"Fourteen."
+
+"And breakfasted at York?"
+
+"Yes. You see, Betty would have brought me some lunch. Then _you_ came."
+
+"The bedroom was prepared for your use, then?"
+
+"Yes. It's my room, really. Dad likes to sleep with his head to the
+west, and that is where the door is in that room."
+
+"Poor girl! I would have given a good deal that this thing should not
+have happened. But we must make the best of a bad job. Now, I hope
+you'll accept my advice. Let me go upstairs and remove the clothes I
+shall need in the morning. Then you retire there, lock the door, and
+sleep well till Betty comes."
+
+"Oh, I can't! You are very kind, but I _must_ go to Mrs. Jackson now."
+
+She had blushed and paled in alternate seconds. Half rising, she sank
+back into the chair again; though the table was between them, the
+wearing of a boy's clothes was not quite so easy a matter as it had
+seemed earlier. The one thing she did not guess was that this
+serious-faced man was far more troubled by thoughts of a reputed ghost
+than by an escapade which now loomed large in her mind.
+
+"I'm half inclined to make you obey me," he said angrily, gazing at her
+now with fixed and troubled eyes.
+
+"But you've been so good and kind," she almost sobbed. "Why should you
+be vexed with me now? I've told you the truth, I have, indeed."
+
+"That is precisely the reason why I am sure you ought not to risk
+arousing the village to-night."
+
+"But I won't. I'll tap at the window. Betty knows I'm here, somewhere,
+and she'll let me in at once."
+
+Armathwaite was at his wits end to decide on the sanest course. A man
+less versed than he in the complexities of life would have counseled her
+retreat to the cottage as the only practicable means of escape from a
+position bristling with difficulties; but some subtle and intuitive
+sense warned him that Marguérite Garth should, if possible, leave
+Elmdale without the knowledge which credited that house with a veritable
+ghost.
+
+"It's long after midnight," he persisted. "I'll have a snooze in a
+chair, and meet Betty Jackson before you show up. You can trust me
+absolutely to explain things to her."
+
+"You forget that she is worrying dreadfully about me. Please let me go!"
+
+"Very well," he said, driven to the half measures he had learnt to
+detest. "Promise me this--that you'll go straight to bed, and come here
+for breakfast without any conversation with the Jacksons."
+
+The girl showed her relief, not unmixed with surprise at a
+strangely-worded stipulation.
+
+"I'll do that," she said, after a little pause.
+
+"Mind you--no talk. Just 'Good-night, I'm dead tired,' and that sort of
+thing."
+
+"Yes," she agreed again, wonderingly.
+
+"And the same in the morning?"
+
+"I'll do my best."
+
+"Off with you, then! I'll come to the door, and stand there, in case
+you're challenged by anybody."
+
+"There's little fear of that in Elmdale at this hour," she said, with a
+new cheerfulness. He turned, ostensibly to pick up the electric torch.
+She was out in the hall instantly; when he rejoined her she was wearing
+the mackintosh.
+
+"Good-night!" she said. "Next to dad, you're the nicest man I've ever
+met, and I don't even know your name."
+
+"I'll introduce myself at breakfast," he growled, extinguishing the
+torch as he opened the door. He watched her swift run down the curving
+path to the gate, and heard her footsteps as she hurried into the
+village street. The night was so still that he knew when she turned into
+the front garden of the cottage, and he caught the tapping on a window,
+which, beginning timidly, soon grew more emphatic, perhaps more
+desperate.
+
+Some minutes passed. He could see the back of the cottage, and no gleam
+of light shone in any of its tiny windows. Then followed some decided
+thumping on a door, but the tenement might have been an empty barn for
+all the response that was forthcoming.
+
+Finally, he was aware of slow feet climbing dejectedly up the hill, and
+the garden gate creaked.
+
+"I can't make anybody hear," wailed a tearful voice.
+
+Armathwaite was even more surprised than the girl at this dramatic
+verification of his prophecy, but he availed himself of it as
+unscrupulously as any Delphic oracle.
+
+"I told you so," he said. "Now, come in and go to bed!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SHOWING HOW EXPLANATIONS DO NOT ALWAYS EXPLAIN
+
+
+Though weary and distrait, Marguérite Garth was of too frank a
+disposition to allow such an extraordinary incident to pass without
+comment. She halted in the porch by Armathwaite's side, and gazed
+blankly at the silent cottage.
+
+"You spoke of a ghost," she murmured brokenly. "I'm beginning to think
+myself that I am bewitched. What can have happened? Why won't Betty or
+her mother let me in?"
+
+"I'll have much pleasure in clearing up that trivial mystery about eight
+o'clock in the morning," he said with due gravity, fearing lest any
+attempt to relieve the situation by a joke might have the disastrous
+effect often achieved by a would-be humorist when a perplexed woman on
+the verge of tears is the subject of his wit. "Now, if you'll wait in
+the dining-room till I collect my garments, you'll be in bed and asleep
+within five minutes."
+
+He gave her no further opportunity for argument or protestation. Closing
+and locking the door, he left the key in the lock, whereas, by virtue of
+the arrangement with Betty Jackson, it had reposed previously on the
+hall-table. In a few seconds he bustled in with an armful of clothes and
+a pair of boots. Handing over the torch, he said cheerfully:
+
+"Now, leave everything to me, and you'll be astonished to find how all
+your woes will vanish by daylight. Good-night, and sleep well!"
+
+Then the girl did a strange thing. She held the torch close to his face,
+and looked at him unflinchingly.
+
+"I am very fortunate in having met a man like you," she said, and,
+without another word, turned and mounted the stairs. He waited until the
+bedroom door closed, and listened for the click of a lock, but listened
+in vain.
+
+"It would appear that I'm still able to win the confidence of children
+and dogs," he muttered, smiling grimly. Then he made a pillow of his
+clothes on a couch beneath the window, and, such was the force of habit,
+was asleep quite soon. A glint of sunlight reflected from the glass in a
+picture woke him at four o'clock. After glancing at his watch, he slept
+again, and was aroused the next time by the crunch of feet on the
+graveled path outside. He was at the door while Betty Jackson was yet
+trying to insert the key which she had withdrawn and pocketed overnight.
+
+He admitted her, and said good-humoredly:
+
+"I came downstairs when you ran away from a goblin gong, leaving the
+door unlocked. I don't suppose we are in danger of burglary in Elmdale,
+but it is customary to take reasonable precautions."
+
+Betty, who was carrying a jug of milk, flushed till her cheeks resembled
+a ripe russet apple. Denial was useless, but she tried to wriggle.
+
+"I didn't mean any harm, sir," she said. "I only wanted to have a look
+around. The house is so upset."
+
+"Put that milk on the dining-room table," he said.
+
+She obeyed, glad that a dreaded ordeal seemed to have ended ere it had
+well begun. Armathwaite followed, and closed the dining-room door. What
+he really feared was that she might drop the jug, and that the resultant
+crash would awaken his guest before Betty and he had engaged in a
+heart-to-heart talk.
+
+"Now," he said, raising the blind, and flooding the room with clear
+morning light, "I take you for a sensible girl, Betty."
+
+"I hope I am, sir," she answered shyly.
+
+"Have you quite recovered from your fright?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+She reddened again, thinking she knew what was coming. She could have
+dealt with Walker, but glib pertness would not avail when this tall
+stranger's eyes were piercing her very soul. Nevertheless, his tone was
+gentle and reassuring--at first.
+
+"I was ignorant of the real facts, you see, so I had to defend myself,"
+he said. "I know the truth now. Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep. She
+heard the commotion caused by the gong, and could not endure the strain
+and loneliness of that dark garret any longer--"
+
+"Was Miss Meg there--in the loft?" cried Betty, blurting out the first
+vague thought that occurred to her bemused brain, because those words,
+"Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep," swamped her understanding with a
+veritable torrent of significance.
+
+"Yes. She hid there when Mr. Walker and I entered the house, and, by the
+merest chance, she was fastened in. She remained there twelve hours."
+
+"Oh, poor thing! She'd be nearly clemmed to death."
+
+In Yorkshire, "clemmed" means "starved," and "starved" means "perished
+with cold." Armathwaite could follow many of the vernacular phrases, and
+this one did not bother him.
+
+"She was hungry, without doubt," he said, "but I did not send her
+supperless to bed. Now, I have various questions to put before you go to
+her room, and I want straightforward, honest answers. If I am told the
+truth, I shall know how to act for the best in Miss Garth's interests;
+and that is what _you_ wish, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I'm sure none of us had any notion of doing wrong."
+
+"Don't speak so loudly. I want no explanations of your behavior
+yesterday. It would have been wise had you trusted in me at once, but
+that was hardly to be expected, seeing that I was a man fallen from the
+moon.... Why didn't you let Miss Garth enter when she knocked at your
+window and the door last night?"
+
+The girl's eyes opened wide in sheer distress.
+
+"Oh, sir!" she almost whispered; "what time did she come?"
+
+"About midnight."
+
+"There now! I half fancied that such a thing might happen. When I ran
+home, sir, I was fair scairt, because there _has_ been talk of a ghost,
+and I wasn't too keen about coming in here in the dark. But mother was
+worried, and wouldn't go to bed. She would have it that Miss Meg had got
+clear of the house, and was hiding in a shed at the top of the lane. So,
+after a lot of talk, mother and I went there together. There was a light
+in the dining-room as we passed, but it had gone out when we came back."
+
+"Solvitur ambulando," muttered the man, smiling at the simple solution
+of an occurrence which had puzzled him greatly at the time.
+
+"What's that, sir?" demanded Betty.
+
+"Sorry. I was thinking aloud--a bad habit. Those two Latin words mean
+that your walk to the shed disposes of a difficulty. Now for the next
+item, Betty. Miss Meg, as you call her, is the young lady who lived here
+a good many years?"
+
+"She was born here, sir. She and I are nearly of an age--twenty-two,
+each of us."
+
+"And her father was Mr. Stephen Garth?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But isn't he dead?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! Dead and buried two years this very month."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Mother was the first who saw his dead body. She was nearly
+frightened into a fit."
+
+"Tell me the exact facts."
+
+"Well, sir, Mrs. Garth and Miss Meg went away, all of a sudden. There
+was no quarrel that we know of, and Mr. Garth himself helped a man to
+carry out their boxes. They kissed on parting at the gate. I myself
+heard him saying that he would join them as soon as he had finished some
+book he was busy with. He was a great man for writing and studying, and
+he'd walk ten miles to get some granny's tale about dales ways, and the
+things people used to do in the old times. But no sooner had they left
+him than he changed. We all noticed it. He paid off the gardener, and
+dismissed two maids, and lived here alone. That didn't last long. I used
+to bring eggs and milk and things, and he'd take them in at the door.
+He'd talk pleasantly enough, but he looked awful worried. Then, one
+morning, I couldn't make anybody hear, and I thought he had gone out
+early. About seven o'clock that evening mother went and knocked, but
+there was no answer. Next morning it was the same; but when mother and I
+tried again in the evening, we noticed that the curtain, which can be
+drawn across the glass top of the door, had been pulled aside. At the
+inquest they wanted to know if it had been in the same position when we
+were there before, but we couldn't be certain, though we thought it must
+have been drawn. Anyhow, mother looked in, and ran away screaming, and I
+ran after her, not knowing why. In a minute or two she was able to
+speak, and said she had seen Mr. Garth hanging near the clock. Some men
+went, and they saw him clearly, and one of them, Mr. Benson, rode to
+Bellerby for the policeman. He came in about an hour, and broke open the
+door, and cut poor Mr. Garth down. He had been dead a long time, the
+doctor said, and the worst thing was that nobody could find Mrs. Garth
+and Miss Meg. Not that any blame could be laid to them, because Mr.
+Garth himself said so in a letter addressed 'To the Coroner,' which was
+laid at the foot of the clock. We have a weekly paper in the cottage,
+sir, and you can see the whole account there."
+
+"Get that paper, and give it to me privately sometime to-day," said
+Armathwaite. "Meanwhile, your story is ample for my present purpose.
+Were you surprised at seeing Miss Garth yesterday?"
+
+"Sir, you could have knocked me down with a feather. And she in a man's
+clothes, and all. She came over the moor about ten o'clock--"
+
+"Never mind the details now. Did she speak of her father?"
+
+"In a sort of a way, sir."
+
+"Did she give you the impression that he was still living?"
+
+"Now that you mention it, sir, she did, but I couldn't quite understand
+what she said, and thought, for sure, I was mistaken. It wasn't the kind
+of thing one might ask questions about--was it, sir?"
+
+"No, indeed. Knowing he had committed suicide, you didn't like to hurt
+her feelings?"
+
+"That's it, sir, exactly."
+
+"You hadn't much talk, I take it?"
+
+"No, sir. She was all of a shake with excitement, and wanted to be let
+into the house before anyone else in the village could see her. I was to
+leave her alone till one o'clock, she said. Then I was to bring her
+something to eat, and we'd have a long chat. And that's the last I've
+seen of her, sir."
+
+It has been noted that Armathwaite was no lover of the middle way in
+dealing with the hazards of existence. In fact, strength of will and
+inflexibility of purpose had already driven him from place and power to
+the haven of retirement, which he imagined he would find in Elmdale. He
+had made up his mind overnight as to the handling of the problem set by
+Marguérite Garth's presence in her father's house, and he saw no reason
+now why he should depart from the decision reached then.
+
+"You've been very candid, Betty Jackson," he said, looking steadily into
+the girl's wondering eyes, "and I mean to be equally outspoken with you.
+For some cause, which I cannot fathom, and may never inquire into, Miss
+Garth is not only unaware of any recent death in her family, but is
+convinced that her father is alive and well. There is a flaw in the
+argument somewhere, but it is hardly my business, nor yours, to discover
+the weak spot. Now, I propose that we let the young lady leave Elmdale
+as happy in her belief, or her ignorance, as she entered it. In plain
+English, I suggest that neither you, nor I, nor your mother, say one
+syllable about the suicide of Mr. Stephen Garth. If his daughter
+believes he is living, we should be hard put to it to convince her that
+he is dead."
+
+"He _is_ dead, sir. I saw him in his coffin," said Betty earnestly.
+
+"I am not disputing your statement. My sole consideration, at this
+moment, is the happiness of the girl now lying asleep upstairs. Suppose,
+within the next hour or two, she says something about the surprise her
+father will receive when he sees some of the books and other articles
+she means to send to her present home, are you going to tell her that
+she is utterly mistaken--that Mr. Garth has been dead and buried--that
+she is talking like a lunatic?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir! I wouldn't dream of speaking that way to Miss Meg."
+
+"But don't you see, it has to be either one thing or the other. Either
+you accept her view that her father is alive, or you are constantly
+acting in a way that must arouse her suspicions. And, if once she begins
+to question you, what will happen then? You'll be in a ten times more
+difficult position than if you convince yourself, for the time being,
+that you were dreaming when you saw some man in a coffin."
+
+"But I wasn't," persisted Betty. "Why, sir, the whole village knows----"
+
+"I'm not doubting your word in the least. The point at issue is this--do
+you mean to perplex and worry Miss Meg by informing her that her father
+hanged himself in the hall of this very house two years ago?"
+
+"No, sir. That I don't."
+
+"You promise that?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir."
+
+"I'm glad you've come to my way of thinking. Miss Garth will leave here
+to-day, or to-morrow, at the latest. Till then, you must keep guard over
+your tongue. Go now, and tell your mother what I have told you. Make
+her understand the facts most clearly. If she agrees to help you and me
+in this matter, she is to come here and take up a housekeeper's duties.
+I'll pay her and you well for your services, but my instructions must be
+carried out to the letter. If she refuses, or feels unable, to obey my
+wishes in this matter, she is not to cross the threshold. Do you
+understand that fully?"
+
+Armathwaite could be tersely emphatic in speech and manner when he
+chose. He had taken Betty Jackson into his confidence, but he had also
+expressed his intentions in a way that left her in no doubt as to the
+result if any lack of discretion on her part, or her mother's, led to a
+crisis. He had gauged the situation to a nicety. Mrs. Jackson and her
+daughter were well disposed towards Marguérite Garth, but there was no
+harm in stilling their tongues through the forceful medium of
+self-interest.
+
+When the two came back together within a few minutes he knew that he had
+swept immediate obstacles from the path. Mrs. Jackson was a shrewd
+Yorkshire woman, and needed no blare of trumpets to inform her on which
+side her bread was buttered.
+
+"Good morning, sir," she cried cheerfully. "Betty has told me what you
+said, and I think you're quite right. What time do you want breakfast,
+and what'll you have cooked?"
+
+Armathwaite nodded his satisfaction.
+
+"We three will get along famously," he laughed. "Now, Betty, put some
+water in one of the bedrooms, and, when you call Miss Garth, get my
+dressing-case, which is on the table, and bring it to me. She will
+answer your mother's questions about breakfast. Any hour that suits her
+will suit me. And let us all look as pleasant as though there wasn't
+such a thing as a ghost within a thousand miles of Elmdale."
+
+The chance phrase reminded him of the elder Walker's words: "Elmdale is
+eight miles from Nuttonby, and thousands from every other town." Yet,
+remote as was this moor-edge hamlet, a sordid tragedy had been enacted
+there. Someone had died in that house under circumstances which called
+imperatively for a most searching inquiry. A daylight phantom had
+replaced the grim specter which credulous villagers were wont to see on
+a summer's eve. Was it his business to exorcise the evil spirit? He did
+not know. He closed his eyes resolutely to that side of the difficulty.
+Marguérite Garth must be sent on her way first; then he would make a
+guarded investigation into the history of the man whom Mrs. Jackson had
+seen "hanging near the clock."
+
+When summoned to the dining-room he received a shock. Man-like, he had
+pictured his unbidden guest as he had seen her the previous night. Now
+he was greeted by a smiling and prepossessed young lady, who had
+extracted a muslin gown from the stock in the wardrobe, and whose
+piquant face was crowned by a wealth of brown hair. The presence of
+woman's chief adornment naturally enhanced the girl's remarkable beauty.
+In defiance, too, of certain modern laws of hygiene--or perhaps because
+she couldn't help it, being built that way--she had a very slim waist.
+Last night she would have passed in a crowd for a boy of slender
+physique; this morning she was adorably feminine. During fifteen years
+of strenuous work in the East, Armathwaite had never given a thought to
+the opposite sex. He had seen little of his country-women, for the
+Indian frontier is not a haven for married officers, and he personally
+would have regarded a wife as a positive hindrance to his work; so it
+was a singular fact that his first reflection now should be that a
+certain Percy Whittaker, whom, in all probability, he would never set
+eyes on, was a person to be envied. He almost scowled at the absurdity
+of the notion, and the girl, extending her hand, caught the fleeting
+expression.
+
+"Aren't you pleased to see me?" she cried. "I made sure you were aching
+for my appearance. Betty tells me you were up and about before she
+arrived, and I have been an unconscionable time dressing; you must be
+pining for breakfast."
+
+"You shall not rob me of a chance of saying that I am glad to see you by
+that unnecessary tag about breakfast," he said.
+
+"But isn't it an awful bore to find you have a girl lodger? Poor man!
+You hire a house in the country for a fishing holiday, and fate condemns
+you to play host!"
+
+"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have
+entertained angels unawares," he quoted.
+
+"Is that from Proverbs?"
+
+"No. It occurs in a certain epistle to the Hebrews."
+
+She knitted her brows.
+
+"I thought so," she said. "I'm rather good at Proverbs, and I don't
+remember that one. If you meant to give me a nasty knock you might have
+reminded me that it is better to dwell in a corner of the house-top than
+with a brawling woman in a wide house.... Do you like coffee, or tea?"
+
+"Both."
+
+"Mixed? Mrs. Jackson didn't know your tastes, so I told her to be
+extravagant."
+
+"I'll try the coffee, please."
+
+It was an odd sensation to find himself seated at table with such a
+vivacious companion. Marguérite Garth had evidently banished her
+overnight experiences into the limbo of yesterday's seven thousand
+years. She could not have smiled more gayly, or been more at ease with a
+friend of long standing.
+
+"Betty and I have been exchanging impressions about you," she rattled
+on. "We agree that you're not half so severe as you look. But I'm not
+such a marvelous guesser as you are, so, will you tell me what I'm to
+call you?"
+
+"Bob."
+
+"Mr. Bob?"
+
+"I don't mean that my name rhymes with Lobb, or Dobb or Hobb. Bob is a
+diminutive of Robert."
+
+"But Robert what?"
+
+"No, just Bob."
+
+"Don't be silly. You must have another name."
+
+"The name on Mr. Walker's register is such a mouthful--Armathwaite, if
+you _will_ have it."
+
+"What a queer way to put it! 'On Mr. Walker's register.' Isn't it your
+real name?"
+
+"There! I was sure you would say that. Why not be content with blunt and
+honest-sounding Bob?"
+
+"Shall we establish a sort of cousinship? You're Bob and I'm Meg."
+
+"That would be a most excellent beginning, Meg."
+
+She laughed delightedly.
+
+"We're having quite an adventure!" she cried. "It sounds like a chapter
+out of an exciting novel. I hope you didn't think I was rude about your
+other name--the long one--Bob! You see, I used to be Meg Garth, but now
+I'm Meg Ogilvey. I'm hardly accustomed to the Ogilvey yet, but I rather
+like it. Don't you?"
+
+Armathwaite's face darkened, and he swallowed a piece of bacon without
+giving it even one of the twenty-nine bites recommended by dietists as a
+minimum.
+
+"Why, that makes you look at me black as thunder," she vowed. "It's a
+quite simple matter. My people came into some money when we left
+Elmdale, and the Ogilvey was part of the legacy. It reaches us from the
+maternal side of the family, and the change was easy enough for dad,
+because he always wrote under the pen-name of Stephen Ogilvey."
+
+"Stephen Ogilvey--the man who is an authority on folk-lore?"
+
+The genuine surprise in his voice evidently pleased his hearer.
+
+"Yes. How thrilling that you should recognize him! That is real fame,
+isn't it?--to be regarded as top-dog in your particular line. But you
+seemed to be angry when I told you about it."
+
+"I thought you were married," he said, secretly quaking at his own
+temerity.
+
+Again she knitted her brows in a rather fascinating effort to appear
+sagacious.
+
+"I don't quite see----" she began. Then she stopped suddenly.
+
+"You think that if I were married I wouldn't be quite such a tom-boy--is
+that it?" she went on.
+
+"No. You've failed so badly in your interpretation of my thought that I
+dare hardly tell you its true meaning."
+
+"Please do. I hate to misunderstand people."
+
+"Well, I'll try and explain. You have not forgotten, I hope, that I have
+already described you as an angel?"
+
+"Your quotation wasn't a bit more applicable than mine."
+
+"Be that as it may, I cannot imagine an angel married. Can you?"
+
+"Good gracious! Am I to remain single all my life?"
+
+"Who am I that I should choose between an angel and Meg Ogilvey?"
+
+"I wouldn't limit your choice so narrowly," she said, eluding his point
+with ease. "Besides, I've been expecting every minute to hear that
+there is a Mrs. Armathwaite."
+
+"There isn't!"
+
+"I'm sorry. I wish there was, and that she was here now. Then, if she
+was nice, and you wouldn't have married her if she wasn't, she would ask
+me to stay a few days. And I would say 'Yes, please.' As it is, I must
+hurry over my packing, and take myself back to Cheshire."
+
+"Yes," said he, compelling the words. "There is no doubt about that. You
+cannot remain here."
+
+"Well, you needn't hammer in the fact that you'll be glad to be rid of
+me. Have some more coffee?"
+
+A heavy step sounded on the path without. The girl, who was seated with
+her back to the window, turned and looked out.
+
+"Here's Tom Bland, the Nuttonby carrier," she cried excitedly, smiling
+and nodding at some person visible only to herself. "Dear old Tom! Won't
+he be surprised at seeing me!"
+
+Armathwaite's wandering wits were suddenly and sharply recalled to the
+extraordinary situation confronting him.
+
+"You don't mean that some local man has recognized you?" he growled, and
+the note of real annoyance in his voice brought a wondering glance from
+the girl.
+
+"We gazed straight at one another, at any rate," she said, with a
+perceptible stiffening of manner. "Considering that Tom knows me as well
+as I know him, it would be stupid to pretend that neither of us knows
+the other. It would be useless where Tom is concerned, at any rate. He
+grinned all over his face, so I may as well go to the door and have a
+word with him."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Armathwaite, springing to his
+feet, and upsetting a plate in his hurry. "If Tom Bland says he has seen
+you here, I'll tell him he's several varieties of a liar. At this moment
+Marguérite Garth simply doesn't exist. She's a myth. The lady in this
+room is Meg Ogilvey, whom Tom Bland has never heard of before. Now,
+understand, that I forbid you to move or show your face again at the
+window."
+
+"Oh, my!" pouted the girl, making believe to be very much afraid of him.
+That was the hardest part of the task confronting the Grange's latest
+tenant. He could awe and keep in check ten thousand turbulent and
+fanatical Pathans for many a year, but a clear-eyed English girl of
+twenty-two refused to be either awe-stricken or kept in restraint for as
+many minutes. Yet he must bend her to his will, for her own sake. He
+must force her away from Elmdale, from the hourly possibility of some
+ghastly revelation which would darken and embitter her life. The
+undertaking would go against the grain, but he dared not shirk it, and,
+once his mind was made up, he was not one whose resolution faltered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+GATHERING CLOUDS
+
+
+The Nuttonby carrier took the new tenant of the Grange into his circle
+of acquaintances with the ready camaraderie of his class.
+
+"Fine morning, sir," said he.
+
+"An excellent morning," said Armathwaite. "Have you brought my boxes?"
+
+"Yes, sir. They be rare an' heavy, an' all."
+
+"You and I can manage them between us, I have no doubt," and Armathwaite
+led the way to the gate. As they passed the dining-room, Bland stared
+candidly through the window, but the girl was not visible.
+
+"I didn't reckon on seein' Miss Meg to-day, sir," he said.
+
+"Miss Meg? Who's Miss Meg?" smiled the other.
+
+"Why, poor Mr. Garth's lass, to be sure."
+
+"Ah! My cousin thought you were under the impression that you recognized
+her. But you are mistaken. The lady you saw is Miss Marguérite Ogilvey."
+
+"Is she now? Well, that takes it! I could ha' sworn--Miss who, sir?"
+
+Armathwaite repeated the name, and Tom Bland scratched his head. He was
+elderly, and weather-tanned as the Nuttonby porter, but his occupation
+had quickened his wits; there are times when one should not reiterate an
+opinion.
+
+"You'll not have tried the beck yet, sir?" he said, twisting the
+conversation rather obviously. "I had a turn in the Swale meself last
+evenin'--this water runs into it, ye ken, an' the troot were risin'
+fine."
+
+"What flies did you use?"
+
+"Two March browns an' a black gnat. There's nowt like a March brown, to
+my thinkin'."
+
+"Can you tell me who owns the land in that direction?" and Armathwaite
+pointed to the wooded gill which cut into the moorland to the eastward.
+
+Bland gave some names, which Armathwaite entered in a notebook. He was
+wondering whether or not he should ask the man not to mention that he
+had seen a second occupant of the house, but decided that gossip would
+be stilled more quickly if the topic were left severely alone. He knew
+that Walker had told the carrier certain facts about himself. Possibly
+there would be some talk when next the two met, but, by that time, the
+Grange would have lost its highly interesting visitor, and Armathwaite
+smiled at the notion of the dapper young auctioneer trying to extract
+information from him.
+
+The boxes, too, permitted of no waste of breath. When the third was
+dumped in the hall Bland was gasping, and Armathwaite's rather sallow
+face wore a heightened color.
+
+"That was a stiff haul for your horse. How much?" said the owner of
+these solid trunks.
+
+"It's eight miles----" began Bland. Despite a fixed tariff he could not
+forego an opportunity for bargaining, and Yorkshire will never give a
+direct answer if it can be avoided.
+
+"Sixteen, really," broke in Armathwaite. "Will sixteen shillings meet
+the case?"
+
+But Bland drew the line at downright extortion.
+
+"Nay, nay!" he said. "I had a few calls on the way, an' there's some
+empties to go back from the Fox and Hounds. Take off the six, sir, an'
+I'll be very content."
+
+Armathwaite paid him and added a florin "for a drink." As it happened,
+Betty Jackson crossed the hall, and nodded a greeting. This was
+fortunate. The girl's presence lent a needed touch of domesticity.
+
+"Ye'll hae gotten Betty an' her mother to do for you?" commented the
+carrier.
+
+"Yes. I was lucky to find them available."
+
+"Ay, they're all right. They'll mak' ye comfortable. They will, an' all.
+I've known Mrs. Jackson these fot-ty year. Good mornin', sir. If you
+want owt frae Nuttonby just tell the postman. I come this way Tuesdays,
+Thursdays an' Saturdays."
+
+With the departure of the carrier Armathwaite fancied that the
+irksomeness of life would lessen. The "cousin" of recent adoption had
+evidently withdrawn to the farther part of the dining-room, because
+Bland, despite many attempts, had not set eyes on her again. She, of
+course, was aware when he mounted into the cart and rumbled out of sight
+around the corner of the cottage. She came out. Armathwaite was
+unstrapping the boxes. One was already open, revealing books in layers.
+
+"Sorry I'm such a nuisance," she said quietly. "Of course, it was
+thoughtless of me to nod to Tom Bland, but he took me by surprise.
+Naturally, you don't wish people to know I am in Elmdale. Will you
+confer one last favor? Take your rods and pannier, and go for a couple
+of hours' fishing. I shall scoot before you return. I'll select the few
+things I require, and Betty will pack them, and hand them over to Bland
+on Saturday."
+
+He was on his knees and looked up at her.
+
+"By 'scooting' do you mean that you are going to walk across that moor
+again?" he demanded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"If that is the only possible way of escape, I'll go with you."
+
+"Walk twenty-eight miles? Ridiculous!"
+
+"You're not going alone."
+
+"I am." This with a little stamp of one of the brown brogues, mighty
+fetching.
+
+"I shall not force my company on you, if that is what you fear."
+
+"But how absurd! Do you intend following me?"
+
+"Yes--until you are within easy range of the railway."
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite, I'm perfectly well able to take care of myself."
+
+"I'm sure of it, Meg. But a cousin should be cousinly. Our relationship
+will not be close. Say, a distance of two hundred yards."
+
+He smiled into her eyes; his stern face softened wonderfully when he
+smiled.
+
+"I couldn't think of permitting it," she pouted, eyeing him with a new
+interest.
+
+He sat back on his heels, and affected a resigned attitude.
+
+"Let's argue the point for two hours," he said. "I can't go fishing,
+because I shall be trespassing until I have acquired some rights.
+Moreover, nothing short of violence will stop me from escorting you
+over the moor. In this weather, moors contain tramps."
+
+"I know. I met two yesterday."
+
+"Did they speak to you?"
+
+"One did. I didn't mind him. The second one turned and looked. I was
+ready to run, but he only stared."
+
+"May I ask what costume you intend wearing for to-day's outing?"
+
+"I haven't quite decided. It may be a blue Shantung or a white piqué,
+but it won't be gray flannel, if that's what you're hinting at."
+
+He rose, and felt in his pockets.
+
+"I think we can get through those two hours comfortably. May I smoke?"
+he said.
+
+"Yes, please do. Then you won't be so grumpy. Walk twenty-eight miles on
+my account! The idea!"
+
+"I've walked forty before to-day, and stood a very reasonable chance of
+being potted every inch of the way. You won't fire at me, at any rate,
+so twenty-eight is a mere stroll. In fact, if you are gracious, it can
+be a pleasant one, too."
+
+"Potted! Were you in the army?"
+
+"No. Soldiers like that sort of thing! I didn't so I gave it up. Sure
+you don't mind a pipe?"
+
+"I love it. I often fill and light dad's for him when he's busy. You
+ought to see him when he's tracking some Norse legend to its lair, or
+clearing up a point left doubtful by Frazer in the _Golden Bough_. Have
+you ever read Frazer? I know him and Mannhardt almost by heart. I help
+dad a lot in my own little way. Have you ever played cat's cradle?"
+
+"With a piece of string?"
+
+"Yes. Well, games and folk-lore go together, and cat's cradle has been
+played since the ancient Britons wore--whatever ancient Britons did
+wear. Now, you're laughing at me."
+
+"Indeed, I'm not. I was marveling at our kindred tastes. Have you heard
+of the Jatakas and Panchatantras of India?"
+
+"I know that there are such things."
+
+"I'll jot down two or three, with a translation."
+
+"Oh, wouldn't dad love to meet you! He often growls because he can't
+read Sanskrit."
+
+"Tell me where you live, and I'll look you up some day."
+
+"Our permanent address is----Oh, my! Somebody's coming, and I don't want
+you to be cross with me again."
+
+She fled into the kitchen. The door had hardly closed when a shadow
+darkened the porch. Armathwaite, lighting his pipe, gazed through a
+cloud of smoke at a red-faced policeman.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Who have _you_ come for?"
+
+The policeman grinned, and saluted.
+
+"There's not much doing in Elmdale in my line, sir," he said. "I was
+told the Grange had a new tenant, so I just looked in. I come this way
+Thursday mornings and Monday nights, as a rule. I'm stationed at
+Bellerby, nearly three miles from here. Last time I was in this
+hall----"
+
+Armathwaite was too quick for him. Residence in Mr. Walker's "house
+'round the corner" had proved so rife in surprises that the long arm of
+coincidence might be expected to play its part at any moment. So he
+countered deftly.
+
+"Sorry I can't be more hospitable," he broke in, advancing, and
+deliberately causing the constable to step back into the porch.
+"Everything is at sixes and sevens. I only arrived yesterday, and my
+boxes, as you see, are not yet unpacked."
+
+He closed the door, feeling certain that his judgment had not erred. It
+was soon justified.
+
+"Next time you're passing, give me a call," he went on. "I'll be able to
+offer you a whisky and soda or a bottle of beer. Are you the man who
+was brought here by a Mr. Benson on a certain occasion?"
+
+"I am, sir, and it was a nasty job, too. I'm glad someone has taken the
+place. It's a nice property, but the garden has gone to wrack and ruin
+since poor Mr. Garth went. Just look at them dandelions, growin' where
+there used to be a bed of the finest begonias I've ever seen! 'Begonia
+Smith' was the gardener's nickname for miles around. And convolvulus
+instead of sweet peas! It's a sin, that's what it is!"
+
+The policeman, clearly an enthusiast, took off his helmet, and wiped his
+forehead with a purple pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"You knew Mr. Garth, I suppose?" said Armathwaite, strolling towards the
+dandelions, whose vigorous growth was so offensive to the horticultural
+eye. The other went with him, little thinking he was being headed off a
+scent which might lead to a greater tragedy than the devastation of a
+once well-kept garden.
+
+"Knew him well, sir. A very pleasant-spoken gentleman he was, an' all. I
+brought him a party of plow stots one day--men who dance in the villages
+at Martinmas, sir--and he was as pleased as Punch because they sang some
+old verses he'd never heard before. The last man in the world I'd ever
+have thought of to kill himself."
+
+"There was no doubt that he committed suicide?"
+
+"No, sir, that there wasn't. He'd been dead two days when I cut him
+down. Well, no need to talk of it now, but even the doctor was rattled,
+though the weather was very hot that June."
+
+Armathwaite felt as if he had been conjured by some spiteful necromancer
+out of a smiling and sunlit English countryside into a realm of ghouls
+and poison-growths. A minute ago a charming and sweet-spoken girl had
+been chatting glibly about her father's wanderings in the by-ways of
+folk-lore, and now this stolid policeman was hinting at the gruesomeness
+of his task when called on to release the lifeless body of that same man
+from its dolorous perch beside the clock.
+
+For an instant he lost himself, and fixed such a penetrating glance on
+the constable that the latter grew uneasy, lest he had said something he
+ought not to have said. Armathwaite realized the mistake at once, and
+dropped those searching eyes from the other's anxious face to some
+scraps of ribbon sewn on the left breast of the dark blue tunic.
+
+"You have the Tirah medal, I see," he said. "Were you at Dargai?"
+
+The question achieved the immediate effect counted on.
+
+"I was, an' all, sir," and the ex-soldier squared his shoulders. "Though
+no Scottie, I was in the Gordon Highlanders. Were you there, sir?"
+
+"I--er--yes, but as a non-combatant. I was in the Politicals--quite a
+youngster in those days, and I was fool enough to envy you that rush
+across the plateau."
+
+"It was warm work while it lasted, sir."
+
+"There have been few things to equal it in warfare. What time do you
+pass through the village on Monday?"
+
+"Shortly after eleven, sir."
+
+"If you see a light, come in. If not, look me up next Thursday. If I'm
+fishing, I'll leave word with Mrs. Jackson that you're to have a
+refresher should you be that way inclined."
+
+"Thank you, sir. My name's Leadbitter, if ever you should want me."
+
+"And a jolly good name, too, for a man who fought against the Afridis.
+By the way, can you tell me what time the post leaves here?"
+
+"A rural postman calls at Thompson's shop for letters about half-past
+four, sir."
+
+A cigar changed hands, and P. C. Leadbitter strode off, holding his head
+high. It was a red-letter day. He had met one who knew what the storming
+of the Dargai Pass meant. Even the memories of Stephen Garth pendant
+from a hook beneath the china shelf faded into the mists of a country
+policeman's humdrum routine. He was halfway to Bellerby when he
+remembered that he had not done the one thing he meant doing--he had not
+asked Mr. Armathwaite's intentions with regard to the garden. Begonia
+Smith had retired to a village lying between Bellerby and Nuttonby.
+Though too old to take a new situation, he would jump at the chance of
+setting his beloved Grange garden in order again, and, of course, he was
+just the man for the job. Leadbitter believed in doing a good turn when
+opportunity offered. After tea, he went in search of Smith of the order
+Begoniaceae. To save half a mile of a three miles' tramp by road, he
+passed through the estate of Sir Berkeley Hutton, and met that
+redoubtable baronet himself strolling forth to see how the partridges
+were coming on.
+
+"Ha!" cried Hutton, knowing that his land was not in the policeman's
+district, "has that rascally herd of mine been gettin' full again?"
+
+"No, Sir Berkeley, Jim's keepin' steady these days," was the answer.
+"There's a new tenant at the Grange, Elmdale; he'll be wantin' a
+gardener, I'm thinkin', so I'm going to put Begonia Smith on his
+track."
+
+"A new tenant! You don't tell me. What's his name?"
+
+"A Mr. Robert Armathwaite, Sir Berkeley. A very nice gentleman, too.
+Been in India, in the Politicals, he said. I didn't quite know what he
+meant----"
+
+"But I do, by Jove, and a decent lot of chaps they are. Picked men, all
+of 'em. I must look him up. I haven't met anyone of that name, but we're
+sure to own scores of friends in common. Glad I met you, Leadbitter.
+I'll drive over there some day soon. Armathwaite, you say? Sounds like
+an old Yorkshire name, but it's new to me. The coveys are strong on the
+wing this year, eh?"
+
+So, all unwittingly so far as Armathwaite was concerned, his recognition
+of an Indian Frontier ribbon had set in motion strange forces, as a
+pebble falling from an Alpine summit can start an avalanche. In truth,
+he had not yet grasped the essential fact that residents in a secluded
+district of Yorkshire, or in any similar section of the United Kingdom,
+were close knit throughout astonishingly large areas. He had belonged to
+a ruling caste among an inferior race during so many active years that
+he still retained the habits of thought generated by knowledge of local
+conditions in India, where a town like Nuttonby would have little in
+common with a hamlet like Elmdale, whereas, in Yorkshire, Nuttonby knew
+the affairs of Elmdale almost as intimately as its own.
+
+But enlightenment on this point, and on many others, was coming
+speedily. He received the first sharp lesson within a few hours.
+
+Marguérite Ogilvey might be a most industrious young lady when
+circumstances were favorable, but she had so many questions to put, and
+so much local news to absorb from Mrs. Jackson and Betty, that the
+morning slipped by without any material progress being made in the
+avowed object of her visit.
+
+Armathwaite, piling rows of books on the library floor, noticed that the
+collection of seven, ranging from a Sheffield cake-basket to a Baxter
+print, had not been added to. The girl wanted to know, of course, why
+Leadbitter came, and was told, though his references to the disheveled
+state of the garden were suppressed. Then she volunteered to help in
+disposing of the new lot of books, but her services were peremptorily
+declined.
+
+"You're a grumpy sort of cousin at times, Bob," she cried, and betook
+herself to the scullery and more entertaining company. She had been
+chatting there an hour, or longer, when she wheeled round on Mrs.
+Jackson with an astonished cry.
+
+"I've been here all the morning, and you've never said a word about my
+father and mother," she declared. "They're quite well, thank you; but
+you might have inquired."
+
+"Well, there!" stammered Mrs. Jackson, "It was on the tip of me tongue
+half a dozen times, an' something drove it away again. An' how are they,
+Miss Meg?"
+
+"I've just told you. I do wish they'd come back to the Grange, but they
+seem to hate the very mention of it. I wonder why?"
+
+"Elmdale's a long way frae Lunnon," said Betty, catching at a straw in
+this sudden whirlpool.
+
+"We're just as far from London in Cornwall," laughed the girl.
+
+"Oh, is that where you've gone?" put in Mrs. Jackson incautiously.
+
+"Yes. Didn't you know? Hadn't you the address for letters?"
+
+"No, miss. Miggles said"--Miggles was the peripatetic postman--"that all
+letters had to be sent to Holloway & Dobb, in Nuttonby."
+
+Marguérite looked rather puzzled, because her recollection ran
+differently; she dropped the subject, thinking, doubtless, that her
+parents' behests had some good reason behind them, and ought to be
+respected.
+
+"Anyhow," she went on, "now that I've broken the ice by coming here, my
+people may be willing to return. I don't suppose Mr. Armathwaite will
+stay beyond the summer."
+
+"Mr. Walker tole me he thought of takin' the place for a year," said
+Mrs. Jackson.
+
+"Indeed. I'll ask him at lunch. I've wasted the morning, so I'll stay
+another night, and start early to-morrow. You'll find me a bed in the
+cottage, won't you, Mrs. Jackson?"
+
+"Mebbe, Mr. Armathwaite will be vexed," said Betty, making a
+half-hearted effort to carry out the compact between herself and her
+employer.
+
+"Leave Mr. Armathwaite to me," laughed Marguérite. "He's a bear, and he
+growls, but he has no claws, not for women, at any rate. No one could be
+nicer than he last night. I felt an awful fool, and looked it, too; but
+he didn't say a single word to cause me any embarrassment. Moreover, he
+intends crossing the moor with me, and I can't let him get lost in the
+dark. Men have died who were lost on that moor."
+
+"Oh, but that's in the winter, miss, when the snow's deep," said Betty.
+
+"Why, I do believe you want to get rid of me!" cried the other.
+
+Betty flushed guiltily. She was floundering in deep waters, and struck
+out blindly.
+
+"Oh, no, miss," she vowed. "You know me better than that. P'raps you'll
+be gettin' married one of these days, an' then you can please yourself,
+an' live here."
+
+"Married! Me get married, and leave dad and mums! Oh, dear no! One young
+man has asked me already, and I--"
+
+"Betty," said a voice from the doorway leading to the hall, "can you
+give me a duster?"
+
+The conclave started apart, like so many disturbed sparrows; but
+Armathwaite could make a shrewd guess as to the name of the "one young
+man," since he had Marguérite Ogilvey's own testimony for it that Percy
+Whittaker would "do anything" to oblige her, and what more likely than
+that such devotion should lead to matrimony?
+
+At luncheon he received with frigidity the girl's statement that she
+planned remaining in Elmdale till the morrow.
+
+"There's really no reason to hurry," she said airily. "The Whittakers
+know where I am, and I'll send a postcard saying I'll be with them
+Friday evening."
+
+"I must remind you that every hour you prolong your visit you add to the
+risk of discovery," he said.
+
+"Discovery of what, or by whom?" she demanded.
+
+"I am only endeavoring to fall in with your own wishes. You came here
+secretly. You took pains to prevent anyone from recognizing you. Have
+you changed your mind?"
+
+"I--I think I have. You see, your being here makes a heap of
+difference."
+
+"Precisely. You ought to get away all the sooner."
+
+"First Betty--now you! I must indeed be an unwelcome guest in my
+father's house. Of course, I can't possibly stay now. There's a train
+from Leyburn at seven o'clock. I can catch it by leaving here at three,
+but I shan't start unless I go alone."
+
+She looked prettier than ever when her brown eyes sparkled with anger,
+but Armathwaite hardened his heart because of the grim shadow which she
+could not see but which was hourly becoming more visible to him.
+
+"Is Leyburn the station on the other side of the moor?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you will remain here three weary months, Meg."
+
+"I don't pretend to understand," she cried wrathfully.
+
+"I've paid three months' rent, and here I shall stay if a regiment of
+girls and a whole army of Percy Whittakers try to eject me. As I am
+equally resolved not to allow you to cross the moor unaccompanied, you
+will readily perceive the only logical outcome of your own decision."
+
+The brown eyes lost their fire, but acquired another sort of sheen.
+
+"What has happened that you should speak so unkindly?" she quavered.
+"Last night and this morning you--you--didn't order me out. And I don't
+see why you should drag in Percy Whittaker. I only borrowed his togs."
+
+Many times in the history of this gray old world have woman's tears
+pierced armor and sapped fortresses. This hapless man yielded at once.
+
+"Confound it, Miss Ogilvey, I'd keep you here during the remainder of my
+days if I could arrange matters to my own liking and yours," he blurted
+out.
+
+She recovered her self-possession with amazing readiness.
+
+"Now, Bob, you're talking nonsense," she tittered. "Aren't we making
+mountains out of molehills? I have lots to do, and hate being rushed. I
+can stay with Mrs. Jackson to-night, and you and I will set out for
+Leyburn early to-morrow. Then, if you don't care to face the return
+journey, you shall take train to Nuttonby and drive here. Isn't that a
+good plan?"
+
+"We must adopt it, at any rate," he said grudgingly. "But you promise
+to remain hidden all day?"
+
+"Yes, even that. Now, let's stop squabbling, and eat. Tell me something
+about India. It must be an awfully jolly place. If I went there, should
+I be a mem-sahib?"
+
+"It is highly probable."
+
+"What a funny way to put it! Aren't all English ladies in India
+mem-sahibs?"
+
+"The married ones are. The spinsters are miss-sahibs."
+
+She laughed delightedly, and without any sense of awkwardness because of
+her own blunder.
+
+"Naturally they would be. That's rather neat when you come to think of
+it," she cried.
+
+Old jokes are ever new in someone's ears, or no comic paper could live
+beyond a year. When Betty came in with a gooseberry tart and cream, she
+heard the two calling each other "Bob" and "Meg," and reported thereon
+in the kitchen.
+
+"It seems to me she's larnt summat (something) i' Cornwall," commented
+Mrs. Jackson.
+
+"And him old enough to be her father!" marveled Betty.
+
+"Fiddlesticks! It's the life he's led that's aged him. He's not a day
+more'n thirty-five."
+
+Mrs. Jackson was no bad judge. Her employer was in his thirty-sixth
+year.
+
+After luncheon, Marguérite Ogilvey collected her treasures, and, with
+Betty's help, packed them in boxes obtained at the village shop. Before
+tea, she wrote a letter, which Armathwaite took to the post. While
+there, he inquired about the fishing, and the grocer pointed out a very
+tall and stoutly-built man stacking hay at the bottom of a long field.
+
+"That's Mr. Burt," he said. "He owns a mile or more of the best water.
+If you were to go an' see him now, sir, you could settle things straight
+off."
+
+"But I want to have a word with Miggles."
+
+"He'll be here in ten minutes, sir, an' I'll tell him to give you a
+hail. The Nuttonby road passes the end of that field."
+
+Matters seemed to be arranged conveniently; as, indeed, they were, if
+sprites were laying snares for Robert Armathwaite's feet.
+
+He met Farmer Burt, and was given all fishing facilities at once. Nay,
+more, if this weather lasted, as was likely, and all the hay was saved
+by sunset, Burt himself would call next day, and reveal the lie of the
+land.
+
+"Make it Saturday," said Armathwaite, mindful of another fixture.
+
+"Right you are, sir!"
+
+Someone shouted. It was Miggles, breast-high beyond a hedge. At that
+instant Armathwaite caught sight of a dog-cart swinging into Elmdale. A
+gallant figure at the reins seemed somehow familiar. Therefore, instead
+of describing the kind of bath he wished Tom Bland to bring from an
+ironmonger's, he said sharply to the postman:
+
+"Who is that in the dog-cart?"
+
+"Young Mr. Walker, o' Nuttonby, sir," was the answer.
+
+James Walker! The man whom Marguérite Ogilvey said she hated, and such a
+phrase on a girl's lips with reference to a man like Walker almost
+invariably means that she has been pestered by his attentions. The
+Grange was nearly a mile distant, and Walker was now dashing through the
+village street.
+
+"Damn!" said Armathwaite, making off at top speed.
+
+Miggles gazed after him.
+
+"Rum houses draws rum coves," he said, trudging away on his daily round.
+"Not that he's the first who's damned young Jimmy Walker, not by a jolly
+long way!"
+
+Evidently, an Aristotelian postman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE STORM BREAKS
+
+
+Armathwaite's face, as he strode through Elmdale, was hardly that of a
+man who had found there the quiet and solitude he had stipulated for
+when in treaty with Walker & Son. Its stern and harassed aspect was seen
+and commented on by a score of people. Though most of the inhabitants
+were busy in the fields, there were watchers in plenty peering from each
+farm and cottage. Already the village held in common the scanty stock of
+information possessed by the Jacksons concerning the Grange's new
+tenant, because mother and daughter were far too shrewd to provoke
+discussion by withholding the facts stated by the house agent. They knew
+that every urchin who could toddle had peeped through gate and hedges
+that morning; they were more alive than Armathwaite himself to the risk
+Miss Meg ran of being seen if she went outside the house, front or back,
+for ten seconds. The best way to disarm gossip was to answer as best
+they might the four questions put by every inquirer: Who is he? Where
+does he come from? Is he married? How long will he stop?
+
+Singularly enough, in a land of variable weather, Elmdale at this time
+was bathed in brilliant sunshine from morn till eve. The ripening crops,
+the green uplands, the moor, with its gorse just fading and its heather
+showing the first faint flush of purple, were steeped in the "great
+peacefulness of light" so dear to Ruskin. If one searched the earth it
+would be hard to find a nook where sorrow and evil were less likely to
+dree their weird; yet, Armathwaite expected to meet those grim sisters
+stalking through the ancient house when he saw an empty dog-cart and an
+open door; he seldom erred in such forecasts, and his divination was not
+at fault now.
+
+As he entered the hall, he heard the girl's voice, clear and crisp and
+scornful.
+
+"How dare you say such things to me! How dare you! My father is alive
+and well. If he were here now----"
+
+James Walker chuckled.
+
+"Tell that to the Marines," he began. The remainder of the sentence died
+on his lips when Armathwaite's tall form appeared in the doorway.
+
+"You here, Mr. Walker?" said the Anglo-Indian calmly. Then, noting
+Marguérite Ogilvey's white face and distraught eyes, he assumed a
+mystified air, and cried:
+
+"Hullo, Meg, what's gone wrong?"
+
+She flew to him instantly, clasping his arm, and the confident touch of
+her fingers thrilled him to the core.
+
+"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad you've come back," she almost sobbed. "That--that
+nasty little man has been telling such horrid fibs. He says--he
+says--Oh, Bob, won't you send him away?"
+
+At that moment the mental equilibrium of James Walker, junior (his
+father was also James) was badly shaken. It oscillated violently in one
+direction when he noted the manner of address these two adopted the one
+to the other. It swung to another extreme on hearing himself described
+as "a nasty little man" by a girl for whom a long-dormant calf love had
+quickened in his veins when Tom Bland announced that "Meg Garth, or her
+ghost," was at the Grange that day. It positively wobbled when
+Armathwaite threw a protecting arm round the desired one's shoulders. So
+he listened, open-mouthed, when Armathwaite spoke.
+
+"Sorry I wasn't at home, Meg, dear, when Mr. Walker arrived--or he
+wouldn't have troubled you," the mysterious stranger was saying. There
+was an unpleasant glint in the steely glance that accompanied the next
+words:
+
+"Now, Mr. Walker, come outside, and explain your business."
+
+But Walker was no country bumpkin, to be overawed and silenced by a man
+of superior social status. He was puzzled, and stung, stung beyond hope
+of cure. Yet he was not afraid. Certain qualities of sharpness and
+cuteness warned him that if he controlled his temper, and did not
+bluster, he held the whip hand in a situation of which the true
+inwardness was still hidden.
+
+"My business is not with you, Mr. Armathwaite," he said, with the utmost
+civility his tongue was capable of. "I heard of Miss Garth's arrival,
+and came to see her. It's not my fault if she's vexed at what I've said.
+I meant no offense. I only told the truth."
+
+"I have reason to believe that you forced yourself into Miss Garth's
+presence;" and, in repeating the name, Armathwaite pressed the girl's
+shoulder gently as an intimation that no good purpose would be served by
+any correction in that respect. "Again, and for the last time, I request
+you to leave her."
+
+"There's no last time about it," said Walker, who was watching
+Marguérite's wan and terror-stricken face. "I had a perfect right to
+call on Meg Garth. She daren't pretend she doesn't know me, and a false
+name can't humbug me, or Tom Bland, for that matter."
+
+"I know you only too well," broke in the girl with a vehemence that
+brought a momentary rush of color to her cheeks. "You annoyed me for two
+years, and I'm sorry now I didn't complain to my father about your
+ridiculous oglings and shilling boxes of chocolates, which I gave to the
+village children."
+
+She struck harder than she knew. Walker bridled like an annoyed
+turkey-cock. Armathwaite pressed Marguérite's shoulder a second time,
+and withdrew his hand.
+
+"If your ungracious admirer won't leave you, Meg, you had better leave
+him," he said, smiling into her woebegone face. "Go into the
+drawing-room, or join Mrs. Jackson. _I'll_ deal with Mr. Walker."
+
+He held the door open, purposely blotting Walker out of sight, and the
+girl obeyed. She went out bravely enough, but he caught a smothered sob
+as she passed towards the kitchen. There also, he was bitterly aware,
+danger lurked in other guise, though the two well-disposed women might
+perchance have the wit to discredit Walker's revelations, whatever they
+were.
+
+Closing the door, which swung half open again without his knowledge, he
+turned an inquiring and most unfriendly eye on the unwanted visitor.
+
+"I hope you are ashamed of yourself," he said quietly.
+
+If Walker had understood mankind better, he would not have
+misinterpreted that suave utterance by imagining, as he did, that it
+betokened fear of exposure. Unhappily, he strutted, and slapped a
+gaitered leg with a switch he carried in place of a whip.
+
+"Ashamed of nothing," he answered truculently. "I admit being sweet on
+the girl. What is there to be ashamed of in that, I'd like to know?"
+
+"It's distinctly to your credit, in some ways," said Armathwaite. "I
+should have expected your tastes to run rather to barmaids, with an
+ultimate vote in favor of the daughter of a well-to-do butcher. I
+dislike class distinctions, Walker. Too often they savor of snobbery;
+but, in this instance, I am obliged to remind you that my cousin is a
+lady."
+
+"Oh, is that it? Cousins, are you? I wish you'd told me sooner."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It might have saved this bit of bother, anyhow."
+
+"I don't think that any well-meant explanations on my part could cure
+you of an impertinent nature, Walker."
+
+"Dash it all, Mr. Armathwaite, why couldn't I visit Meg? I've seen and
+spoken to her scores of times."
+
+"But, even in Nuttonby, one does not thrust one's presence on a lady
+uninvited."
+
+Walker laughed. He could stand any amount of reproof as to his manners,
+because he rather prided himself on a swaggering disregard of other
+people's feelings.
+
+"We don't stand on ceremony in Yorkshire," he said jauntily. "I opened
+the door, and actually heard her voice. There was no sense in Betty
+Jackson sayin' Miss Garth wasn't here, and I told her so pretty plainly.
+Then, out she came. What would you have done, in my shoes? Now, I ask
+you, sir, as man to man."
+
+"I would have striven not to insult her so grossly that she should be
+moved to tears."
+
+"But I didn't. Don't you believe it. I was pleasant as could be. She
+behaved like a regular little spit-fire. Turned on me as though she'd
+been waitin' for the chance. I can stand a lot, but I'm jiggered if I'd
+let her tell me she'd complain to her father, and have him take away the
+agency of the property from our firm, when her father is buried these
+two years in Bellerby churchyard. Why, she must think I'm dotty."
+
+Armathwaite moistened his lips with his tongue.
+
+"You enlightened her ignorance, I presume?" he inquired blandly.
+
+"I didn't know what she was gettin' at, but I asked her plump and plain
+who the 'Stephen Garth' was who hanged himself in this very house, and
+has his name and the date of his death on the stone over his grave....
+It strikes me that even you don't know the facts, Mr. Armathwaite. If
+her father is alive, who was the man who committed suicide?... And, by
+jing, _did_ he commit suicide?"
+
+James Walker's theorizing ended suddenly.
+
+"You poisonous little rat!" murmured Armathwaite, and seized him. Walker
+was young and active, and by no means a weakling or cowardly, but he
+resembled a jackal in the grip of a tiger when the hands closed on him
+which had choked the life out of Nas'r-ulla Khan, chief cut-throat of
+the Usman Khel. There was no struggle. He was flung face downwards on
+the table until the door was thrown wide. Then he was bundled neck and
+crop out of the house, and kicked along the twenty yards of curving path
+to the gate.
+
+There Armathwaite released him, a limp and profane object.
+
+"Now, go to Nuttonby, and stop there!" was the parting injunction he
+received. His bitterest humiliation lay in the knowledge that Marguérite
+Garth and Betty Jackson, hearing the racket, had rushed to hall and
+door, and were gloating over his discomfiture. A drop of bitterest gall
+was added by his assailant's subsequent behavior, for Armathwaite turned
+his back on him, and sauntered slowly to the house, seemingly quite
+assured that there would be no counter-attack. And, indeed, James Walker
+retained sufficient sense in his frenzied brain to realize that he had
+no earthly chance in a physical struggle with this demon of a man. So he
+climbed into the dog-cart, though not with his wonted agility, and drove
+away to Nuttonby without ever a backward glance.
+
+But he vowed vengeance, vowed it with all the intensity of a mean and
+stubborn nature. He had visions, at first, of a successful action for
+assault and battery; but, as his rage moderated, he saw certain
+difficulties in the way. His only witnesses would be hostile, and it was
+even questionable if a bench of magistrates would convict Armathwaite
+when it was shown that he, Walker, had virtually forced an entry into
+the house, and refused to leave when requested.
+
+But he could strike more subtly and vindictively through the
+authorities. Marguérite Garth had said that Stephen Garth was living,
+and Robert Armathwaite--that compound of iron knuckles and whip-cord
+muscles--had tacitly endorsed the statement. If that was true, who was
+the man buried in Stephen Garth's name and identity in the churchyard at
+Bellerby? He had a vague recollection of some difference of opinion
+between the coroner and a doctor at the inquest. He must refresh his
+memory by consulting a file of the _Nuttonby Gazette_. In any event, he
+could stir a hornets' nest into furious activity and search the
+innermost recesses of the Grange with anguish-laden darts. Curse Meg
+Garth and her cousin! He'd teach both of 'em, that he would! If they
+thought that James Walker was done with because he had been flouted and
+ill-used, they were jolly well mistaken, see if they weren't!
+
+Marguérite Ogilvey was as tender-hearted a girl as ever breathed, but it
+needed super-human qualities--qualities that no woman could possibly
+possess and have red blood in her veins--to restrain the fierce joy
+which thrilled her being when she saw her persecutor driven forth with
+contumely. Betty Jackson, the village maid, was delighted but shocked;
+Marguérite, the educated and well-bred young lady, rejoiced candidly.
+
+"You've done just what I would have done if I were a strong man like
+you!" she cried tremulously, when Armathwaite faced her at the door.
+There was a light in her eyes which he gave no heed to at the
+moment--the light which comes into the eyes of woman when she is
+defended by her chosen mate--but he attributed it to excitement, and
+hastened to calm her.
+
+"I may have acted rashly," he said; "but I couldn't help it. Sometimes,
+one has to take the law into one's own hands. Surely, this is one of the
+occasions."
+
+"He'll keep clear of Elmdale for a bit," chortled Betty. "P'raps he
+thinks no one saw you kickin' him except ourselves. He's wrong! Half the
+village knows it! Old Mrs. Bolland nearly fell out of an upstairs window
+with cranin' her neck to see what was goin' on, an' there's little
+Johnnie Headlam runnin' down the ten-acre field now to tell Mr. Burt an'
+his men all about it."
+
+The girl had thoughtlessly blurted out a fact of far-reaching import.
+Armathwaite swung on his heel, and found gaping faces at every cottage
+backwindow, and above every hedge. Sleepy Elmdale had waked. Its usually
+deserted street was pullulating with child life. The sharp Walkers were
+somewhat too sharp on the land agency side of their business, and were
+cordially hated in consequence. The bouncing of Walker, junior, had not
+made him popular; his trouncing would provide a joyous epic for many a
+day. As for Marguérite Ogilvey's presence in the house, it was known far
+and wide already. She had been recognized by dozens of people. Elmdale,
+which might have figured as Goldsmith's deserted village five minutes
+earlier, was now a thriving place, all eyes and cackling tongues.
+
+Armathwaite had lost sight of that highly probable outcome of his
+action, nor did it trouble him greatly. The major happening, which he
+had striven so valiantly to avert, had come about through no fault of
+his; these minor issues were trivial and might be disregarded. In an
+earthquake the crumbling of a few bricks more or less is a matter of
+small account. He knew that when Marguérite Ogilvey had almost forgotten
+the downfall of Walker she would remember its immediate cause the more
+poignantly.
+
+"Hadn't we better go indoors till the weather is cooler?" he said, and
+the sound of his calm voice, no less than the smile he managed to summon
+in aid, relaxed the tension.
+
+"Please, miss, shall I make a fresh pot of tea?" inquired Betty when the
+door was closed. There spoke the true Yorkshire breed. Let the heavens
+fall, but don't miss a meal.
+
+"No," said Marguérite, holding her open hands pressed close to eyes and
+cheeks.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite--"that is, if Miss Meg has not had her tea."
+
+Betty nodded, and hastened into the drawing-room, where, it appeared,
+tea was awaiting Armathwaite's return when Walker arrived on the scene.
+She emerged, carrying a tea-pot, and went to the kitchen. Marguérite was
+now crying silently. When the man caught her arm, meaning to lead her
+gently into the drawing-room, she broke into a very tempest of weeping,
+just as a child yields to an abandonment of grief when most assured of
+sympathy and protection.
+
+He took her to a chair, but did not attempt to pacify her. For one
+thing, he had a man's belief that a woman's hyper-sensitive nervous
+system may find benefit in what is known as "a good cry;" for another,
+he was not sorry to have a brief respite during which to collect and
+criticize his own ideas. He did not even try to conceal from himself the
+ugly fact that James Walker had put into one or two sentences of
+concentrated venom all that was known to him (Armathwaite) concerning
+the death in the house, and even a little more, because he had not
+learnt previously that Stephen Garth was buried at Bellerby. Nor did he
+permit himself to under-rate Marguérite's intelligence. Her heedless
+vivacity, and the occasional use of school-girl slang in her speech,
+were the mere externals of a thoughtful and well-stored mind. There was
+not the least chance that she would miss any phase of the tragedy which
+had puzzled and almost bewildered him by its vagueness and mystery. She
+would recall his own perplexed questions of the previous night. In all
+likelihood the Jacksons, mother and daughter, had said things which
+fuller knowledge would clothe with sinister significance. Walker's
+open-mouthed brutality had left nothing to the imagination. When
+Marguérite Ogilvey spoke, Armathwaite felt that he would be called on to
+deal with the most difficult problem he had ever tackled.
+
+When Betty came with a replenished tea-pot she would have attempted to
+soothe the girl's convulsive sobbing had not Armathwaite intervened.
+
+"Leave Miss Meg to me," he said. "She's going to stop crying in a
+minute, and vow that she looks a perfect fright, and must really go to
+her room and bathe her eyes. And I'm going to tell her that a
+handkerchief dipped in a teaspoonful of milk and dabbed on red eyes is
+more refreshing and healing than a bucketful of cold water. Then we'll
+have tea, and eke a stroll on the moor, and perchance Providence will
+send us a quiet hour in which to look at facts squarely in the face,
+whereupon some of us will know just where we are, and the world will not
+be quite so topsy-turvy as it appears at this moment."
+
+Betty gathered that the "master's" harangue was not meant for her, and
+withdrew, whereupon Marguérite dropped her hands and lifted her swimming
+eyes to Armathwaite's grave and kindly face.
+
+"Is that milk recipe of yours really intended for use?" she inquired,
+with a piteous attempt at a smile.
+
+"The whole program has been carefully planned on the most up-to-date and
+utilitarian lines," he answered.
+
+"Did you hurt Walker?" was her next rather unexpected question, while
+pouring some milk into a saucer.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'm glad."
+
+"How many boxes of chocolates did he send you?"
+
+"About half a dozen."
+
+"Then I kicked him at least once for each box--gave good measure, too."
+
+"It's horrid and un-Christian--still, I'm glad. Do you take sugar and
+cream?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Why of course? Some people don't."
+
+"I'm an emphatic person in my likes and dislikes, so I talk that way."
+
+"I don't know what I should have done if you were not here."
+
+"You are too charitable. It is my being here that has caused all the
+worry."
+
+"No, I cannot take that view. There are happenings in life which, at the
+hour, seem to be the outcome of mere chance, but one realizes later that
+they were inevitable as autumn after spring."
+
+"What a libel on our English climate," he laughed. "Is there no summer,
+then? What about this present glorious revel of sunshine? Charles the
+Second, who never said a foolish thing and never did a wise one,
+remarked one day that, in his opinion, England possessed the best
+climate in the world, because no day was too hot or too cold to prevent
+a man from going out of doors. I've seen more of the world,
+geographically speaking, than his kingship, yet I agree with him."
+
+"My father----" she began, but choked suddenly.
+
+"Tell me this, Meg: how long is it since you last saw your father?" he
+demanded, well knowing the futility of any attempt to divert her mind
+from a topic which must surely occupy it to the exclusion of all else.
+
+"Just a week ago," she faltered.
+
+"Good! I need not insist, then, that our young friend in the red
+waistcoat is mistaken when he says that your father occupies a grave in
+Bellerby churchyard! Of course, I'm not pretending that you and I are
+not faced with a strange problem. With your permission, I propose that
+we solve it together. I'll keep nothing back. You, on your part, must
+answer such questions as I think necessary--unless, that is, you feel I
+am trespassing unduly into the private affairs of your family. I'm not
+well posted in the turns and twists of English country life, but I am
+quite certain of two things--first, the mystery attached to this house
+must be dissipated now, because the police authorities will insist on
+it; second, if they beat me, and you suffer, they'll have achieved
+something that no set of officials has succeeded in doing hitherto. Now,
+I want you to believe that, and to act in the assumption that God is in
+heaven, and all is well with the world."
+
+The girl smiled through her tears, and strove gallantly to eat one of
+the cheese-cakes for which Mrs. Jackson was renowned.
+
+"Bob," she said, after a little while, "will you tell me why you came to
+Elmdale?"
+
+"I wanted peace and solitude, plus some trout-fishing."
+
+"Yet you speak of engaging in some terrible combat against the law on my
+account."
+
+"Aren't you rather jumping at conclusions? Circumstances have conspired
+to build a bogey. A ghost which all Elmdale has seen in the hall
+resolves itself, on inquiry, into a shadow cast by a stained-glass
+window. Certain murderous-sounding thumps which I heard last night
+materialize into a charming young lady. Why shouldn't a death which took
+place in this house two years since prove equally susceptible of a
+simple explanation? No, we're not going to convert ourselves into a
+committee of two until you have taken one more cup of tea, one more
+cake, or two slices of bread and butter. Then you'll put on a hat, and
+I'll light a pipe, and we'll climb up to the moor. On the way I'll
+impart every scrap of information I've gathered thus far, and, when you
+have considered the situation in such light as I am able to cast on it,
+you will decide whether or not you are justified in telling me something
+of your recent history. Is it a bargain?"
+
+Armathwaite was only talking for the sake of keeping the girl's mind
+from brooding on the extraordinary facts thrust on her by Walker. He was
+sure she would treat a phenomenal set of affairs more rationally if she
+heard the story from his own lips. He would have liked, if possible, to
+have glanced over the report of the inquest in the newspaper promised by
+Betty, but decided that Marguérite Ogilvey must not be left to her own
+thoughts one instant longer than was absolutely necessary.
+
+Examination of the newspaper was deferred, therefore. When the girl ran
+downstairs to join him she had tied some scrap of blue veil over her hat
+in such wise that her face was screened in profile, so, as they breasted
+the hill together, he could hardly judge of the effect of the curious
+story he had to relate. He omitted nothing, minimized no detail. From
+the moment of his entry into the office of Walker & Son, at Nuttonby, he
+gave a full and lucid narrative. Rather losing sight of his own altruism
+in his eagerness to show how essential it was that they should meet
+attack with the confidence engendered by being prepared for all possible
+developments, he was not aware of the wondering glances which Marguérite
+shot at him with increasing frequency.
+
+At last, he made an end. They had walked a mile or more, he talking
+steadily and the girl listening, only interposing a word now and again
+to show that she followed what he was saying, when he saw a man seated
+by the roadside at a little distance. The road dipped sharply at this
+point. They had crossed the first of a series of undulations which
+formed the great plateau of the moor, and Elmdale and its pastures were
+completely hidden.
+
+"Shall we turn back?" he said. "This fellow in front looks like a weary
+tourist, but I fancy you don't want to meet anyone just now, and I
+haven't noticed a branch path through the heather."
+
+Marguérite was gazing curiously at the bent figure. Her eyes held the
+expression of one who sees something familiar while the other senses
+refuse to be convinced. Armathwaite, by reason of the veil, could not
+see that half-startled, wholly skeptical look, but her attitude was
+enough.
+
+"Do you think you know that chap?" he said.
+
+Perhaps, in that quiet moorland, his voice carried farther than he
+imagined. Be that as it may, the tired one raised his drooping head, and
+looked their way.
+
+"Why, it is--it must be!" cried Marguérite excitedly, though no man
+could guess whether she was pleased or annoyed.
+
+"There can be no doubt about it," agreed Armathwaite.
+
+"But, don't you see, he's waving to us? It's Percy Whittaker! Has he
+dropped from the skies?"
+
+"With a bump, I should guess," said Armathwaite.
+
+But inwardly he raged. Were these complications never to cease? That
+dejected figure was eloquent of fate. Somehow, its worn and nerveless
+aspect was menacing.
+
+Yet, he laughed, being one who flaunted fortune in that way.
+
+"If it really is Percy, let's go and cheer him up," he said. "He looks
+as though he needed comforting."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A FAINT-HEARTED ALLY
+
+
+That moment was a vital one in the lives of those two; it influenced the
+lives of others in lesser degree, but to Marguérite Ogilvey and Robert
+Armathwaite it meant so much that the man, in calm review of events
+subsequently, saw that it stood out from minor incidents in exactly the
+same dominant proportion as James Walker's hurried descent on Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage on the preceding day.
+
+Had Walker remained in the dog-cart, and shouted for the keys of the
+Grange, Mrs. Jackson would have contrived, by hook or by crook, to delay
+the examination of the house until Betty had smuggled "Miss Meg" into
+safety, in which case Armathwaite would never have met her. And, now, if
+the girl had quickened her pace--in eager delight, perhaps, breaking
+into a run--had she, either by voice or manner, shown that the
+unforeseen presence of Percy Whittaker on the moor was not only an
+extraordinary event in itself, but one which she hailed with unmitigated
+joy, Armathwaite would assuredly have stifled certain vague whisperings
+of imagination which, ere long, might exercise a disastrous influence on
+the theory he held in common with a well-known British general--namely,
+that empire-builders should not be married. But she stood stock still,
+and, without turning her head so that Armathwaite might see her face,
+said quietly:
+
+"Well, it is the unexpected that happens, and the last person I dreamed
+of seeing to-day was Master Percy."
+
+"Are you sure it _is_ Whittaker?" inquired Armathwaite.
+
+He put the question merely for the sake of saying something banal and
+commonplace. Not for an instant did he doubt the accuracy of
+Marguérite's clear brown eyes; but, oddly enough, the behavior of the
+dejected figure by the roadside lent reasonable cause for the implied
+doubt. Never did tired wayfarer look more weary or disconsolate. After
+that first glance, and a listless gesture, the stranger showed no other
+sign of recognition. To all seeming, he had reached the limit of his
+resources, physical and mental.
+
+"Sure?" echoed the girl. "Of course, I'm sure. There's only one Percy,
+and it's there now, beastly fagged after a long walk on a hot day in
+thin patent-leather shoes. Doesn't it remind you of a plucked weed
+drooping in the sunshine?"
+
+She moved on, walking rapidly now, but a slight undertone of annoyance
+had crept into her voice, tinging her humor with sarcasm. Armathwaite
+said nothing. The sun-laved landscape glowed again after a few seconds
+of cold brilliance--a natural phenomenon all the more remarkable
+inasmuch as no cloud flecked the sky.
+
+Thus, in silence, they neared the limp individuality huddled dejectedly
+on a strip of turf by the roadside. To Armathwaite's carefully
+suppressed amusement, he saw that the wanderer was indeed wearing thin,
+patent-leather shoes.
+
+"Percy!" cried the girl.
+
+Percy looked up again. He drew the fore-finger of his right hand around
+the back of his neck between collar and skin, as though his head
+required adjustment in this new position.
+
+"Hallo, Meg!" he said, and the greeting was not only languid but bored.
+
+"What in the world are you doing here?" she went on, halting in front of
+him.
+
+"I dunno," he said. "I'm beastly fagged, I can tell you--"
+
+Armathwaite smiled, but Marguérite laughed outright.
+
+"There's nothing to grin at," came the querulous protest. "Once upon a
+time I labored under the impression that England was a civilized
+country, but now I find it's habitable only in parts, and this isn't one
+of the parts, not by a jolly long way. I say, Meg, you booked to
+Leyburn, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But you never walked over this moor?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Well, I wish I'd known as much about Yorkshire before I started as I do
+now--that's all."
+
+Again he twisted his neck and freed it from the chafing contact of a
+tight collar. After a curious peep at Armathwaite, he bent a pair of
+gray-green eyes on the turf at his feet once more.
+
+"Percy, don't be stupid, but tell me why you've come," cried Marguérite.
+"There's no bad news from home, is there?"
+
+"No--that's all right. Edie sent me."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You said you'd wire or write. When no telegram came yesterday, and no
+letter this morning, she bundled me off by the next train. 'Go and see
+what has become of her?' was the order, and here I am. Where am I,
+please?"
+
+"Near Elmdale. I'm awfully sorry, Percy. I--I couldn't either telegraph
+or write yesterday. I've written to-day--"
+
+"Near Elmdale!" he broke in. "Is it what the natives hereabouts call 'a
+canny bit' away?"
+
+"No--only a little over a mile. Poor Percy!"
+
+"Idiotic Percy! Percy, the silly ass! Percy, the blithering idiot! D'you
+see that suitcase?" and he swayed slightly, and directed a mournful
+glance at a small, leather portmanteau lying by his side. "I've sent
+that dashed thing, packed as it is now, by rail and parcels post scores
+of times, and they generally make it out as weighing about eleven
+pounds. That's a bally mistake. I must have swindled the railway
+companies and the Post Office out of a pot of money. It weighs a
+ton--one solid ton. And I've carried it dozens of miles. Me, mind you,
+who hates carrying things, clung to it as if my life depended on it. I
+started out from Leyburn station hours and hours ago. I asked a chap how
+far it was to Elmdale across the moor. He showed me the road, and said:
+'It's a gay bit, maister.' I climbed a hill at least five miles
+high--higher than any mountain in Europe I can remember reading
+about--and met a man. 'Is this the way to Elmdale?' I inquired. 'Ay,' he
+said. 'How far?' said I. 'It's a nice bit, maister,' said he. Being, as
+I thought, on top of the hill, I imagined that all I had to do was to
+walk down the other side; so I left him and rambled on. After walking
+miles and miles I met another man. 'How far to Elmdale?' I said. 'It's a
+canny bit, maister,' was his contribution. That knocked me out. I left
+him without another word. I staggered more miles, till I got this far;
+but when I saw the next hill I gave in. Tell me the worst, Meg, before I
+lie down and die. How far is it to Elmdale, really?"
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite will carry your suitcase, and I'll take your arm, and
+you'll be at the Grange in twenty minutes. It's all down hill after we
+leave this slight dip."
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite?" inquired Percy dully, quite ignoring the other man's
+courteous smile at the implied introduction.
+
+"Yes, the new tenant of our house."
+
+"First I've heard of any new tenant."
+
+"Nothing surprising in that," and Marguérite's voice grew almost snappy.
+"Get up, anyhow, unless you wish to have a mattress and a quilt brought
+here."
+
+The young man rose. He was not affecting a weariness he did not feel.
+Being a weedy youth, not built for feats of athleticism, the long walk
+in a hot sun over difficult country had taxed his physique unduly.
+
+"How d'ye do?" he said, raising lack-luster eyes to Armathwaite's.
+
+"I'm fit as a fiddle," said Armathwaite cheerfully, grabbing the
+portmanteau. "So will you be to-morrow. In fact, you'll be surprised how
+quickly your muscles will lose their stiffness when you sight the
+journey's end."
+
+"I've been doing that every five minutes during the past two hours," was
+the doleful answer.
+
+Armathwaite nodded sympathetically. Percy Whittaker struck him as a
+flabby creature, whose conversational style was unintentionally funny.
+Like Falstaff, if not humorous in himself, he was "the cause of humor in
+others."
+
+Truth to tell, Armathwaite gave him slight heed. He was mainly
+interested in Marguérite Ogilvey's attitude, and she was markedly
+irritated either by her friend's lackadaisical pose or because he had
+appeared at all. The girl softened, however, when she saw how Percy
+limped. She linked an arm in his, and the trio moved off.
+
+"How often have I told you to wear strong boots with good, stout soles?"
+she said. "I'm a good walker myself, but I don't tackle these moor roads
+in house slippers. Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite? One ought to be
+properly shod for trudging about the country."
+
+"You don't seem to understand that I hate trudging anywhere; the last
+thing I dreamed of when I left Chester this morning was that I should
+tramp half across Yorkshire," protested Whittaker.
+
+"Even now, I don't see why you came."
+
+"Couldn't help myself--Edie's orders."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Well--er--"
+
+"If you mean that she knew I had gone away intending to wear a boy's
+clothes you needn't spare my feelings. Mr. Armathwaite knows all about
+that."
+
+"Does he? In that case, I'm spared any explanation. You see, Edie was
+naturally anxious. As for me, I hardly slept a wink last night through
+worrying about you. And then, a letter came for you this morning from
+your father. I recognized his handwriting, and it's marked 'Immediate.'
+Since there was no news from you, we were at a loss to decide on the
+best course to adopt. Now, I appeal to you, Mr. Armathwaite. Suppose--"
+
+"I agree with you entirely," broke in Armathwaite. "I think Miss Ogilvey
+ought to be profoundly grateful for your self-sacrifice."
+
+"There, Meg, do you hear that? Self-sacrifice! I'm literally skinned in
+your service, and you only pitch into me. Now, I've done most of the
+talking. It's your turn. When are you coming home?"
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps."
+
+"But, I say, Meg! There'll be a howling row with your people when they
+find out."
+
+"Where is dad's letter? You've brought it, of course?"
+
+"Yes. Edie thought that was the best plan. Here you are!"
+
+He produced a letter from a breast pocket, and sat down instantly when
+the girl murmured an apology and opened the envelope. Armathwaite
+refilled his pipe, and lit it. While doing so he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was scrutinizing him with a curiously subtle underlook, and
+the notion was borne in on him that the newcomer, though effete in some
+respects, might be alert enough in others. For one thing, the tired
+gray-green eyes had suddenly become critical; for another, a weak mouth
+was balanced by a somewhat stubborn chin. For all his amusingly
+plaintive air, this young man could be vindictive if he chose. At any
+rate, Armathwaite realized that another barrier had been thrust in the
+way of Marguérite Ogilvey's untroubled departure from Elmdale. Percy
+Whittaker was obviously an intimate friend, and the extraordinary crisis
+which had arisen in the Ogilvey household could hardly remain hidden
+from him. What use would he make of the knowledge? How would such a
+flabby youth act in circumstances which were utterly perplexing to a man
+ten years his senior in age and immeasurably more experienced?
+Armathwaite could not make up his mind. He must simply bide his time and
+act as he deemed expedient in conditions that varied so remarkably from
+hour to hour. At the moment, he was in the position of the master of a
+ship becalmed in the tropics, surrounded by an unvexed sea and a
+cloudless sky, yet warned by a sharp fall in the barometer that a
+typhoon was imminent.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from the girl.
+
+"Just like dad!" she cried. "He writes asking me to search among the old
+bookshops of Chester for one of the very volumes I am bringing from his
+own library. He knows it is here, yet persists in disregarding the fact.
+Mr. Armathwaite, what _am_ I to think? Isn't it enough to turn one's
+hair gray?"
+
+"It is a puzzling situation, certainly," said Armathwaite, quickly alive
+to the fact that, in Whittaker's presence, at any rate, the cousinship
+had been dropped.
+
+"What is?" demanded Whittaker. "Not much to make a fuss about in
+searching for a book, is there?"
+
+"No. But suppose I tell you that people here declare my father is dead,
+that he committed suicide two years ago, that he is buried in a
+neighboring cemetery, that his ghost is seen o' nights in our own
+house--what would you say then, Percy?"
+
+"I'd say that the inhabitants are well suited to their country, and the
+sooner you and I are away from both, the better for the pair of us."
+
+Meg crumpled up the letter in one hand, and hauled Whittaker to his feet
+with the other.
+
+"Come on," she said emphatically. "If you hear the whole story now
+you'll collapse. I'm glad you've arrived, though I thought at first you
+were adding to my worries. You can help in clearing up a mystery. Now,
+don't interrupt, but listen! I'm going to give you a plain,
+straightforward version of events which sound like the maddest sort of
+nonsense. You wouldn't believe a word I'm telling you if Mr. Armathwaite
+wasn't present. But he will vouch for every syllable, and, when I've
+finished, you'll agree that when I said we would leave here, 'to-morrow,
+perhaps,' I might just as well have substituted 'next week' or 'next
+month' for 'to-morrow.' Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite?"
+
+Armathwaite removed his pipe from between teeth that were biting
+savagely into its stem. He wished the girl had been more discreet, yet,
+how could he forbid these confidences?
+
+"Yes, and no," he answered. "Yes, if you mean to constitute yourself
+into a court of inquiry; no, if you take my advice, and return to
+Chester with Mr. Whittaker without loss of time."
+
+"How is that possible?" she insisted, turning wondering eyes on him.
+"You yourself said that nothing we can do now will stop the authorities
+from re-opening the whole affair. There is no hope of closing people's
+mouths, Bob! Well, I've said it, and now Percy will be wild to learn the
+facts, because Meg Ogilvey doesn't run around calling by their Christian
+names men whom she has known a day without very good reason. But you
+don't know our local folk if you think our affairs are not being talked
+of in Elmdale and Nuttonby at this moment. Bland saw me, and James
+Walker will spread the tale far and wide. What good will I do by running
+away? Don't imagine I didn't hear what Walker said. He blurted out what
+you have hinted at. Some man was found dead in our house. It wasn't my
+father. Then, who was it?"
+
+In her excitement she was hurrying Percy along at a rare pace, and
+Armathwaite saw, with a chill of foreboding, that the other was stepping
+out without protest, all an ear for impending revelations.
+
+"From that point of view, Mr. Whittaker's presence is unquestionably
+advantageous," he said. "He is a friend in whom you can trust. He is
+acquainted with your relatives, I take it. His opinions will
+consequently be far weightier than mine."
+
+"That's the way Bob talks when he's grumpy," said the girl, apparently
+for Whittaker's benefit alone. "He doesn't mean it really, but he thinks
+he ought to behave like a stage uncle and prevent an impulsive young
+thing from acting foolishly. Yet, all the time, he knows quite well that
+we could no more change the course of events now than hold back the
+tide."
+
+"Will you kindly remember that if you were talking Greek, I'd have just
+about as much grasp of what you're saying as I have at this moment?" put
+in Whittaker.
+
+Thus recalled to her task, Marguérite did not deviate from it any
+further. By the time Percy Whittaker had dropped into a chair in the
+dining-room, he had heard exactly what had happened since Armathwaite
+arrived in Elmdale. As he was hungry, a meal was improvised. He said
+little, only interpolating a fairly shrewd question now and again while
+Marguérite was amplifying some part of her recital. About this time he
+developed a new trait. He seemed rather to shirk comments which would
+draw Armathwaite into the conversation. When the girl appealed to the
+latter to verify some statement of fact, Whittaker remained silent. Even
+when it was necessary to refer directly to Armathwaite, he did so
+obliquely.
+
+"You've spun a jolly queer yarn, Meg," he said, after she had retailed,
+for the second time, and with evident gusto, the discomfiture of James
+Walker. "I think it would be a good notion now if we found out what
+really did occur in this house after you and your mother went away.
+Didn't you say there was a newspaper report of the inquest handy?"
+
+"Betty Jackson promised to give it to Mr. Armathwaite."
+
+"Well, couldn't we see it?"
+
+"I'll go and ask her for it," said Armathwaite, and he left the room.
+
+"Tell you what, Meg," drawled Percy, pouring out a third cup of tea,
+"you're making a howling mistake in letting that chap share your
+confidence."
+
+Marguérite's eyebrows curved in astonishment. The very suddenness of
+this attack was disconcerting.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried.
+
+"It's not always easy to give reasons for one's ideas. I was just
+thinking that he's a complete stranger, and here he is acting as though
+he was the head of the family. Who is he? Where does he come from? Why
+is he poking his nose into your private affairs? By gad, I can see Edie
+sniffing at him if she was here in my place!"
+
+Some gleam of intuition warned the girl that she must repress the sharp
+retort on her lips.
+
+"Then I am glad your sister is not here," she said quietly. "You must
+have woefully misunderstood every word I have uttered if you imagine
+that Mr. Armathwaite has done anything but strive manfully to keep a
+sordid story from my ken. He tried to make me go away this morning, and
+again this afternoon. He would certainly send me off early to-morrow if
+he were not afraid of some terrible thing happening. Please don't begin
+by being prejudiced against Mr. Armathwaite. I have enough trouble
+staring me in the face to dispense with absurd suspicions of one who has
+been a very real friend."
+
+Whittaker seemed to weigh the point. Marguérite's self-control probably
+angered him as greatly as any other of the amazing things which had come
+to his knowledge during the past hour. He had expected her to bridle in
+defense of the man in whom she reposed such trust; her very calmness was
+unexpected and annoying.
+
+"What will your people say when the whole business comes out?" he
+grumbled. "Dash it, Meg, I must speak plainly! It's no joke, you know,
+your coming here and being alone in the house with some fellow whom you
+never heard of before in your life."
+
+Her face paled, and her brown eyes had a glint of fire in them; but with
+a splendid effort, she managed again to frame words other than those
+eager to burst forth.
+
+"You miss the real problem that calls for solution," she said
+tremulously. "The consequences of my actions, no matter how foolish they
+may have been, count for nothing in comparison with the tragedy with
+which my father's name is bound up. Oh, Percy, don't you see what people
+must think? A man committed suicide in this house, and every one
+believed it was my father. Yet you yourself, less than an hour ago,
+brought me a letter written by my father yesterday! Suppose I leave
+Elmdale this instant--suppose, which is impossible, that the present
+excitement dies down--how can I go through life with such a ghastly
+secret weighing me down? It would drive me crazy!"
+
+Armathwaite's firm tread was audible as he crossed the hall.
+
+"Anyhow, take my tip, and don't blurt out everything you know the minute
+you're asked," muttered her counselor, and the door opened.
+
+Armathwaite drew a chair to the window and unfolded a frayed newspaper,
+laying another on his knees. To all appearance, he had noted neither the
+sullen discontent in one face nor the white anguish in the other.
+
+"This is a copy of the _Nuttonby Gazette_, dated June 22nd, two years
+ago," he said. "It contains what appears to be a verbatim report of the
+opening day's inquest, which seems to have created a rare stir, judging
+by the scare heads and space allotted to it. Will it distress you, Miss
+Ogilvey, if I go through it from beginning to end?"
+
+"Yes, it will distress me very greatly, but I don't see how I can avoid
+hearing it. If one visits the dentist there is no use in pretending that
+having a tooth drawn doesn't hurt. Please read every word."
+
+He obeyed without further preamble. It was a disagreeable task, but he
+did not flinch from it, though well aware that the gruesome details
+would shock one of his hearers inexpressibly. Divested of the
+loud-sounding phrases with which a country reporter loves to clothe any
+incident of a sensational character, the newspaper added nothing to the
+facts already related by Betty Jackson and Police-constable Leadbitter,
+except a letter written and signed by the deceased man, in which he
+declared he had taken his own life because he was suffering from an
+incurable disease. It was only when the succeeding issue of the
+_Nuttonby Gazette_ was scanned, with its report of the adjourned
+inquest, that new light was vouchsafed.
+
+The coroner was a Mr. Hill, a local solicitor; a Dr. Scaife, from
+Bellerby, who had conducted a post-mortem examination, had excited Mr.
+Hill's ire by his excessive caution in describing the cause of death.
+
+"I found no symptoms of what is popularly known as 'incurable disease,'"
+said the doctor. "The brain, heart, liver, lungs, and internal organs
+generally were in a fairly healthy state except for ordinary post-mortem
+indications. Death by hanging is usually capable of clear diagnosis.
+There is excessive fluidity of the blood, with hyperæmia of the lungs.
+The right side of the heart is engorged, and the left nearly empty. The
+mucous membrane of the trachea is injected, and appears of a
+cinnabar-red color. The abdominal veins are congested, and apoplexy of
+the brain is present as a secondary symptom. Contrary to common belief,
+the eyes do not start from the head, and the tongue seldom protrudes
+beyond the teeth. Indeed, the expression of the face does not differ
+from that seen in other forms of death, and, in this connection, it must
+be remembered that death, the result of disease, may present all the
+signs of death by suffocation. The body showed few of these indices."
+
+"Would you mind telling us what you are driving at, Dr. Scaife?" the
+coroner had asked. "Here is a man found hanging in his house, leaving a
+letter addressed to me in which he states his intention beyond a doubt.
+Do you wish the jury to believe that his death may nevertheless have
+been a natural one?"
+
+"No," was the reply. "I do not say that. But the absence of certain
+symptoms, and the presence of others, make it essential that I should
+state that Mr. Garth might just as well have died from apoplexy as from
+strangulation."
+
+"Are we to understand that Mr. Garth may have died from apoplexy and
+afterwards hanged himself?"
+
+"That would be nonsense," said Dr. Scaife.
+
+"I agree, most emphatically. Do you refuse to certify as to the cause of
+death?"
+
+"No. I am merely fulfilling a duty by pointing out what I regard as
+discrepancies in the post-mortem conditions. I looked for signs of
+organic disease. There was none."
+
+Evidently, coroner and doctor were inclined to be testy with each other,
+and the newspaper report left the impression that Dr. Scaife was a
+hair-splitter. In the result, a verdict of "Suicide, while in a state of
+unsound mind," was returned.
+
+There followed a description of the interment in Bellerby churchyard of
+"the mortal remains of Stephen Garth," when the vicar read a "modified
+form of the burial service," while the "continued absence from Elmdale
+of the dead man's wife and daughter," was referred to without other
+comment.
+
+When Armathwaite laid aside the second newspaper, no one spoke for a
+minute or more. Percy Whittaker was seemingly interested in the effort
+of a fly to extract nutriment from a lump of sugar; Marguérite Ogilvey
+was staring at vacancy with wide-open, terror-laden eyes; Armathwaite
+himself appeared to be turning over the baffling problem in his mind.
+
+At last, Whittaker stirred uneasily.
+
+"What time does the post leave here, Meg?" he inquired. "I want to send
+Edie a line. She'll have a bad fit of the jumps if she hears from
+neither of us to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+WHEREIN PERCY WHITTAKER PROVES HIMSELF A MAN OF ACTION
+
+
+The rather bizarre question startled the girl out of her melancholy
+thoughts. She looked at Whittaker as though she had completely forgotten
+his presence.
+
+"The post," she repeated. "There is no post out of Elmdale this evening.
+Miggles passed through the village hours ago."
+
+"Miggles?"
+
+"He's the postman. We either see him ourselves or leave letters at
+Thompson's, the grocer's, before four o'clock."
+
+"Then neither letter nor telegram can be dispatched to-night?"
+
+"Yes. If you care to pay mileage to Bellerby, and the message is handed
+in before eight, Thompson will send a boy with a telegram."
+
+Whittaker glanced at his watch. The hour was half-past six.
+
+"How far is Bellerby?" he said. "Tell me in terms of the clock, not in
+miles, which, as a method of reckoning in Yorkshire, conveys a sense of
+infinity."
+
+"A boy can bicycle there in half an hour."
+
+"Then, footsore as I am, I shall hie me to Thompson's."
+
+"Why not write your telegram here, and Betty will take it."
+
+"No, thanks. I'll see to it myself. Then, if it doesn't reach Edie
+to-night, I can place a hand on my heart and vow I did all man could do,
+and failed."
+
+"You are not forgetting that I have written to her?"
+
+"No. Don't you see? A letter from you complicates matters even more. If
+she hears from Meg, and not a word is said about Percy, she'll wonder
+what has become of little me. I suppose Thompson's shop is not 'a nice
+bit' removed from the village?"
+
+"It is opposite the Fox and Hounds Inn. You can walk there in two
+minutes."
+
+Armathwaite, who had risen, and was staring through the window during
+this brief colloquy, was struck by the quietly pertinacious note in
+Whittaker's voice. Moreover, he was listening carefully, since there was
+some faint trace of an accent which had a familiar sound in his ears. He
+waited, until the younger man had gone out and was walking gingerly down
+the garden path; progress downhill must have been a torture to sore
+toes, yet Whittaker was strangely determined to send that unnecessary
+telegram in person--unnecessary, that is, in view of the fact that a
+message dispatched next morning would have served the same purpose. Why?
+Armathwaite found that life bristled with interrogatives just then.
+
+Turning to look at Marguérite, he said:
+
+"Your friend doesn't like me."
+
+She did not attempt to fence with him. Somehow, when her eyes met his, a
+new strength leaped in her heart.
+
+"Percy flatters himself on the ease with which he follows the line of
+least resistance, but in reality he is a somewhat shallow and
+transparent person," she answered.
+
+"There is a transparency of shallowness which occasionally hides a
+certain depth of mud."
+
+"Oh, he means no harm! His widowed sister, Mrs. Suarez, is a great
+stickler for the conventions, and she has infected him with her notions.
+She is the 'Edie' he speaks of. _My_ chum is a younger sister,
+Christabel."
+
+"Suarez? An unusual name in England."
+
+"She married a Calcutta merchant. The Whittakers are Anglo-Indians."
+
+Armathwaite smiled. He knew now whence came that slightly sibilant
+accent. Whittaker was a blonde Eurasian, a species so rare that it was
+not surprising that even a close observer should have failed to detect
+the "touch of the tar-brush" at first sight. From that instant
+Armathwaite regarded him from an entirely new view-point. The Briton who
+has lived many years in the East holds firmly to the dogmatic principle
+that in the blend of two races the Eurasian is dowered with the virtues
+of neither and the vices of both. More than ever did he regret the
+qualms of the conventional Mrs. Suarez which had brought Percy Whittaker
+to Elmdale that day.
+
+"I'm sorry he deems it advisable to distrust me," he went on. "How long
+have you been acquainted with the family?"
+
+"Ever since I went to school with Christabel at Brighton. She often came
+here during the summer holidays; and I used to visit her at
+Whitsuntide."
+
+"They are aware of your change of name, of course?"
+
+"Yes. How could it be otherwise?"
+
+"A thoughtless question indeed. The notion was flitting through my mind
+that no one in Elmdale knew of it, or the fact was bound to have been
+made public at the inquest. The doctor who gave evidence--was he your
+regular medical attendant?"
+
+"He was an intimate friend rather than a doctor. He knew dad so well
+that he would scout the idea of suicide. Perhaps that explains his
+hesitating statement to the coroner. Oh, Mr. Armathwaite, what does it
+all mean? Was ever girl plunged into such a sea of trouble? What _am_ I
+to do?"
+
+"Don't you think you ought to send for your mother?"
+
+"If she were here now she could only say what I am saying--that my
+father is alive and in the best of health."
+
+"Forgive me if I seem to be cross-examining you, but I am groping
+blindly towards some theory which shall satisfy two conditions wholly
+irreconcilable at present. Your mother and you went away from Elmdale,
+leaving your father here. Do you remember the exact reason given for
+your departure?"
+
+"One day dad asked me to read some passages from a French treatise on
+Basque songs. It was rather technical stuff, and I stumbled over the
+translation, so he said I was losing my French, and that mother and I
+should go to Paris for a few weeks, and do a round of theaters. Of
+course, I was delighted--what girl wouldn't be? I couldn't pack quickly
+enough. When Paris emptied, towards the end of June, we went to Quimper,
+in Brittany. And there was another excuse, too. About that time we
+received news of the legacy, and dad thought we should get accustomed
+to the change of name more readily in a foreign country."
+
+"How long did you remain abroad?"
+
+"Nearly three months. But dad joined us within a fortnight of our
+departure from England. He only remained at home to finish a book and
+clear up the lawyer's business about the money."
+
+"After your return, what happened?"
+
+"We had a month in London. Then my people took a house in Cornwall, near
+the village of Warleggan, a place tucked in beneath the moors, just as
+Elmdale is. Dad explained that he wanted to study the miracle plays at
+first hand, because the remnants of the language possessed by the old
+inhabitants were more helpful than grammars and Oxford translations."
+
+"Your mother raised no difficulties about the change of residence?"
+
+"Not the least. In a way, it was rather agreeable, both to mother and
+me. Here we saw very few people. In Warleggan, where dad's pen-name, now
+his own legally, gave him some social standing, the county families
+called. We were richer, too, and could afford to entertain, which we
+never did while in Elmdale."
+
+Armathwaite passed a hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of sheer
+bewilderment.
+
+"I still hold strongly to the opinion that you should send for Mrs.
+Ogilvey," he said, striving to cloak the motive underlying the
+suggestion, since he was assured now that the half-forgotten tragedy of
+the Grange would speedily burst into a new and sinister prominence in
+far-off Warleggan. "If she were here she could direct my efforts to
+choke off inquirers. We may be acting quite mistakenly. She knows
+everything--I am convinced of that--and her appearance would, in itself,
+serve to put matters on a more normal basis."
+
+Marguérite sprang to her feet. Her fine eyes blazed with uncontrollable
+excitement, and her voice held a ring of defiance.
+
+"If my mother ought to come, why not my father?" she cried vehemently.
+"I know what you are thinking, but dare not say. You believe my father
+is a murderer? Is that it? You imagine that a man who would not wilfully
+harm a fly is capable of committing a dreadful crime and shielding
+himself under the assumption that he took his own life?"
+
+"Isn't that rather unjust of you?" said Armathwaite.
+
+"I'm not considering the justice or injustice of my words now. I am
+defending one whom I love. I----"
+
+She choked, and buried her face in her hands. Bitterly aware that he was
+only adding to her woes, he nerved himself for the ungracious task.
+
+"You are trying, like myself, to explain a set of extraordinary
+circumstances," he said. "Woman-like, you do not scruple to place on my
+shoulders the burden of your own vague suspicions. I am not so greatly
+concerned as you seem to imagine because of the possibility that your
+father may have killed someone. Unhappily, I myself have killed several
+men, in fair fight, and in the service of my country, but there is no
+blood-guiltiness on my conscience. Before I venture to describe any man
+as a murderer, I want to know whom he killed, and why."
+
+He made this amazing statement with the calm air of a sportsman
+contrasting the "bags" of rival grouse moors. Even in her bitter
+distress the girl was constrained to gaze at him in wonderment.
+
+"You think that the taking of human life may be justifiable?" she
+gasped.
+
+"Naturally. If not, why do we honor great soldiers with pensions and
+peerages?"
+
+"But that is in warfare, when nations are struggling for what they
+conceive to be their rights."
+
+"Sometimes. The hardest tussle I was ever engaged in dealt with no more
+sacred trust than the safe-guarding of half a dozen bullocks. Certain
+fierce-whiskered scoundrels swore by the Prophet that they would rieve
+those cattle, and perhaps a rifle or two, with a collection of women's
+ornaments as a side line, while I was equally resolved that the lawful
+possessors thereof should not be harried. Fifteen men died in five
+minutes before the matter was settled in accordance with my wishes, and
+I accounted for three of them. I am not boasting of the achievement. It
+was a disagreeable necessity. I tell you of it now merely to dissipate
+any notion you may have formed as to my squeamishness in looking
+unpleasant facts squarely in the face. A man died here two years ago,
+and it would be sheer folly to pretend that your father knew nothing
+about it. I believe you will find that the dead man not only wore Mr.
+Garth's clothes, but bore such a close facial and physical resemblance
+to him that people who had known him half a lifetime were deceived.
+Then, there is the letter read by the coroner. I take it for granted
+that it was in your father's handwriting. If these things are true, and
+common sense tells me that we ought to go on that assumption, and on no
+other, Mr. Garth will surely be called upon to explain why he endeavored
+to hoodwink the authorities. If he comes here within the next few days
+he will certainly be arrested. That is why I ask you to send for your
+mother. Everything points to the belief that she knows why you left
+Elmdale. I reject the legacy theory _in toto_. By a strange coincidence,
+your parents may have had some money left to them by will about that
+time. If so, they merely took advantage of the fortunate chance which
+enabled them to explain the change of name without any violent wrenching
+of the probabilities. One word more to define my own position in this
+matter. I don't care tuppence whether or not your father killed anyone,
+or why. My sole concern is for you. I am responsible for the whole
+wretched muddle. Had I not gratified an impish taste for ferreting out
+mysteries, I would have allowed Betty Jackson to smuggle you out of the
+house yesterday. Had I obeyed the conventions--those shackles on the
+wayward-minded devised by generations of careful mammas--I would have
+bundled you off last night, or, if common charity forbade, sent you away
+at daybreak. Then, nothing would have happened, except that I should be
+burdened with a secret, no new thing in _my_ life. Now, will you send
+for Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"No," came the instant reply.
+
+"Despite Mr. Percy Whittaker's warning, will you trust me so far as to
+explain your reason for refusing?"
+
+"What do you mean by 'Percy Whittaker's warning'? I have told you
+nothing of what he said."
+
+"I understand the type of man. He could no more refrain from suggesting
+that I was actuated by some underhanded motive than a flea-ridden dog
+from scratching."
+
+"Please, don't pick a quarrel with Percy on my account," she pleaded
+tearfully.
+
+"On your account I shall suffer Percy, even though he bray me in a
+mortar."
+
+"Well, then, I'm--I'm sorry if I turned on you a little while ago. I
+apologize. You are really the only one I can appeal to for help at this
+moment. It was just because I felt the truth of all that you have said
+that I tried to force the same confession from you. Heaven help me, I am
+compelled to believe that my poor father got himself involved in some
+dreadful crime. It will all come out now. If the police get hold of him
+he will be put in prison. I must save him. Never did daughter love a
+father more than I love mine, and I'll sacrifice everything, reputation,
+happiness, even life itself, for his sake. And that is why my mother
+must not come here. I shall remain, and she will stay in Cornwall so as
+to safeguard him, if need be. You have no idea what an innocent he is in
+worldly affairs. If--if he had to escape--to get away from some foreign
+country--he could never manage it without her assistance. Don't you see,
+the decision must rest with me? I'll write to mother, and tell her what
+we know, and arrange some plan with her whereby dad will be able to
+avoid arrest. Oh, I can't make things clearer, but you are so kind and
+nice that you will understand--and help! Say you'll help, and I'll not
+cry any more--but be brave--and confident!"
+
+While uttering that broken appeal she had come near, and a timid hand
+now rested on his shoulder. He looked down into her swimming eyes and
+saw there the perfect faith of a child. Never was man more tempted to
+take a woman in his arms and kiss away her fears than was Robert
+Armathwaite at that instant, but he recoiled from the notion as though a
+snake had reared its basilisk head from out of a bed of sweet-scented
+flowers. Nevertheless, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and now his
+left arm was entwined with her right arm, and they stood there in
+unconsciously lover-like pose.
+
+"I'm glad you said that, little girl," he said quietly. "I shall not
+disappoint you, depend on that. If we have to break every statute
+therein made and provided, we'll save your father from the consequences
+of his own blundering or wrong-doing. Now, leave everything to me. If
+strangers, other than the police, ask you questions, refer them to your
+'cousin.' Remember, you know nothing and can tell nothing as to bygone
+events, while you can say, if a demand is made for your father's present
+address, that I have advised you not to supply it. We must not appear to
+be actually defying the authorities. Our rôle is one of blank ignorance,
+combined with a pardonable curiosity to discover what all the fuss is
+about. I must not figure as a hindrance to inquiry, but merely as a
+distant relative who objects to your being bothered by a matter of which
+you, at least, have no knowledge. Now, one thing more--I want to see
+your father's handwriting. Will you give me the envelope which contained
+his letter?"
+
+"Better still," said Marguérite, drying her eyes with a scrap of lace
+which was supposed to be a pocket-handkerchief, "I'll give you the
+letter itself. You'll find it a highly incriminating document."
+
+To reach the letter, which she had tucked into a waistbelt, she had to
+withdraw the other hand from Armathwaite's shoulder. He had no excuse to
+hold her any longer in that protecting way, and his own hands fell.
+Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was gazing at them through the window.
+
+His first impulse was to tell his companion of this covert espionage,
+for it was nothing less. The two were talking in the drawing-room, so
+Whittaker had purposely walked past the porch in order to look in at
+them. Then he decided that the girl had worries in plenty without
+embroiling her with one who was admittedly an admirer, so he indulged in
+a little bit of acting on his own account.
+
+When she produced the letter, he turned his back on the window,
+ostensibly to obtain a better light, and, at the same time, drew
+slightly to one side. The handwriting was scholarly but curiously
+legible, betraying the habit of a dabbler in strange words who printed
+rather than wrote, lest some playful compositor should invent a new and
+confounding philology.
+
+The text certainly afforded a weird commentary on the circumstances
+which laid at the writer's door responsibility for an audacious crime.
+It ran:
+
+     "MY DARLING MEG,--Chester has been a bookish city since the days of
+     Julius Cæsar. I have small doubt, if one dug deep in its
+     foundations, one would come across an original manuscript in J.
+     C.'s own fist. I would impose a lighter task, however. Rummage one
+     or two old bookshops, and get me Wentworth Webster's 'Basque
+     Legends,' published in London in 1877 and 1879. I am hungering for
+     it. Find it quickly, and come home. I need your sharp eyes.--Yours
+     ever,
+
+     "Dad."
+
+Marguérite watched Armathwaite's face while he read.
+
+"Enough to hang anybody, isn't it?" she cried, with dolorous effort to
+speak in lighter vein.
+
+"May I retain this? I shall take good care of it."
+
+"Keep it as a souvenir. The identical book is lying on the library
+table."
+
+Yet her mobile face clouded again, since it could not be denied that her
+father knew well that the book was in the Elmdale house, and was
+deliberately ignoring its existence there.
+
+Armathwaite affected to look through the window.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "Whittaker has come back."
+
+Whittaker, standing sideways, seemingly discovered them simultaneously.
+He came in.
+
+"Thompson speaks a language of his own," he drawled; "but the dispatch
+of a boy on a bicycle, and the resultant charge of three shillings, gave
+color to my belief that he understood the meaning of 'telegram.'
+Otherwise, his remarks were gibberish."
+
+"Percy," said Marguérite gravely, "Mr. Armathwaite and I have had a
+serious talk while you were out. He advised me to send for my mother,
+but, for various reasons, I have decided to fight this battle myself,
+with your aid, and Mr. Armathwaite's, of course."
+
+Whittaker hesitated perceptibly before he spoke again. Like all
+neurotics, he had to flog himself into decision.
+
+"I fully expected something of the sort, Meg," he said at last. "As I
+don't approve of the present state of affairs, I took it on myself to
+ask Edie to wire Mrs. Ogilvey, bidding her travel north by the next
+train."
+
+"You didn't dare!" breathed the girl, whose very lips whitened with
+consternation.
+
+"Oh, yes, I dared all right! A fellow must assert himself occasionally,
+you know. I can see plainly that you intend remaining in Elmdale till
+the mystery you have tumbled into is cleared up. In that case, your
+mother is the right person to take hold of the situation. You'll be
+vexed with me, no doubt, and tell me that I had no business to
+interfere, but I've thought this thing out, and I'm backing my judgment
+against yours. In a week, or less, you'll thank me. See if you don't."
+
+"I shall never forgive you while I have breath in my body," she said,
+speaking with a slow laboriousness that revealed the tension of her
+feelings far more than the mere words.
+
+"I was sure you'd say that, and must put up with it for the time being.
+Anyhow, the thing is beyond our control now, and you know Edie well
+enough to guess that she'll do as I tell her."
+
+"What did you tell her? I have a right to ask."
+
+"I kept a copy of the message," he said with seeming nonchalance. "I'll
+read it: 'Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death which
+occurred in Grange two years ago. Telegraph her mother at once, and
+recommend immediate journey to Elmdale.' Unless I'm greatly mistaken,
+that will bring Mrs. Ogilvey here without delay, especially when Edie
+adds her own comments."
+
+Marguérite sank into a chair. Her sky had fallen. She was too unnerved
+now to find relief even in tears. She continued to glower at Whittaker
+as though he had become some fearsome and abhorrent object. Evidently,
+however, he had steeled himself against some such attitude on her part.
+
+"Don't forget there's two to one in this argument, Meg," he said,
+sitting down and producing a cigarette. "Since Mr. Armathwaite has
+elected to be your champion after a very brief acquaintance, I must
+point out that, by your own admission, he recommended the same thing.
+The only difference is that while he talked I acted."
+
+For a little time there was silence. Whittaker, brazening the thing out,
+lighted the cigarette. Armathwaite, unable to indulge the impulse which
+suggested the one effective way in which this decadent half-breed could
+be restrained from future interference, could not trust himself to
+speak. As for the girl, she seemed to be tongue-tied, but her laboring
+breath gave eloquent testimony of surcharged emotions.
+
+Finally, wishing to ease the strain, Armathwaite glanced at his watch.
+The time was a few minutes after seven.
+
+"I'm going into the village," he said. "I believe the dinner hour is
+7:30, but I may not return till much later, so you might kindly tell
+Betty that I shall forage for myself when I come in."
+
+"Don't leave me, Bob," came the despairing cry. "I can't bear to be left
+alone to-night."
+
+"Very well," he said, yielding instantly to that heart-felt appeal.
+"I'll entrust my business to a deputy. Look for me in ten minutes."
+
+He went out. The two in the room heard the front door close, and
+followed his firm tread as he strode to the gate. Then Marguérite rose,
+and flung wide a window, and her sorrow-laden eyes dwelt unseeing on the
+far horizon. She stood there, motionless, until Whittaker stirred
+fretfully.
+
+"Look here, Meg," he began, but was promptly stricken into silence
+again. Starting at the sound of his voice as though she had heard a
+serpent's hiss, the girl hurried away without a word, obviously making
+for the solitude of her own apartment.
+
+He lighted another cigarette.
+
+"By gad!" he cackled to himself, apparently extracting amusement from a
+situation in which the majority of men would have found small cause for
+humor, "I've stopped those two from billing and cooing, or my name ain't
+Percy. I can't stomach that big chap, and that's a fact. He's just the
+sort of fellow a girl might lose her head over, but I've put a spoke in
+his wheel by bringing ma on the scene. Now I must sit tight, and play
+naughty little boy in the corner till she arrives. After that, I'll make
+it my business to shunt pa into some climate better suited for his
+particular complaint. Maybe I shan't figure so badly in Meg's estimation
+when she realizes that I did some hard thinking while the other johnny
+was making eyes at her. I've been looking for some sort of an explosion
+in this quarter ever since I read of the suicide of Stephen Garth at the
+Grange, Elmdale. I thought then there was something fishy going on, and
+I was jolly well not mistaken. If I hadn't been such a dashed fool as to
+tramp over that confounded moor I'd have been here hours sooner. But
+all's well that ends well, and this affair shan't slip out of my grip if
+I can help it."
+
+He had chosen a strange way in which to woo a maid, but there is no
+accounting for the vagaries of a warped mind, and Percy Whittaker was a
+true degenerate, one of those physically weak and mentally perverted
+beings
+
+    "In whose cold blood no spark of honor bides."
+
+Yet, even his sluggish pulses could be stirred. The house which had
+witnessed strange scenes played by stronger actors might be trusted to
+deal sternly with this popinjay. He got his first taste of its quality
+before he was an hour older.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SHOWING THE REAL STRENGTH OF AN ILLUSION
+
+
+Armathwaite went straight to Farmer Burt's house. He reasoned that Burt
+would be a likely possessor of a smart cob, and that among the farm
+hands would exist at least one boy of sufficient intelligence to carry
+through a simple commission without error. He was lucky in finding the
+farmer at home, watering his stock before completing the hay-making
+operations. In the bleak North the agriculturist wastes no time when the
+weather is propitious. If need be, Burt and his men would work till
+nearly midnight, and feel well pleased if thereby the last rick of dry,
+sweet-smelling hay was covered with a tarpaulin.
+
+Explanation, backed by ample payment, produced both the boy and the cob.
+In the result, the following telegram was handed in at Bellerby
+post-office ten minutes before the closing hour of eight:
+
+     "Postmaster, York,--Kindly give this telegram and accompanying ten
+     pounds to proprietor of principal garage in York. I want to hire
+     powerful and reliable car with experienced chauffeur for one week
+     at least. Will pay full rates on condition that car reaches me by
+     noon to-morrow, Friday. Chauffeur should bring ample supply of
+     petrol, as none available here. I send ten pounds as guarantee for
+     order, and will remit balance of first week's charge in accordance
+     with instructions conveyed by chauffeur. Owner of car will oblige
+     by telegraphing acceptance of offer, with name and address, early
+     to-morrow, paying porterage, which will be refunded.--ARMATHWAITE,
+     The Grange, Elmdale, viâ Bellerby."
+
+It was a singular fact that the really effective means of burking
+inquiry by the local authorities only occurred to Armathwaite's
+perplexed brain as he was hurrying back to the Grange. When all was said
+and done, who in Elmdale actually knew that the erstwhile Stephen Garth
+was living? His daughter and Percy Whittaker! He, Armathwaite, could not
+even be certain that Whittaker had ever seen the man. Well, then,
+Marguérite had only to vow that her earlier statement was a sheer
+invention, a species of joke inspired by the worst possible taste--and
+Stephen Garth would rest quietly in his grave! The pretense left the
+mystery insoluble as ever where the girl herself was concerned, but
+that phase of the difficulty might be dealt with in the privacy of her
+own home. The chief draw-back--an official inquiry, with its
+far-reaching developments--would be surmounted. The Jacksons might be
+trusted to forget everything they had heard that day. There remained
+James Walker. Well, his evidence was discredited at the outset.
+Armathwaite himself would be a most convincing witness against Walker.
+It would be easy to show that the pushful and amorous youth who had
+bluffed his way into the house in order to insult a lady who would have
+nothing to do with him, and was forcibly ejected by the new tenant, had
+fallen into a singular and most amazing blunder when he said that
+Marguérite Garth had told him that her father was still alive.
+
+The more Armathwaite reviewed this possible way out of a really
+threatening situation the more he liked it. The surprising thing was
+that he had not thought of it sooner. Even Percy Whittaker's confounded
+impertinence in telegraphing to his sister was robbed of its sting.
+Suppose the police got wind of the message, they would make little of
+it. How did it run? "Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death
+which occurred in Grange two years ago." It was awkwardly phrased,
+perhaps, but was capable of explanation. She was "disturbed" by the
+"rumors." What rumors? Not that her father was not dead, but that some
+other man had died and been buried in his place! Who had spread the
+rumors? Why, Walker himself! Had he not jeered at Marguérite, and
+endeavored to palliate his offense by repeating the absurd tittle-tattle
+to the man who had kicked him out of the house? Thin ice, this; but it
+might bear if not pressed unduly. By rare luck Whittaker had asked his
+sister to communicate with the girl's mother. There was no reference to
+her father. In effect, a friend of long standing had recognized the fact
+that she had only one parent left.
+
+Armathwaite was bothered by no scruples in this matter. He had promised
+Marguérite Ogilvey his help in her efforts to safeguard the father whom
+she held so dear, and he would fulfill his bond to the letter.
+Personally, he ran no risk. His acquaintance with Elmdale and its
+strange tragedy was only a day old. As for Marguérite herself, no jury
+in the land would punish a daughter who lied to protect her own father.
+There remained Percy Whittaker. What crooked line would that
+curiously-constituted youth take? He could be bribed into acquiescence;
+but what terms would he exact? Armathwaite felt a certain tightening of
+his lips when he answered his own question. At any rate, the vitally
+important thing now was to gain time, and he was confident that a bold
+front would carry a most attractive and winsome girl past the dangers of
+the morrow.
+
+Oddly enough, as he neared the Grange, the old house itself seemed to
+smile at him in a friendly and encouraging way. The setting sun lent
+warmth to its gray walls and glinted cheerfully from its windows. One
+pane of glass in particular--probably because it had a slightly convex
+surface--a pane in one of the windows of Meg's bedroom, winked
+continuously as his body swayed with each onward stride. It might have
+been saying:
+
+"Leave it to me! Leave it to me! I've watched ten generations of men and
+women passing beneath, and I know how gently Time deals with humanity's
+sorrows."
+
+The idea so obsessed him that he loitered inside the gate, and glanced
+up to see if, by any chance, Marguérite might be in the room and have
+noticed his approach. Yes, she was there! She threw open the window,
+which, in view of what happened within the next half-minute, moved
+upward with a noiseless ease that was absolutely uncanny.
+
+"Dinner is just coming in," she said. "Betty has put some hot water in
+your bedroom, the one opposite this, and you must hurry over your
+toilet."
+
+"I also have good news," he answered gayly. "I've hit on a plan that
+should rout the enemy."
+
+"Which enemy?" she asked in a lower tone.
+
+"The powers that be," and he waved a comprehensive arm to indicate the
+world at large. "By putting back the clock twenty-four hours we defeat
+every sort of combination that can take the field against us. I'll
+propound the scheme at dinner, so prepare to feast with a light heart."
+
+With expressive pantomime she inquired if Percy Whittaker was to share
+their council, and he replied with a nod. He was loth to deprive his
+eyes of the perfect picture she offered there, with her elbows resting
+on the window-sill, her head and shoulders set, as it were, in a frame,
+and the last rays of the sun brightening her pallid cheeks and weaving
+strands of spun gold in her brown hair. But the summons from the kitchen
+was not to be flouted, so he made for the door.
+
+It will be remembered that the hall was lighted directly from the upper
+part of the front door, and the stained-glass window on the half-landing
+of the stairs. Indirectly, its gloom could be dissipated by any one of
+three interior doors, but all of them happened to be closed. Thus, when
+Armathwaite's tall figure appeared in the porch, it effectually withdrew
+the light gained through the glass in the front door until the door
+itself was opened.
+
+He had his hand on the handle when he heard a most weird groaning and
+shrieking caused by the closing of the bedroom window. Practically in
+the same instant he caught an affrighted yell from inside the house, and
+some one shot violently down the stairs and into the hall, falling in a
+huddled heap on the floor. Armathwaite had the door open in a second,
+and found Percy Whittaker lying at the foot of the stairs, while
+Marguérite's voice came in a cry of alarm:
+
+"What is it? What has happened? Percy, is that you?"
+
+By that time Armathwaite had partly raised the fallen man, who did not
+seem to have an atom of breath left in his body. Mrs. Jackson, too, came
+from the kitchen with a lamp, and Marguérite appeared on the stairs.
+
+"What's the matter?" she cried again. "Did Percy fall? Is he hurt?"
+
+"I imagine he missed his footing on the stairs," said Armathwaite
+coolly. "At any rate, he struck the floor with such a thump that he is
+winded.... Now, old chap, pull yourself together! Can't you stand?
+Shall I carry you to a chair?"
+
+In a dazed way Whittaker endeavored to stand upright. At once he uttered
+a croak of agony, and would have collapsed once more if Armathwaite were
+not supporting him.
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed the other, "I'm afraid he is more damaged than I
+thought. Show a light here, Mrs. Jackson. Now, go ahead, and open the
+door of Mr. Whittaker's room if it is closed. I'll take him there, and
+find out the extent of the mischief."
+
+Even in the confusion of the moment Armathwaite noticed that Percy was
+gazing at the wall near the clock with the distended eyes of fear. Mrs.
+Jackson saw it, too, and with the outspokenness of her class, did not
+hesitate to put her thought into words.
+
+"Eh, my, but t' poor young man'll hae seen t' ghost," she cried.
+
+"I--I saw some spook," muttered Whittaker weakly. "Where is it? What was
+it? I'm sure I saw something."
+
+"Go upstairs," Armathwaite commanded Mrs. Jackson angrily. "Or, better
+still, hand the lamp to Miss Meg, and stop talking nonsense."
+
+Quickly he had Whittaker stretched on a bed, and soon ascertained that
+the trouble, whatever it might be, lay in the right ankle. The sufferer
+had taken off the patent-leather boots, and was wearing felt slippers,
+so examination of his injury was no difficult matter. Armathwaite,
+evidently no novice in such emergencies, shook his head when Whittaker
+flinched or cried aloud in pain if a tendon was touched or an effort
+made to twist the foot slightly.
+
+"Put that lamp down," he said to Mrs. Jackson, "and bring me a basin of
+cold water. You, Meg," he went on, "might tear a sheet, or any piece of
+strong linen, into strips about three inches wide. Be as quick as you
+can, please! Every minute saved now may mean a week afterwards."
+
+"What's gone wrong?" whispered Whittaker, when the women had flown. "Is
+it a smash?"
+
+"No, thank goodness! You'd not get over a broken ankle in a hurry. But
+you've collected a very nasty sprain, and possibly lacerated some
+ligaments as well. Fortunately, I know what to do before the joint has
+time to swell. How in the world did you contrive to pitch downstairs?
+The steps are broad, and the grade less than the average."
+
+"I--I didn't fall. That is, I mean I didn't trip or stumble over
+anything. I saw that thing--the ghost--and simply crumpled up. I think I
+must have nearly fainted."
+
+"But, my dear fellow, what you took for a ghost was merely the
+reflection of a painted figure in a stained-glass window."
+
+"It was more than that. I'm not quite a fool. I never saw anything so
+ghastly in my life. Didn't you say that the man was found hanging in the
+hall near the clock? Well, I saw him, I tell you. I had turned the
+corner of the stairs when suddenly the beastly thing loomed up right in
+front of my eyes. Then it groaned most horribly. I couldn't be mistaken.
+I was thinking of nothing of the sort. In fact, I was wondering whether
+Meg would take a sensible view of things, and agree that I did right in
+getting Edie to send for her mater. Then that cursed vision appeared. If
+I didn't see it I'm going dotty. Why, I felt my hair rising, and I
+dropped as though I'd been shot."
+
+"Of course, I can't convince you now," said Armathwaite, "but when you
+are able to get about again I'll show you just what happened."
+
+"Get about again? You don't mean to say I'm crocked for any length of
+time?"
+
+"For a day or two, at least," came the diplomatic assurance. "As soon as
+I've tied a rough bandage we'll send for a doctor, and he will be able
+to give you a definite opinion."
+
+Whittaker groaned, and his eyelids closed wearily over the gray-green
+eyes.
+
+"Oh, d----n this house!" he muttered. "It's bewitched! Why the devil did
+I ever come here?"
+
+Armathwaite bound the injured limb tightly, and enjoined on Whittaker
+the necessity of remaining prone till a doctor arrived. There was little
+call for any such insistence. The unfortunate Percy was suffering enough
+pain already without adding to it by movement. He was persuaded to drink
+some milk, but the mere raising of his head to put a glass to his lips
+caused exquisite torture. Then Armathwaite left him, meaning to appeal
+to Farmer Burt for further assistance. Dinner was not to be thought of
+until a messenger was sent to Dr. Scaife, at Bellerby, and Meg and Mrs.
+Jackson remained with Whittaker in the meantime.
+
+While descending the stairs, Armathwaite gave special heed to the shadow
+cast by the window. It was dimly visible, but it seemed almost
+unbelievable that any person of ordinary intelligence could mistake it
+for a ghostly manifestation. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he
+summoned Betty Jackson.
+
+"Would you mind walking to the front door and standing close to it, so
+as to block the light which enters through the upper portion?" he said
+when she came.
+
+Wondering what he was driving at, she obeyed. Then the true cause of
+Whittaker's fright was revealed. The natural light through the plain
+glass of the door nearly overcame the weaker rays which filtered through
+the colored panes, but, as soon as the doorway was blocked, the figure
+of the Black Prince leaped into a prominence that was almost astounding,
+even to one who looked for some such development. The artist who had
+fashioned the window had followed the canons of medieval art. The
+armored knight, whose face gleamed palely through a raised visor, was
+poised as though standing on tip-toe, and a rib of the window rose
+straightly above his head. Thus, the reflection on the wall bore a most
+striking resemblance to a man hanging from the hook in the china shelf,
+while the sinister shadow deepened markedly when light was excluded from
+the only other source. The discovery of this simple fact not only
+explained the apparition which had sent Percy Whittaker headlong down
+the stairs, but also showed why gaping rustics could terrify themselves
+at will. The closer they peered the more visible became the "ghost."
+Even Betty understood what was happening, though she had not heard the
+orchestral effect of the complaining window-sash.
+
+"Mercy on us!" she whispered in a scared way. "Who'd ever ha' thought of
+the like of that? You must have bin comin' in, sir, the very minnit the
+poor young gentleman put foot on the second flight o' steps, an' that
+thing just lepped at him."
+
+"Between us, at any rate, we have laid the ghost, Betty," said
+Armathwaite. "If Mr. Whittaker complains of increased pain while I am
+out, tell your mother or Miss Meg to pour cold water over the bandage.
+That will give him relief. Perhaps, later, warm fomentations may be
+required, but he is all right now till the doctor sees him."
+
+As he walked a second time to Burt's farm-house, his mind dwelt on the
+singular coincidence that produced the shadow on the wall about the very
+anniversary of the suicide--or murder--which had vexed the peace of
+Elmdale two years ago. To one who was wont to relieve the long nights of
+duty in an Indian frontier station by a good deal of varied scientific
+reading, the mystery of the vision in the Grange was dissipated as soon
+as it was understood. Its occurrence was possible only during a few
+evenings before and after the summer solstice, when the sun had traveled
+farthest north in the northern hemisphere. Its duration was limited to
+ten minutes at the utmost, because the sun sinks rapidly when nearing
+the horizon, and the specter's visits were further curtailed by clouds,
+since strong sunlight and a clear sky were indispensable conditions to
+its appearance.
+
+But, without posing as an authority on stained glass, Armathwaite was
+convinced that the window which had produced this disturbing phenomenon
+was not modern. The elder Walker had spoken of the Grange as a
+"seventeenth-century dwelling," and there was every likelihood that the
+painted effigy of the hero of Crecy had been installed by the original
+builder, who might have cherished the belief that he was a descendant of
+the gallant Edward and the Fair Maid of Kent.
+
+If that was so, the "ghost" has existed, not two Junes, but nearer three
+hundred, and must have been observed and commented upon countless times.
+It was odd that Marguérite Ogilvey had not mentioned the fact
+specifically. It was still more odd that a man should have been found
+hanged in that exact spot. Somehow, Armathwaite thrilled with a sense of
+discovery when that phase of the problem dawned on him. He was still
+turning it over in his thoughts when he reached Burt's farm.
+
+Here he was again fortunate. Some chance had kept the farmer at home,
+and, although the latter had neither man nor horse to spare for a second
+journey to Bellerby, he dispatched a messenger to a laborer in the
+village who owned a bicycle, and was always ready to ride the six miles
+for half a crown.
+
+Armathwaite, of course, had told Burt of the accident, and the farmer
+shook his head sapiently when he heard its cause.
+
+"Ay!" he said. "If I owned yon place I'd rive that window out by t'
+roots. It's done a fair share of mischief in its time--it has, an' all!"
+
+"Do you mean that it has been responsible for other mishaps?" was the
+natural query.
+
+"Yes, sir; three in my time, an' I'm the right side o' sixty yet."
+
+"What were they?"
+
+"I don't remember t' first, because I was nobbut a little 'un, but I've
+heerd my faither tell on 't. Some folk o' t' neäm o' Faulkner lived
+there then, an' one o' their gells, who'd married a man called Ogilvey,
+I think, kem yam (came home) to have her first bairn where her mother
+could look after her. This Mrs. Ogilvey must h' known t' hoos an' its
+ways well enough, but yon spook gev her a bad start one evenin', for all
+that, an' her bairn was born afore time, and she nearly lost her life."
+
+"Are you sure the name was Ogilvey?" broke in Armathwaite.
+
+"Oh, ay! I mind it well, because I've got a dictionary in t' hoose by a
+man o't same neäm."
+
+"What became of this Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"By gum, she cleared off as soon as she and t' youngster could get into
+a carriage, an' never showed her nose i' Elmdale again. Owd Faulkner
+took te drink in his last years, an' had a notion that he and the Black
+Prince could finish a bottle of wine together. One night he was suppin'
+his share as usual on t' stairs, an' he fell backwards over, an' bruk
+his neck. Then there was poor Mr. Garth's case, which ye'll hae heerd
+aboot, mebbe?"
+
+"Yes, I've heard of it," said Armathwaite. "How did Mr. Garth come into
+the property?"
+
+"I don't rightly ken, but folk said it was through yan (one) o'
+Faulkner's married daughters. Gosh! He might ha' bin yon bairn. But, no!
+his neäm 'ud be Ogilvey then."
+
+"Were you ever told why the window should be erected in memory of the
+Black Prince?"
+
+"Ay; the story is that the man who dug the first sod out o' the
+foundations broke ground on the fifteenth o' June, an' some larned owd
+codger said the fifteenth was t' Black Prince's birthday."
+
+"It seems to be rather a slight excuse for such an elaborate window."
+
+Burt looked around cautiously, lest he should be overheard.
+
+"There was queer folk livin' when that hoos was built," he muttered.
+"Happen there's more 'n one sort o' Black Prince. I'm thinking meself
+that mebbe some rascal of a pirate had Owd Nick in his mind when he
+planned yon article."
+
+Armathwaite laughed. He was aware that a belief in witchcraft still
+lingered in these remote Yorkshire dales, but he was not prepared to
+find traces of devil-worship so far afield.
+
+"It's a very interesting matter," he said, "and, when I've got the
+invalid off my hands, I'll inquire further into the historical side of
+it. You see, the style of coloring and craftsmanship should enable an
+expert to date the window within very few years of its actual period.
+Ah, here's your man! I hope he found the bicyclist at home?"
+
+Assurance on that head was soon forthcoming. Armathwaite returned to the
+Grange, and, while going to Whittaker's room, he glanced curiously at
+the wall near the clock. Though a sufficiency of light still came
+through the window, and the mellow colors in a vignette border were
+surprisingly bright, there was not the slightest semblance of an
+apparition in the hall.
+
+But, such was the force of suggestion, after Burt's hint at bygone
+practice of the black arts within those ancient walls, he found now that
+the face framed in the open visor was cadaverous in the extreme, and had
+a sinister and repellent aspect.
+
+Cynic though he was in some respects, as he mounted the creaking stairs,
+he wondered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+ARMATHWAITE STATES A CASE
+
+
+After endeavoring, with no marked success, to console a fretful
+invalid with promises of alleviation of his sufferings by a
+skilled hand--promises made with the best of intent, though
+doomed to disappointment, because the immediate use of a tight
+bandage was precisely the treatment which any doctor would have
+recommended--Armathwaite joined Marguérite in a belated meal.
+
+The spirit of an infuriated cook must have raged in Mrs. Jackson's
+breast when she bade Betty "tell 'em to mak' the best of it, because
+everything is spiled." Nevertheless, they dined well, since Yorkshire
+love of good fare would not permit a real _débâcle_ among the eatables.
+
+Marguérite was utterly downcast when Armathwaite informed her that Percy
+Whittaker would be lucky if he could trust his weight on the injured
+ankle within the next month.
+
+"What a load of misfortune I carried with me yesterday over the moor!"
+she cried bitterly. "Yet, how could I foresee that an interfering woman
+like Edith Suarez would send Percy hotfoot in pursuit?"
+
+"I have formed a hazy idea of Mrs. Suarez from various remarks dropped
+by her brother and you," said Armathwaite. "If it is correct in the
+least particular, I am surprised that she ever let you leave Chester on
+such an errand."
+
+"She didn't. I came away without her knowledge!"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"You needn't say 'Ah!' in that disapproving way. Why shouldn't I visit
+Elmdale and this house if I wanted to?"
+
+"You have quite failed to understand my exclamation. It was an
+involuntary tribute to my own powers."
+
+"If you mean that Edith is a cat, I agree with you. When she hears that
+Percy has fallen downstairs and lamed himself, she won't believe a word
+of it. Before we know where we are she will be here herself."
+
+"We have five bedrooms. The house will then be full," he said placidly.
+
+"Five? Oh! you include my mother in your reckoning. Bob, don't you think
+I ought to telegraph early in the morning and tell her not to come?"
+
+"No. If you adopt the scheme I have evolved for the routing of all
+Walkers and the like, the arrival of your mother will be the one thing
+requisite to insure its complete triumph."
+
+Then he laid bare his project. Stephen Garth was dead and buried. Let
+him remain so. Mrs. Ogilvey herself would be the first to approve of any
+fair means which would save her husband from the probing and prying of
+the police. There was always the probability that he was innocent of any
+crime. Even if, from the common-sense point of view, they must assume
+that he knew of the ghastly secret which the house could reveal sooner
+or later, it did not necessarily follow that such cognizance was a
+guilty one. Thus did Armathwaite juggle with words, until his hearer was
+convinced that he could secure her a respite from the tribulations of
+the morrow, at least, though the graver problem would remain to vex the
+future.
+
+They were yet talking earnestly when the iron hasp of the gate clicked
+in its socket.
+
+"Dr. Scaife!" cried Marguérite, rising hurriedly. Then she bethought
+herself. "I suppose it doesn't really matter now who sees me," she
+added, "and I should so much like to meet him. He is one of our oldest
+friends in Yorkshire."
+
+"Meet him, by all means; but don't forget your new rôle. In fact, it
+would be well if you rehearsed it at once. The doctor will be a valuable
+factor in the undoing of Walker."
+
+The bell rang. Armathwaite himself went to the door. A slightly-built,
+elderly man, wearing a bowler hat and an overcoat, was standing there.
+In the lane beyond the gate gleamed the lamps of a dog-cart, and a groom
+was holding the horse's head.
+
+"I'm Doctor Scaife," announced the newcomer. "I'm told you have had an
+accident of some sort here!"
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite. "Come in, doctor! You've probably heard my
+name--Armathwaite. I've just rented this place for the summer, and a
+young friend of mine, who arrived unexpectedly to-day, had the ill-luck
+to slip on the stairs and sprain his ankle. I've done what I could by
+way of first-aid. I hope you received my message correctly?"
+
+"About the india-rubber bandage, do you mean? Yes, I've brought one.
+Lucky your man caught me. I was just starting for another village; but I
+can make the call on my way home. Where is the patient?"
+
+At that minute the doctor set eyes on Marguérite, who had come to the
+door of the dining-room. Her face was in shadow, because the lamp on the
+table was directly behind her.
+
+"Well, Uncle Ferdie, you dear old thing--don't you know me?" she cried.
+
+Dr. Scaife was not a man of demonstrative habit; but, for once in his
+life, he literally gasped with surprise.
+
+"Meg!" he stammered. "My own little Meg!"
+
+He grasped her hands in both of his. A dozen questions were hovering on
+his lips, yet all he could find to say was:
+
+"Is Mrs. Garth here, too?"
+
+"No; mother comes to-morrow, or next day at latest."
+
+"You intend remaining, I hope?"
+
+"Well, our movements are rather erratic, but we shall have several
+opportunities of meeting you before we go."
+
+Betty appeared, carrying a lamp, which she set on a bracket at the
+corner of the stairs. Scaife, still holding Meg's hand, drew her to the
+light.
+
+"Come here!" he said. "Let me have a good look at you. Prettier than
+ever, 'pon me soul! And how is your dear mother? Where have you buried
+yourself all this time? How long is it? Two years! Never a line to a
+forlorn uncle, even at Christmas! I shan't forgive you to-morrow, but
+I'm so pleased to see you to-night that at present I'll forget your
+neglect."
+
+"Uncle Ferdie, it was not my fault. Mother couldn't bear me to mention
+Elmdale or any of its associations."
+
+"Ah, of course! of course! But time is the great healer. I'll pray for
+continued fine weather, so that her beloved moor may smile on her
+arrival. Well, well! I feel as though I had seen--er--seen a fairy. Mind
+you don't vanish before I come downstairs. I'm ready now, Mr.
+Armathwaite."
+
+The worthy doctor had nearly blundered, but he had executed what
+Americans call a "side-step" neatly enough. Armathwaite smiled at the
+girl. She had passed this initial test with honors. A couple more such
+experiences, and James Walker would be flouted as a mischievous fool if
+he talked of Stephen Garth being alive.
+
+As he piloted the doctor upstairs, Armathwaite glanced at the window of
+ill-omen. The light of the lamp had conquered the external gloaming. The
+leaded divisions of colored glass were apparently of one uniform tint.
+Even the somber figure in black armor had lost its predominance.
+
+Whittaker, who was lying on his back, tried to turn when the two men
+entered his bedroom. He groaned, and said querulously:
+
+"Couldn't you have got here sooner, doctor? I'm suffering the worst sort
+of agony. This confounded ankle of mine must have been tied up all
+wrong."
+
+"We'll soon put that right," said Scaife, with professional
+cheerfulness. "Will you hold the lamp, Mr. Armathwaite, while I have a
+look? What time did the accident happen?"
+
+"Exactly at half-past seven," said Armathwaite.
+
+The doctor consulted his watch.
+
+"Oh, come now, you're really very fortunate, Mr.----"
+
+"Whittaker," put in Armathwaite.
+
+"Ah, yes! Did you mention the name? The mere sight of Meg Garth drove
+everything else from my mind. But it's only a quarter to nine, Mr.
+Whittaker, and a messenger had to reach me at Bellerby, three miles
+away. Hello, who tied this bandage? You, Mr. Armathwaite? Have you had
+hospital training?"
+
+"No; nothing beyond the rough and ready ways of a camp. A friend in the
+Indian Medical certainly taught me how to adjust a strip of lint."
+
+"You shouldn't grumble, young man; you've been looked after in
+first-class style," said the doctor, smiling at Percy. "It may relieve
+your mind if I tell you that I couldn't have done any better myself. Or,
+perhaps, if the pain is very bad, you'll think that the poorest sort of
+consolation. Fortunately, Mr. Armathwaite warned me as to what had
+happened, so I've brought a lotion which will give you some relief. Now,
+tell me when I touch a sore place. I shan't hurt you more than is needed
+to find out exactly where the trouble lies."
+
+In a few minutes Scaife had reached the same conclusion as Armathwaite.
+Indeed, he gave the latter a look which was easily understandable. If it
+were not for the moral effect of his presence on the sufferer, he need
+not have been summoned from Bellerby that night. He applied the soothing
+lotion, however, and substituted a thin, india-rubber strip for the
+linen bandage. Then he and Armathwaite assisted Whittaker to undress,
+and placed him in bed as comfortably as possible.
+
+"Now, I want to assure you that the prompt attention you received
+prevented a very awkward swelling," said the doctor, before taking his
+departure. "You've sprained that ankle rather badly. If it had been
+allowed to swell it would have given you a very nasty time. As it is, if
+you're careful, you'll be able to hobble about in a fortnight."
+
+"A fortnight!" Whittaker almost shrieked. "I can't lie here a
+fortnight!"
+
+"Whether you remain here or not, you'll be lucky if you can put that
+foot on the ground within that time. You may be moved, if you're
+carried, though I don't advise it."
+
+"But it's perfect rot to talk about being stewed up in this room all
+that time," protested the other, his eyes gleaming yellow, and his
+fingers plucking nervously at the bed-clothes. "This isn't my house. I'm
+a stranger here. Besides, there are things I must do. I have to be up
+and about to-morrow, without fail."
+
+Dr. Scaife nodded. He was far too wise a person to argue with an excited
+patient.
+
+"Well, wait till I examine you in the morning," he said. "Sometimes,
+injuries of the sprain order yield very rapidly to treatment. Take this,
+and you'll have a night's rest, at any rate."
+
+He shook some crystals out of a small bottle into a little water, and
+watched Whittaker drinking the decoction.
+
+"Lie quiet now," he went on soothingly. "You'll soon be asleep. If that
+bandage hurts when you wake, you must grin and bear it. I'll be here
+about ten o'clock."
+
+Downstairs, he told Armathwaite that he had given Whittaker a stiff dose
+of bromide.
+
+"Here's the bottle," he said. "If he's awake in half an hour's time, let
+him have a similar lot. Don't be afraid. He can stand any amount of
+it."
+
+Armathwaite smiled, and Scaife smiled back at him. They understood,
+without further speech, that a youngster of pronounced neurotic
+temperament could withstand a quantity of the drug that would prove
+dangerous to the average man.
+
+"Who is he?" continued the doctor. "I haven't seen him here before. Is
+there any difficulty about his remaining in the Grange?"
+
+"He is a friend of Meg's," explained Armathwaite. "She was staying with
+his sister at Chester, and we all reached Elmdale within a few hours of
+one another."
+
+Thus was another pitfall safely skirted. By the time Dr. Scaife was in
+the dining-room and talking to Meg, he had arrived at conclusions which
+were perfectly reasonable and thoroughly erroneous.
+
+In response to Armathwaite, he promised to bring a nurse in the morning,
+as he was confident that the sprain would keep Whittaker bed-ridden at
+least a couple of weeks. Then he took his leave.
+
+"I'll go and sit with Percy a little while now," said Marguérite. "Poor
+fellow! What a shame he should have met with this mishap after his
+gallant walk to-day. Perhaps that is why he fell. His muscles may have
+relaxed owing to over-exertion. Will you ever forgive me, Bob, for all
+the worry I have caused you?"
+
+"No," he said. "I want you to remind me of it so often that we shall
+lose count of the number of times. But, before you go upstairs, let me
+warn you that Dr. Scaife gave our young friend about twenty grains of
+bromide in one gulp. He may be dozing. If he is, don't wake him."
+
+In a couple of minutes she was back in the library, where Armathwaite
+was seated with a book and a pipe.
+
+"He's asleep," she whispered.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it. Now, come and sit down. Are you too tired to
+answer questions?"
+
+"Try me."
+
+"Concerning your change of name--can you explain more definitely how it
+came about?"
+
+"I told you. It was on account of a legacy."
+
+"But from whom? Who was the Ogilvey who left the money? A relative on
+your father's side, or your mother's?"
+
+"Dad's, I understood."
+
+"Did you ever hear of anyone named Faulkner?"
+
+"Yes. Some people of that name lived here years ago. We were distantly
+related. In fact, that is how the property came into dad's possession.
+But he never really went into details. One day he said he had made a
+will, leaving me everything, subject to a life interest for mother, and
+that when he was dead a lawyer would tell me all that I ought to know.
+Then I cried at the horrid thought that he would have to die at all, and
+he laughed at me, and that was the last I ever heard of it. Why do you
+ask?"
+
+"You remember that we promised not to hide anything from one another?"
+
+"Of course I remember."
+
+"Well, then, I think I have hit on a sort of a clew to the Ogilvey part
+of the mystery, at any rate. By the merest chance, while awaiting the
+return of Mr. Burt's man from the village, our talk turned on the
+history of this house. He spoke of the Faulkners, and mentioned the fact
+that the eldest son of a daughter of the family, a Mrs. Ogilvey, was
+born here. That would be some fifty odd years ago. How old is your
+father?"
+
+"Fifty-four."
+
+"The dates tally, at all events."
+
+Meg knitted her brows over this cryptic remark.
+
+"But," she said, "if you imply that my father may be the son of a Mrs.
+Ogilvey, that would mean that his name never was Garth."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Isn't such a guess rather improbable? I am twenty-two, and I was born
+in this very house, and I lived here twenty years except during school
+terms at Brighton and in Brussels, and we were known as Garths during
+all that long time."
+
+Armathwaite blew a big ring of smoke into the air, and darted a number
+of smaller rings through it. The pattern, beautifully distinct at first,
+was soon caught in a current from an open window, and eddied into
+shapelessness. He was thinking hard, and had acted unconsciously, so it
+was with a sense of surprise that he heard the girl laugh
+half-heartedly.
+
+"I've been forming mad and outrageous theories until my poor head
+aches," she said, answering the unspoken question in his eyes. "Some of
+them begin by being just as perfectly proportioned as your smoke-rings,
+but they fade away in the next breath."
+
+"My present theory is nebulous enough," he admitted, "but it is not
+altogether demolished yet. Can you endure a brief analysis of my
+thoughts? You won't be afraid, and lie awake for hours?"
+
+"No. I mean that I want to hear everything you wish to tell me."
+
+"The man who died here two years ago must have resembled your father in
+no common degree. Dr. Scaife is not the sort of person who makes a
+mistake in such a vital matter as the identification of a dead body,
+especially when the subject is an old and valued friend of his. By the
+way, you called him uncle, but that, I take it, was merely an
+affectionate mode of address dating from your childhood?"
+
+"Yes. It's a Yorkshire custom among intimates."
+
+"Have you ever heard of a real uncle--your father's brother--or of a
+first cousin who was very like him?"
+
+"No. I have asked my people about relatives but we seemed to have none.
+Even the Ogilvey of the legacy was never mentioned by either of them
+until mother read me a letter from dad received while we were in Paris."
+
+"Exactly. This testamentary Ogilvey appeared on the scene soon after
+Stephen Garth died and was buried. Your father was well aware of that
+occurrence, because he contrived it. He knew that the man who died was
+coming here, so he sent your mother and you to Paris to get you safely
+out of the way. Now, don't begin to tremble, and frighten yourself into
+the belief that I am proving your father's guilt of some dreadful crime.
+You yourself are convinced that he is incapable of any such act. May I
+not share your good opinion of him, yet try to reach some sort of firm
+ground in a quagmire where a false step may prove disastrous? Suppose,
+Mr. Garth, as he was called at that time, merely got rid of his wife and
+daughter until an unwelcome guest had been received and sent on his way
+again, and that fate, with the crassness it can display at times,
+contrived that the visitor died, or was killed, or committed suicide, at
+the most awkward moment it is possible to conceive, can you not imagine
+a hapless, middle-aged scholar availing himself of the most unlikely
+kind of expedient in order to escape a scandal? Your father is a
+student, a writer, almost a recluse, yet such a man, driven suddenly
+into panic-stricken use of his wits, oft-times devises ways and means of
+humbugging the authorities which an ordinarily clever criminal would
+neither think of nor dare. I am insisting on this phase of the matter so
+that you and I may concentrate our intelligence on the line of inquiry
+most likely to yield results. Let me tabulate my contentions in
+chronological sequence:
+
+     _A._--Mr. Garth received some news which led him to disturb the
+     peaceful conditions of life which had obtained during twenty years.
+     His first care was to send his wife and daughter to a place far
+     removed from Elmdale.
+
+     _B._--Mrs. Garth shared her husband's uneasiness, and agreed to
+     fall in with the plan he had devised.
+
+     _C._--In order to secure complete secrecy, the whole staff of
+     servants was dismissed, practically at a moment's notice, and
+     probably paid liberal compensation.
+
+     _D._--After a week of this gradual obliteration of himself in
+     Elmdale, Mr. Garth is missed, with the inevitable outcome that his
+     dead body is found hanging in the hall, and, lest there should be
+     any doubt as to his identity, a letter is left for the coroner, in
+     which he asserts a thing, which his friend, Dr. Scaife, knew to be
+     untrue, namely, that he was suffering from incurable disease. The
+     statement, conveyed otherwise than in a letter, would have been
+     received with skepticism; it was made with the definite object of
+     giving a reason for an apparent suicide, and leaving testimony, in
+     his own handwriting, that the disfigured body could be that of no
+     other person than Stephen Garth. If a general resemblance of the
+     dead to the living did not suffice--if the wearing of certain
+     clothes, and the finding of certain documents and trinkets, such
+     as a watch and chain, for instance--"
+
+Marguérite, who had been listening intently, could no longer restrain
+her excitement.
+
+"Yes," she cried, "that is so correct that it is quite wonderful. My
+father had a half-hunter gold watch and a chain of twisted leather which
+he wore as long as I can remember. Both had gone when he came to us in
+Paris; when I missed them, and asked what had become of them, he said
+they were lost, much to his annoyance, and he had been obliged to buy a
+new watch in London."
+
+"There is nothing wonderful in treating a watch and chain as the first
+objects which would lead to a man's identification," said Armathwaite.
+"Now, don't let your admiration for the excessive wisdom of the court
+tempt you to interrupt again, because the court has not fully made up
+its own mind and is marshaling its views aloud in order to hear how they
+sound. Where were we? Still in Section D, I think. Well, granted that an
+obtuse policeman or a perplexed doctor refused to admit that Stephen
+Garth was dead, the letter would clinch the matter. Indeed, from the
+report of the inquest, we see that it did achieve its purpose. The
+remaining heads of the argument may be set forth briefly:
+
+     _E._--Stephen Garth is buried at Bellerby, and Stephen Ogilvey
+     steps into new life in Paris, wearing a literary cloak already
+     prepared by many years of patient industry, though no one in
+     Elmdale knew that its well-known resident was a famous writer on
+     folk-lore.
+
+     _F._--After some months of foreign travel, it was deemed safe to
+     return to England, and Cornwall was chosen as a place of residence.
+     The connection between rural Cornwall and rural Yorkshire is almost
+     as remote as the influence of Mars on the earth. Both belong to the
+     same system, and there would be trouble if they became detached,
+     but, otherwise, they move in different orbits; they have plenty of
+     interests in common, but no active cohesion. In a word, Stephen
+     Ogilvey ran little risk in Cornwall of being recognized as Stephen
+     Garth.
+
+     _G._--Mrs. Ogilvey, a most estimable lady, and quite as unlikely as
+     her scholar-husband to be associated with a crime, was a party to
+     all these mysterious proceedings, and the combined object of
+     husband and wife was to keep their daughter in ignorance of the
+     facts for a time, at least, if not forever.
+
+"I don't think I need carry the demonstration any further to-night. You
+are not to retire to your room and sob yourself into a state of hysteria
+because your coming to Elmdale has threatened with destruction an
+edifice of deceit built with such care and skill. I am beginning to
+recognize now a fatalistic element in the events of the past twenty-four
+hours that suggests the steady march of a Greek tragedy to its
+predestined end. But the dramatic art has undergone many changes since
+the days of Euripides. Let's see if we cannot avail ourselves of modern
+methods, and keep the tragic _dénouement_ in the place where it has been
+put already, namely, in Bellerby churchyard."
+
+The girl stood up, and gave him her hand.
+
+"I'm almost certain, Bob, that if you and dad had five minutes' talk,
+there would be an end of the mystery," she said.
+
+"And a commencement of a long friendship, I hope," he said.
+
+Their eyes met, and Meg's steady gaze faltered for the first time. She
+almost ran out of the room, and Armathwaite sat many minutes in utter
+stillness, looking through the window at the dark crest of the moor
+silhouetted against a star-lit sky. Then he refilled his pipe, and
+picked up the book he had taken haphazard from the well-stored shelves
+of that curiously constituted person, Stephen Ogilvey.
+
+It was a solid tome, entitled: "Scottish Criminal Trials," and lay side
+by side with "The Golden Bough," which Marguérite had spoken of, and a
+German work, "Geschichte des Teufels." Turning over the leaves, he found
+that someone had marked a passage with ink. The reference had been noted
+many years ago, because the marks were faded and brown, but the
+paragraph thus singled out had an extraordinary vivid bearing on the
+day's occurrences.
+
+It read:
+
+     "A statute of James I., still in force, enacts that all persons
+     invoking an evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with,
+     entertaining, employing, feeding or rewarding any evil spirit,
+     shall be guilty of felony and suffer death."
+
+Instantly there flitted before Armathwaite's vision a picture of the
+besotted Faulkner offering libations of wine to the black figure
+scowling from the stained-glass window. Perhaps the old toper had been
+lifting his head in a final bumper when he fell backward down the stairs
+and broke his neck.
+
+Armathwaite shut the book with a bang. When he went out, he found that
+Betty had forgotten to leave a candle in the hall, and he must either
+go upstairs in the dark or carry with him the lamp still burning on its
+bracket.
+
+He glared steadily at the dull outline of the effigy in armor.
+
+"I'm not superstitious," he muttered, "but if I could have my own way
+with you, my beauty, I'd smash you into little bits!"
+
+Then, to show his contempt for all ghouls and demons, he extinguished
+the lamp, and felt his way by holding the banisters. It was creepy work.
+Once, he was aware of a curious contraction of the skin at the nape of
+his neck. He turned in a fury, and eyed the window. Now that no light
+came from the hall, some of its color was restored, and certain blue and
+orange tints in the border were so perfect in tone that he was moved
+from resentment to admiration.
+
+"Not for the first time in the history of art, the frame is better than
+the picture," he thought. "Very well, you imp of darkness, some day, and
+soon, I hope, we'll dislodge you and keep your setting."
+
+He did not ask himself whom he included in that pronoun "we." There was
+no need. The mighty had fallen at last. He loved Marguérite Ogilvey, and
+would marry her if she would accept him though her parents had committed
+all the crimes in the calendar, and her ancestors were wizards and
+necromancers without exception.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE
+
+
+James Walker, the younger, took thought while his cob paced the eight
+miles between Elmdale and Nuttonby. In the result, he changed his plans
+if not his intent. Pulling up outside the office of Holloway & Dobb, he
+signaled a clerk who peered out at him through a dust-laden window. It
+is a singular fact that more dust gathers on the windows of offices
+occupied by respectable country solicitors than on the windows of all
+other professional men collectively.
+
+"Would you mind asking Mr. Dobb to come and see me for a minute on
+important business?" he said when the clerk came out.
+
+After befitting delay, Mr. Dobb appeared. He was portly and
+bespectacled, and not inclined to hurry. Moreover, he did not make a
+practice of holding consultations with clients in the street. It needed
+a man of county rank to prefer such a request, and Mr. Dobb,
+Commissioner for Oaths, and leading solicitor in Nuttonby, was very much
+astonished when he heard that "young Walker, the auctioneer," had
+invited him to step outside.
+
+"Well, what is it?" he inquired stiffly, standing in the doorway, and
+clearly resolved not to budge another inch.
+
+"Sorry to trouble you, sir," said Walker humbly, "but I can't leave this
+pony when so near his stable. He'd take off on his own account."
+
+Dobb, though slightly mollified by an eminently reasonable explanation,
+did not offer to cross the pavement, so Walker, after glancing up and
+down the street to make sure that no passer-by could overhear, continued
+in a low tone:
+
+"I've just come from the Grange, Elmdale, and saw Miss Meg Garth there.
+She passed a remark which seemed to imply that her father is still
+living, and got very angry when I told her that he was dead and buried
+two years ago."
+
+Mr. Dobb descended from the doorway quickly enough then. Resting a fat
+hand on the rail of the dash-board, he looked up into Walker's red face.
+The scrutiny was not friendly. He was sure that the junior member of the
+firm of Walker & Son had been drinking.
+
+"Do you know what you are talking about?" he said, sternly.
+
+Walker leaned down, until his ferret eyes peered closely into those of
+the angry solicitor.
+
+"That's why I'm here, sir," he said, with the utmost deference of
+manner. "Of course, I'm aware that you represent the family--at any
+rate, with regard to the Elmdale property--and when Miss Meg herself
+said that her father was alive, and flew into a rage when I ventured to
+correct her, what was I to think? I admit I was knocked all of a heap,
+and may have put things rather bluntly, but there cannot be the
+slightest doubt as to what she meant. More than that, her cousin, Mr.
+Robert Armathwaite, bore out her statement, and got so mad with me for
+stickin' to it that Mr. Garth had committed suicide, that we almost came
+to blows."
+
+Walker was quite sober--the solicitor had no doubt on that score now.
+Perhaps vague memories stirred in the shrewd, legal mind, and recalled
+certain curious discrepancies he had noted in events already passing
+into the limbo of forgetfulness. He, too, looked to right and left, lest
+some keen-eared citizen should have crept up unobserved.
+
+"Can't you take your trap to the stable and come back here?" he asked,
+thereby admitting that Walker's breach of decorum was condoned.
+
+"That's really what I had in mind, sir. I was afraid you might have left
+the office before I was at liberty, as I have a few matters to attend to
+when I reach our own place, and I didn't want to intrude by callin' at
+your house."
+
+Dobb was watching him critically, and was evidently becoming more
+puzzled each moment.
+
+"I need hardly tell you that you are bringing a very serious charge
+against someone," he said at last.
+
+"No, that I'm not!" cried Walker emphatically. "I'm just telling you the
+plain facts. It's not my business to bring charges. I thought, in
+reality, that I was doing someone a good turn by comin' straight to you;
+but, if you don't agree, Mr. Dobb----"
+
+"No, no, I didn't mean my remark in that sense," explained the solicitor
+hastily, not without a disagreeable feeling that this perky young
+auctioneer seemed to know exactly what he was about. "I only wanted you
+to understand that grave issues may be bound up with an extraordinary
+story of this nature. Look here! I'm busy now. Will you be free at six
+o'clock?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, come to my house, and we'll discuss matters fully. You say you
+saw and spoke to Miss Meg herself?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! No mistake. I've known her all my life."
+
+"Very well, then. Don't be later than six. I have some people coming to
+dinner at seven."
+
+Walker saluted with the switch he carried instead of a whip, clicked his
+tongue at the cob, and rattled away down the High Street. Dobb looked
+after him dubiously. He had been friendly with the Garths, and James
+Walker, junior, was almost the last person in Nuttonby he would have
+entrusted with any scandal or secret which affected them. However, in
+another hour, he would endeavor to gauge the true value of Walker's
+information. It might be a cock and bull yarn, in which case it would be
+a pleasure to sit on Walker heavily. Meanwhile, he would avail himself
+of the opportunity to go through certain papers in his possession, and
+come to the forthcoming interview primed with the facts.
+
+Every Thursday evening, at half-past five, the proprietor, editor, and
+manager of the _Nuttonby Gazette_--a journalistic trinity comprised in
+one fussy little man named Banks--looked in at Walker and Son's office
+for the "copy" of the week's advertisements, Mr. Banks being then on his
+way back to the printing-works after tea. Thus, he killed two birds with
+one stone, since the Walkers not only controlled a good deal of
+miscellaneous advertising, but, moving about the countryside as they did
+in the course of their business, often gave him news paragraphs not
+otherwise available.
+
+Young Walker, of course, was prepared for this visit. Indeed, it loomed
+large in the scheme he had embarked on. Hurrying home, he changed into
+a suit of clothes calculated to impress Gwendoline Dobb, the solicitor's
+only unmarried daughter, if he met her, and then strolled to the High
+Street sanctum of the firm. Not a word did he say to his father as to
+happenings at Elmdale. The old man was altogether too cautious, he
+thought, and would assuredly tell him to shut his mouth, which was the
+last thing he meant to do where Meg Garth and her "bounder of a cousin"
+were concerned.
+
+Thus, when Banks hurried in, and asked the usual question: "Anything
+fresh, gentlemen?" Walker, senior, was by no means prepared for the
+thunderbolt which his son was about to launch.
+
+The older man told the journalist that Lady Hutton was giving a special
+prize for honey at the next agricultural show; that hay had been a
+bumper crop in the district; and that mangel wurzel was distinctly
+falling out of favor, items of an interest to Nuttonby readers that far
+transcended the clash of empires in the Balkans. Banks was going, when
+the son said quietly:
+
+"By the way, you might like to mention that a Mr. Robert Armathwaite, a
+relative of the former occupants, has rented the Grange, Elmdale,
+probably for a period of twelve months."
+
+"A relative of the Garths, Jim--I didn't know that!" exclaimed his
+father.
+
+"It's right enough. Meg Garth herself told me."
+
+"Meg Garth! Is _she_ here?"
+
+"She's at the Grange. Tom Bland told me she was there, so, after calling
+about those cattle at Bellerby to-day, I drove on to Elmdale and saw
+her."
+
+"Well, of all the surprising things! Then, Mr. Armathwaite must have
+known about the house when he came in yesterday?"
+
+Yesterday! While the three men were gazing at each other in the Walkers'
+office, Armathwaite and Marguérite Ogilvey were escorting Percy
+Whittaker down the moor road, and even wily James Walker, junior, little
+guessed what a whirlwind had enwrapped the new tenant of the Grange
+since, as the older Walker had put it, "he came in yesterday."
+
+"No, I'm jiggered if he did!" cried the younger man viciously.
+"Armathwaite had never heard the name of the place before we mentioned
+it. I'll swear that in any court of law in the land."
+
+"And I'd bear you out," agreed his father. "Not that I can see any
+reason why it should come into court. He paid up promptly, and we have
+nothing to bother about until the next quarter is due."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that," was the well-calculated answer.
+
+"What are you driving at, Jim?"
+
+"This. He's no more Meg Garth's cousin than I am. There's some queer
+game bein' played, and I'm a Dutchman if there isn't a row about it. I
+tell you, Meg Garth is there, alone, and, when I met her, she calmly
+informed me that her father was alive. She nearly jumped down my throat
+because I said he wasn't, and that fellow, Armathwaite, took her part.
+The Jacksons, too, mother and daughter, are mixed up in it somehow. If
+Stephen Garth is living, who is the man that was found hanged in the
+Grange two years ago, and why is he buried in Bellerby churchyard in
+Stephen Garth's name?"
+
+"I say, Jim, you should be careful what you're saying."
+
+Walker, senior, was troubled. He, like Dobb, fancied that strong liquor
+was inducing this fantasy, yet his son seldom erred in that respect;
+to-day his manner and appearance gave no other signs of intemperance.
+
+"I'm tellin' you just what took place. Who should know Meg Garth if _I_
+didn't? She called Armathwaite 'Bob,' and he called her 'Meg,' and they
+were as thick as thieves; but they left me in no doubt as to old Garth
+bein' still on the map. In fact, we had a regular row about it."
+
+"By Jove!" cried Banks, moistening his thin lips with his tongue. "This
+promises to be a sensation with a vengeance. Have you told the police?"
+
+"No. It's not my business."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that. Why, man, Stephen Garth left a letter for the
+coroner. Dr. Scaife was inclined to question the cause of death, but Mr.
+Hill closed him up like an oyster. Don't you see what it means? If
+Stephen Garth is living now, some unknown man was murdered in the
+Grange. He could neither have killed himself nor died from natural
+causes, since no one in their senses would have tried to conceal his
+death by letting it appear that they themselves were dead."
+
+Mr. Banks expressed himself awkwardly, but his deduction was not at
+fault, and left his hearers under no doubt as to its significance. His
+eyes glistened. He could see the circulation of the _Nuttonby Gazette_
+rising by thousands during the next few weeks, and at a time, too, when
+people were generally too busy to read newspapers, or buy extra copies
+for dispatch to friends in other parts of the country. What a thrice
+happy chance that this thing should have come to light on a Thursday
+evening! There was nothing in it yet that he dared telegraph to the
+morning newspapers in York and Leeds, but, by skillful manipulation, he
+could make plenty of it for his own sheet.
+
+"But it simply can't be true!" bleated Walker, senior, in a voice that
+quavered with sheer distress.
+
+"What isn't true?" demanded his son. "You don't doubt what I'm tellin'
+you, do you? Ask Tom Bland if Meg Garth isn't in Elmdale. He saw her,
+and she nodded at him through a window, but, when he asked about her,
+that pup, Armathwaite, swore she wasn't there, and that Bland had seen
+some other young lady. He couldn't take that line with me, because he
+was out when I called, and Meg and I were at it, hammer and tongs, when
+he came in."
+
+"At what, hammer and tongs?" gasped his father distractedly.
+
+"Arguin' about old Garth, she sayin' he was alive and well, and makin'
+out I was lyin' when I said he was dead."
+
+"Excuse me, gentlemen, I must be off," said Banks, and the man who was
+still sore from the grip of Armathwaite's hands and the thrust of
+Armathwaite's boot knew that the first direct assault on the stronghold
+of Meg Garth's pride had begun.
+
+"Look here, young fellow," said Walker, senior, recovering his wits with
+an effort, "you've set in motion more mischief than you reckon on. I
+wish to goodness you hadn't blurted out everything before Banks. You
+know what he is. He'll make a mountain out of a molehill."
+
+"I've found no molehill at Elmdale--don't you believe it," came the
+angry retort. "Why, you ought to have seen my face when Meg sprang that
+tale on me about her father. I just laughed at it. 'Tell that to the
+marines,' I said. By jing, it's no make-believe, though. Between you and
+me, it's as clear as a whistle that Stephen Garth committed a murder,
+and humbugged the whole countryside into thinkin' he had killed himself.
+Just throw your mind back a bit, and you'll see how the pieces of the
+puzzle fit. Mother and daughter get out of the way; servants are
+discharged; the man is brought to the house over the moor from Leyburn,
+just as old Garth escaped and Meg returned, for I'll swear she never
+came through Nuttonby station. Dr. Scaife was the only man who half
+guessed at the truth, but fussy Hill squelched him, all because of the
+letter. Then, neither Holloway & Dobb, nor ourselves were given a free
+hand to deal with the house. Mrs. Garth didn't mean to part with
+it--twig? Of course, Garth daren't show his nose there, but, when he
+pegs out in reality, the other two can come back. It's all plain as a
+white gate when you see through it, and, when we get hold of
+Armathwaite's connection with it, we'll know every move in the game.
+He's in it, somehow, and up to the neck, too. You want to blame me for
+speakin' before Banks, but you've forgotten that Tom Bland told me this
+afternoon he had seen Miss Meg, and that lots of people knew I was there
+later. If she goes round tellin' folk her father isn't dead it would
+soon come out that she and I quarreled about it. Where would I be then?
+When you're not quite so rattled you'll admit that I was bound to speak,
+and that I've chosen just the right way to do it. If the police want me
+now as a witness they'll have to come to me, and that's a jolly sight
+better than that I should go to them. Do, for goodness' sake, give me
+credit for a little common sense!"
+
+And, having an eye on the clock, Walker, junior, bounced out, apparently
+in high dudgeon; but really well pleased with his own Machiavellian
+skill. Indeed, judged solely from a standard of evil-doing, he had been
+most successful. He knew well that Banks would go straight to the local
+superintendent of police, ostensibly for further information, but in
+reality to carry the great news, and set in motion the official mill
+which would grind out additional installments. But Walker's masterstroke
+lay with Dobb, who, in a sense, represented Mrs. Garth and her daughter.
+If Dobb could be brought to appreciate the gravity of the girl's
+statements anent her father--and his reception of Walker's story showed
+that he was prepared to treat it seriously--he would either write to
+Meg, asking her to visit Nuttonby, or go himself to Elmdale. In either
+event, she would be crushed into the dust. The elderly and trustworthy
+solicitor's testimony would carry weight. She could no longer deny that
+Stephen Garth was reputedly in his grave; she would be faced with the
+alternative that her father was an adroit criminal of the worst type,
+because public opinion invariably condemns a smug rogue far more heavily
+than the ne'er-do-well, who seems to be branded for the gallows from
+birth.
+
+Yet, by operation of the law that it is the unexpected that happens,
+James Walker, the second, was fated not to retire for a night's
+well-earned and much-needed repose with a mind wholly freed from
+anxiety.
+
+This came about in a peculiar way. By Mrs. Garth's request, soon after
+her departure from Elmdale, the solicitor invariably addressed her as
+Mrs. Ogilvey. At last, the notion got embedded in Mr. Dobb's mind that
+she had undoubtedly quarreled with her husband long before the latter
+committed suicide, and that the outcome of Garth's death was her speedy
+remarriage! From his recollection of her, she was certainly not the sort
+of woman whom he would credit with such a callous proceeding, but no
+man can spend a lifetime in a lawyer's office without gaining an insight
+into strange by-ways of human nature. The profession necessitates a
+close knowledge of the hidden lives and recondite actions of scores of
+one's fellow-creatures. Mr. Dobb knew a vicar who had committed bigamy,
+and a county magistrate who had been a petty thief for years before he
+was caught. That Mrs. Garth should marry again within a few weeks of her
+husband's burial might indeed be strange, but it sank into a commonplace
+category in comparison with other queer events he could name.
+
+Behold, then, young James arriving at The Beeches--a charming old house
+situated on the outskirts of Nuttonby; the "nut," as was becoming, was
+attired in a nut-brown suit, black shoes, a brown Homburg hat, socks and
+tie to match a shirt with heliotrope stripes, and yellow gloves.
+
+He had passed in at the gate in full view of a couple of girls of his
+acquaintance, and knew that they were glancing over a yew hedge when the
+front door opened and he was admitted. He was shown into a library,
+where Mr. Dobb awaited him. The lawyer motioned him to a chair.
+
+"Now, Mr. Walker," he said curtly, "would you mind telling me exactly
+what happened at Elmdale this afternoon?"
+
+James sat down. Unfortunately, the furniture provided a placid harmony
+in oak, so the seat of the chair was hard, even though it shone with the
+subdued polish of a hundred years of careful use and elbow grease
+applied by many generations of vigorous housemaids.
+
+"With your permission, sir, I--er--think I'd better begin--er--a little
+earlier."
+
+"What's the matter? Isn't that chair comfortable?"
+
+Mr. Dobb was clerk to the magistrates in the Nuttonby Petty Sessions;
+his pet abhorrence was a fidgety witness, and Walker was obviously ill
+at ease.
+
+"The fact is, sir, I'm a bit saddle-galled. If you don't mind----"
+
+"Certainly. Take that easy chair. What occurred 'a little earlier' which
+you think I ought to know?"
+
+Walker had been disagreeably reminded of Armathwaite, but he kept a
+venomous tongue well under control. He told the lawyer the circumstances
+under which Armathwaite, confessedly a complete stranger, had entered
+into the tenancy of the Grange, and described the journey to Elmdale,
+together with the curious behavior of the Jackson family. He was
+scrupulously accurate in his account of the cause and extent of his
+visit that day, even going so far as to admit that there was "a sort of
+a scuffle" between Armathwaite and himself.
+
+Mr. Dobb listened in silence. At the end, he fixed a singularly
+penetrating glance on the narrator.
+
+"In plain English, I suppose," he said, "this man, Armathwaite, bundled
+you out neck and crop?"
+
+"No, sir. Not exactly that. But I couldn't fight him in Miss Meg's
+presence."
+
+"Yet, from what you have told me, I gather that Mr. Armathwaite is a
+gentleman?"
+
+"He has all the airs of one," said Walker.
+
+"And he must have thought you had behaved discourteously to his cousin
+before he would use actual violence towards you!"
+
+"Nothing of the sort, sir. Miss Meg jumped down my throat for no reason
+whatever. Of course, Mr. Armathwaite hadn't heard the beginning of it,
+and may have imagined I was to blame, but I wasn't."
+
+"Perhaps there is an explanation that may be news to you. You are not
+aware, I take it, that Mrs. Garth is now Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"By jing!" cried Walker, rather forgetting himself, "that's the name Tom
+Bland tried to tell me, but he couldn't rightly get his tongue round
+it."
+
+"Probably. But don't you see the bearing this important fact has on
+to-day's proceedings? I have reason to believe that Mrs. Garth and her
+daughter disagreed with Mr. Garth before his death. At any rate, she
+seems to have married again within a very short time, and Miss Meg may
+have fancied that you were trying purposely to insult and annoy her by
+referring to a bygone tragedy. The mere presence of this Mr.
+Armathwaite, who is wholly unknown here, lends color to that assumption.
+He may be a 'cousin' by the second marriage. It is even conceivable that
+Mrs. Ogilvey, as Mrs. Garth now is, did not wish her second husband's
+relatives to know of the way in which her first husband met his death.
+The fact that Mr. Armathwaite rented the Grange can be regarded as
+nothing more than an ordinary coincidence. Isn't it possible, Mr.
+Walker, that you blundered very seriously in thrusting yourself into
+Miss Meg's presence, and forcing an unpalatable revelation on her?"
+
+Walker's red face positively blanched. For one instant his nerve failed
+him.
+
+"I never thought of that," he muttered, in dire confusion.
+
+"It strikes me as a perfectly tenable theory," said Dobb, rising, and
+thereby showing that the interview was at an end. "You took me rather by
+surprise when you called me out of my office this afternoon, but I have
+given the matter some calm reflection in the interim, and have come to
+the conclusion that you found in Elmdale what is vulgarly known as a
+mare's nest."
+
+Walker stood up, too. He realized that he was being dismissed with
+ignominy, and resented it. Thumping an oak table with his clenched fist,
+he cried passionately:
+
+"Not me! You'll see in a day or two, Mr. Dobb, who's makin' the mistake.
+If I'm wrong I'll eat humble pie, but I'm not eatin' any now, thank you.
+I came to you, meanin' to do a good turn to all parties----"
+
+"Restrain yourself, please," broke in the solicitor, speaking with cold
+dignity. "What kind of 'good turn' is it that rakes up bygone troubles,
+and spreads scandalous gossip?"
+
+"You've missed my point entirely, Mr. Dobb," protested Walker. "I
+thought that you, being a friend of the Garths, could drop a quiet hint
+to Miss Meg not to talk about her dead-and-gone father as though he
+might arrive here by the next train--that's all."
+
+"But it is not all. If it were, your attitude would be understandable,
+even praiseworthy. What you are saying indirectly is that Mr. Stephen
+Garth is alive, and that some unknown person lies in Bellerby
+churchyard."
+
+Thus cornered, Walker floundered badly.
+
+"I'm not able to argue with you, sir, and that's the truth," he said.
+"Neither do I want to be drawn into a squabble of this sort. Of course,
+I know nothing of any second marriage; but, even if I did, Miss Meg
+isn't a little girl, who might have forgotten her real father. Look
+here! I stick to my notion, and that's the long and the short of it.
+There's a mystery at Elmdale, and it's bound to come out, no matter what
+difference of opinion there may be between you and me."
+
+A parlormaid entered with a telegram.
+
+"Excuse me one moment," said Mr. Dobb; "that is, unless you wish to go!"
+he added.
+
+Walker was constrained to put on a bold front before the servant.
+
+"I can wait another couple of minutes," he said off-handedly. The lawyer
+smiled; but, for his own purposes, he did not wish to quarrel outright
+with his visitor. He opened the buff envelope, and read, and not even
+the experience of a lifetime served to mask the incredulous dismay which
+leaped to his face.
+
+For the message ran:
+
+     "Have reason to believe that a gentleman passing under the name of
+     Robert Armathwaite is in or near Nuttonby. Kindly make guarded
+     inquiries and wire result.--SIGMATIC."
+
+Now, "Sigmatic" was the code address of a department of the India Office
+in which Mr. Dobb's eldest son held a responsible position. That
+phrase, "passing under the name of," suggested many possibilities to the
+legal mind. Moreover, the fact that a Government department was
+interested, and that the ordinary official channel for investigation was
+not employed, gave him furiously to think. In any event, he had been
+saved from the exceeding unwisdom of treating James Walker too
+cavalierly.
+
+"I'll just answer this, as the messenger is waiting," he said
+pleasantly. "If you're not in a hurry, Mr. Walker, sit down again. I'll
+send in a decanter of sherry and some cigarettes. Help yourself, will
+you?"
+
+He went out. James Walker grinned, and plunged his clenched fists into
+his trousers pockets.
+
+"That telegram knocked old Dobb into a cocked hat," he mused. "Wonder
+what was in it? Something to do with the Garths, I'll bet! Keep a steady
+hand on the reins, Jimmy, my boy, and you'll finish with the best of 'em
+yet!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY
+
+
+There were three bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor of the
+Grange, all nearly of equal size, and remarkably spacious, since they
+corresponded in area with the rooms beneath. Percy Whittaker occupied
+the westerly front room, Marguérite had pre-empted the easterly one, and
+Armathwaite's room lay in the north-east angle. Thus, he was early
+aroused by the morning sun, and was up and about long before Mrs.
+Jackson or Betty put in an appearance. For lack of the bath which he had
+been prevented from ordering through Tom Bland, he splashed in an
+old-fashioned shallow zinc contrivance which reminded him of former days
+in Baluchistan. Crossing the landing afterwards, meaning to look in on
+Percy Whittaker, he glanced at the now oddly familiar black figure in
+the stained-glass window.
+
+At the moment his thoughts were not dwelling on the topic which had
+occupied them, well nigh to the exclusion of all else, since he had
+first set eyes on Elmdale, yet, by some occult influence, no sooner did
+he meet the cold, unseeing glare of the painted effigy than his brain
+began to calculate the significance of certain dates. The _Nuttonby
+Gazette_ dated Saturday, June 22nd, of two years ago, had stated that
+the inquest on Stephen Garth was held at the Fox and Hounds Inn,
+Elmdale, "to-day" (so the enterprising Banks had evidently brought out a
+special edition). Mrs. Jackson and Police Constable Leadbitter had
+deposed to the finding of the body on "Friday evening," which would be
+the 21st. Mrs. Jackson and Betty had last seen Garth alive on the
+Wednesday. Certain post-mortem indications showed that the death had
+taken place that night, the 19th. To-day, Friday, two years later, was
+the 19th! Armathwaite was not a nervous subject, but he was aware once
+more of a creepy sensation when he realized that this sunlit morning
+probably heralded in the fatal anniversary.
+
+Seen in a clear and penetrating light, and closely examined at an hour
+when each line stood out boldly, the face of the figure revealed certain
+peculiarities. Artists in stained glass seldom attempt to convey
+subtleties in flesh tints. At best, their craft is mainly decorative,
+and effects are obtained by judicious grouping of colors, each of a
+distinct tone value, rather than by the skilled merging of light into
+shadow, which is the painter's chief aim. But, in this instance, a
+deliberate attempt had been made to depict features of a truly
+malevolent cast. The oval formed by the open visor of the helmet gave
+scope for the use of an almost invisible casing of lead, which also
+provided the larger outline of the helmet itself, and of an enormous
+raven, with outstretched wings, perched on the crest.
+
+Yet, instead of the youthful and noble countenance which tradition would
+surely ascribe to a gallant prince, the face which peered from the
+casque was that of an evil-minded ascetic. Indeed, the longer
+Armathwaite looked, the more he was convinced that the artist had tried
+to suggest a mere skull covered with dead skin. The nose was pinched,
+and the nostrils were unpleasantly prominent. The lips were mere seams
+of dried parchment, and the cavernous eyes were really two empty
+sockets.
+
+This sinister and ghoul-like visage was totally at variance with the
+remainder of the work. The armor was correct from helm to sollerets,
+with hauberk and corselet, greaves and jambards, while the gauntleted
+hands were crossed, in true warrior fashion, on the hilt of a long,
+straight sword. The vignette border of tendrils and vine-leaves was
+charming in design and rich in well-blended color, and an observer of
+critical taste could not fail to compare the gross offense of the
+portrait with the quiet beauty of its setting. To some minds, there is
+an element in art which denies a true sense of harmony to a distorted
+imagination, and the notion was suddenly borne in on Armathwaite that
+the same hand had never limned that demoniac face and the remainder of
+the window. The one might have been the product of some debauchee
+steeped in the worst excesses of a libidinous society, while the other
+breathed the calm serenity of the Renaissance. Armathwaite had in full
+measure the hunter's instinct which incites mankind to seek out and
+destroy ferocious beasts. If he had a weapon in his hands at the moment
+he would have smashed that diabolical mask out of existence.
+
+The unaccountable spasm passed, and he entered Whittaker's room, to find
+that disconsolate youth lying on his back, wide awake, and staring
+blankly at the ceiling.
+
+"Hullo!" he said cheerily. "Had a good night's rest?"
+
+"Pretty fair," muttered the invalid, turning his eyes dully on the
+other. "That doctor chap doped me, I expect. Anyhow I slept till I heard
+you splashin' in the bath."
+
+"How's the ankle?"
+
+"Rotten. Look here, Mr. Armathwaite, you seem to understand this sort of
+thing. Bar jokes, how long must I remain here?"
+
+"In bed, do you mean?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A week, at least. After that, you may be able to hop about on one leg."
+
+"If _you_ were in my place, would you stop in bed a week?"
+
+"What else could I do? Even walking with a crutch is impossible because
+of the strain on the ligaments."
+
+Whittaker moved involuntarily, and was given a sharp reminder that his
+informant was not exaggerating his disability.
+
+"All right," he said sullenly. "What time is it?"
+
+"About six o'clock. Betty will bring you some tea and an egg before
+seven."
+
+"Miss Ogilvey isn't up yet?"
+
+"No."
+
+Half unconsciously, Armathwaite resented the studied formality of that
+"Miss Ogilvey." He fully appreciated its intent. He was a stranger and
+must be kept at arm's length. Moreover, the crippled Percy held him at a
+disadvantage. The younger man might be as insolent as he
+chose--Armathwaite was muzzled.
+
+"Can I do anything for you," he said.
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Well, if the pain is very bad, an extra bandage, soaked in cold water,
+will relieve the burning sensation."
+
+"No, thanks. I'll wait till the doctor comes."
+
+"He is bringing a nurse, by the way. You'll need proper attention for
+the next few days."
+
+"Right. Don't let me keep you. I think I can sleep another hour or so."
+
+Armathwaite was at no loss to understand why the cub wished to be rid of
+him. Whittaker was not only torturing himself with the knowledge that
+his host would be free to enjoy Marguérite Ogilvey's company without let
+or hindrance, but he also felt a grudge against the fates which had
+snatched him out of active participation in the day's events. Neither
+dreamed that the accident would precipitate the crisis each wished to
+avoid. In fact, in view of what did actually happen, it would be
+interesting to speculate on the probable outcome if, by chance,
+Armathwaite had been disabled instead of Whittaker. But history, whether
+dealing with men or nations, recks little of "what might have been." It
+is far too busily occupied in fashioning the present and concealing the
+past, for, let students dig and delve ever so industriously, they seldom
+obtain a true record of occurrences which have shaken the world, while,
+in the lives of the few people with whom this chronicle deals, there
+were then at work certain minor influences which no one of them ever
+discerned in their entirety. There was nothing surprising in this. A
+crystal-minded woman like Marguérite Ogilvey could never adjust her
+perceptive faculties to the plane of a decadent Percy, while Robert
+Armathwaite was too impatient of ignoble minds that he should ever seek
+to uncover the mole-burrowings of James Walker.
+
+Certain developments took place which affected each and all in relative
+degrees, and each acted according to his or her bent. Beyond that,
+analysis of cause and effect can hardly be other than sheer guesswork.
+
+Armathwaite rummaged in the larder for a crust, chewed it, and, having
+thus appeased the laws of hygiene, lighted the first joyous pipe of the
+morning.
+
+He was smoking contentedly in the garden when a bent, elderly man
+approached. Though twisted with rheumatism--the painful tribute which
+Mother Earth exacts from those of her sons who know how to obtain her
+chief treasures--this man quickened into a new life when he saw
+Armathwaite. He cast a sorrowing glance at the wilderness of weeds as he
+came up the garden path, but his weather-lined face broke into a
+pleasant smile as he halted in front of the new tenant.
+
+"Good mornin', sir," he said, touching his hat, though the action was
+devoid of any semblance of servility. "Things are in a nice mess, aren't
+they?" and he wheeled round to gaze at dandelions rampant in a bed
+sacred to begonias.
+
+"They are, indeed!" agreed Armathwaite, wondering what white-haired
+philosopher had come on the scene.
+
+"You'll be Mr. Armathwaite, I'm thinkin'?" went on the other.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"My name's Smith, sir. Mr. Leadbitter, the policeman, told me you had
+taken on the Grange. Mebbe you'll be wantin' a gardener."
+
+A light broke in on Armathwaite.
+
+"Oh! Begonia Smith!" he cried. "Come back to the old love--is that it?"
+
+"That's it, sir. She looks as if she wanted someone to look after her."
+
+"Very well. Take charge. It's too late in the year to grow flowers or
+vegetables, but you can tidy things up a bit."
+
+"A man who has his heart in the job, sir, can grow flowers at any time
+of the year. If I was to drop a line to the Nuttonby carrier to-night,
+I'd have a fair show of geraniums, calceolarias, lobelia, an' marguerite
+daisies in the front here by to-morrow evenin'."
+
+Armathwaite was not one to check enthusiasm. Moreover, the notion of
+brightening the surroundings appealed to him.
+
+"That would be sharp work," he said, eyeing the jungle.
+
+Smith, with the suspiciousness of an old man eager to show that he was
+as good as some of the young ones, misunderstood that critical survey.
+
+"Before Tom Bland brings the plants from the nursery I'll have a canny
+bit o' soil ready for 'em," he vowed.
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Armathwaite, quickly alive to the aged gardener's
+repudiation of any doubt cast on his powers. "But surely you can be
+better employed than in mere digging. Are there laborers to be hired in
+the village?"
+
+Smith swept the bare meadow-land with the appraising eyes of knowledge.
+
+"Plenty of 'em, sir. The hay is in, an' they'll be slack enough now for
+another month."
+
+"Very well. Send your order to Bland, including such implements as you
+may need. Hire three or four men, and get them busy. By the way, have
+you heard that Miss Meg is here?"
+
+"Miss Meg! Our Miss Meg?"
+
+Smith's astonishment was not feigned. He was slightly dazzled already by
+the way in which his new employer had received suggestions for the
+regeneration of the garden; now, he was thoroughly bewildered.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite, watching him narrowly. "She may join us any
+minute. Of course, if she expresses any preference for a particular
+method of laying out the flower-beds, you will adopt it without
+question."
+
+"Why, sir," said the old man simply, "if it's the same Miss Meg as I
+hev' in mind I'll not charge you a penny for what little I can do about
+the place. It'll be enough for me to see her bonnie face again an' hear
+her voice."
+
+"I'll tell her that," laughed Armathwaite. "But we don't trade on those
+terms. You were happy here, I suppose, before Mr. Garth died?"
+
+"No man could ha' worked for nicer people, sir. It bruk me all to pieces
+when t' maister tellt me to go. An' I never rightly understood it,
+until--until the sad thing happened you'll hev' heerd of. Mr. Garth was
+just as much cut up about me goin' as I was meself--that was the queer
+part of it.... Sir, tell me this, D'you mean to live here any length o'
+time?"
+
+"I hope so."
+
+"Well, it's a bold thing to say, afore I've known ye five minnits, so to
+speak, an' there may be nowt in it other than owd wives' blether, but,
+if you ain't such a great lover o' stained glass, I advise ye to hev'
+yon staircase window riven out by t' roots."
+
+"Now, why in the world do you say that?"
+
+"I can't put it into plain words, sir, an' that's a fact, but I'd be
+glad to see the house shut o' that grinnin' death's head. I well
+remember my own father tellin' me there was a curse in it, an' many's
+the time Mr. Garth laughed at me when I spoke on't. But t' owd man's
+prophecy kem yam (came home) to roost at last. It did, an' all."
+
+"What reason did your father give for his belief?"
+
+"It's a strange story, sir, but I know bits of it are true, so mebbe the
+rest isn't so far out. D'you see yon farm?" and Begonia Smith pointed to
+the Burt homestead.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite. "I met Mr. Burt yesterday."
+
+"It's built on the ruins o' Holand Castle, sir. It's barely ten years
+ago since Mr. Burt used the last o' t' stones for his new barn. These
+Holands were descended from a lady who married Edward, the Black Prince.
+She had three sons by her first husband, an' one of 'em kem to this part
+o' Yorksheer. As was the way in them days, he set a church alongside his
+castle, and was that proud of his step-father, who would ha' bin King of
+England had he lived, that he had that painted glass window med in his
+memory. In later times, when there was a cry about images, the owner of
+Holand Castle had the window taken out an' hidden. Then, to please
+somebody or another, he set fire to t' church. After that, things went
+badly with him, an' the castle was deserted, because it had the plague,
+though I'm thinking the only plague was bad drainage. Anyhow, nigh on
+two hundred year ago, a man named Faulkner settled i' this quiet
+spot--you can guess what it was like, sir, when there was no railways,
+an' the nearest main road ran through Leyburn on t' other side o' t'
+moor. This Faulkner had gathered his brass in no good way, robbin' ships
+an' killin' folk on the high seas, it was said. He used to import
+hogsheads o' wine all the way from Whitby, an' rare good wood was in
+'em, because I saw the last of 'em used as a rain barrel, an' I'm not
+seventy yet. The story goes that one night, in his cups, he was annoyed
+by the way the Black Prince looked at him, hard an' condemning like a
+judge. He got a pair o' big pistols, an' fired one at the Prince's face.
+He shot the eyes out, an' then aimed the second one at the mouth, but
+that burst, and blew his own right hand off, an' he bled to death afore
+they could plug the veins. His son, who was a chip o' t' owd block,
+hired a drunken artist to paint another face. This man knew nowt about
+stained glass, but he was a rare hand at drawin' terrible things, so he
+planned yon devil's phiz on oiled paper, an' stuck it between two thin
+plates o' glass, an' it was leaded in. If you was to climb on a ladder
+you'd find the difference at once between that part o' t' window an' all
+t' remainder. Many's the time I've seen it when nailin' up the wistaria,
+an', if I'd dared, would have put the hammer-head through it. But Mr.
+Garth refused to have it touched. He called it an antiquarian
+curiosity. All the same, he wouldn't have Miss Meg told about it,
+because it might have frightened her but he was always careful to see
+that the blind was not drawn across the front door on June evenings.
+Mebbe, you'll have heerd of a ghost, sir?"
+
+A window was raised, and both men looked up. Marguérite was leaning out,
+her face aglow with pleasure.
+
+"Why, if it isn't my own dear Smith!" she cried. "What lucky wind
+brought _you_ here? Mr. Armathwaite, is this _your_ doing? Smith, I'll
+be down in a jiffy. Mind you don't skedaddle before I come!"
+
+Thus it befell that when Betty Jackson brought an early breakfast to
+Percy Whittaker, and she was asked where Miss Meg was, she answered:
+
+"Out in the garden with Mr. Armathwaite. They're talkin' to Begonia
+Smith."
+
+"Ah, I heard the voices. And who, pray, is Begonia Smith?" demanded
+Percy.
+
+"The old gardener," said Betty. "He was here years an' years."
+
+"Does Mr. Armathwaite mean to have the grounds attended to?"
+
+"Looks like it, sir. He an' Miss Meg are measurin' bits, an' Smith's
+stickin' in pieces of wood. It'll be nice to have the place kept spick
+an' span again."
+
+It was, perhaps, unfortunate that Meg's glimpse of her friend from the
+bedroom window should have brought her downstairs pell-mell without even
+a tap on Whittaker's door to inquire as to his well-being. It was
+perhaps, equally unfortunate that, when she remembered her remissness,
+she should have hurried to his room while her cheeks were flushed with
+the strong moorland air and her eyes shining with excitement.
+
+"How are you, Percy dear?" she said, entering in response to his surly
+"Come in!" "I ought to have looked in on you sooner, but I could hardly
+believe my eyes when I saw Mr. Armathwaite in the garden with Smith, our
+own old gardener, whom I've known ever since I was a baby."
+
+"Why has Armathwaite brought Smith here?" said Whittaker, peering at her
+fixedly, yet veiling those gray-green eyes under lowered lids.
+
+"He didn't. Smith just came. But isn't it fortunate? He couldn't have
+found a better man, especially as Smith won't have any of the hard work
+on his hands. Mr. Armathwaite is giving him all the help he needs."
+
+"To put the place in order?"
+
+"Yes, of course. Smith promises marvels by to-morrow evening. But you
+haven't told me yet how your poor ankle feels."
+
+"Never mind my poor ankle, Meg. I understood that the house was only let
+for three months?"
+
+"Oh, much longer, I believe. Mr. Armathwaite----
+
+"Confound Mr. Armathwaite! The devil fly away with Mr. Armathwaite! I'm
+sick of his name: I spit on him!" He literally writhed in a paroxysm of
+anger.
+
+"Percy!"
+
+He had chosen an unhappy word when he spoke of spitting on his rival. He
+reminded her of a toad, and she hated toads.
+
+With a desperate effort he sat bolt upright in the bed.
+
+"It's high time you and I had a few straight words, Meg," he said, and
+his voice lost its drawl, and the blasé manner was dropped. "You haven't
+forgotten, I suppose, that I've asked you to marry me?"
+
+"No. Perhaps, if you rack your memory, you'll remember my answer," she
+said indignantly, for she felt the innuendo, and was resolved to resent
+it with vigor.
+
+"No, oh, no! You said you didn't mean to marry anybody. That is a
+maidenly sentiment which is right and proper, and I agreed with it at
+the time. But the position has altered considerably during the past
+couple of days. As matters stand now, Meg, you may change your mind,
+and I beg to inform you that when you do marry, you'll marry me."
+
+"It is hardly fair to take advantage of your accident," she said, with a
+quiet scorn that only served to infuriate him the more.
+
+"What do you mean?" he said thickly.
+
+"You are not usually so dense. If you were not ill you would never dare
+speak to me in that fashion."
+
+"Never mind my illness. That will soon pass. And the density you
+complain of is not so one-sided as you imagine. I pointed out that the
+position had changed. Two days ago you were free to say 'Yes' or 'No' to
+my proposal. To-day you are not. You've got to marry me now, Meg. You'll
+be my wife by fair means or foul. Need I explain myself further?"
+
+"It--it would be as well."
+
+"All right. You've asked for it, and you'll get it. Unless I have your
+promise here and now that our marriage will take place as soon as I can
+stand on my feet again, I'll have your father arrested for murder."
+
+"Percy, you must be mad even to think of such a dreadful thing!"
+
+"No, not mad, but sane, very sane and wide-eyed. That fellow,
+Armathwaite, wants you, and he'll snap you up while I'm lying in this
+infernal house unless I strike now, and strike hard. I mean exactly what
+I say. I've thought it all out here, though I'm suffering pain enough
+to drive me crazy. But the mind can conquer the body, and my mind is not
+only clear, but fixed. Tell me you'll marry me, and I'll be patient as a
+saint. I'll take your word for it. I don't want you to sit by my side
+and hold my hand, as some sniveling fools would wish. You can plan your
+gardens with Armathwaite, and smile at him and talk with him as much as
+you please. But you've got to be my wife. Refuse, and the only way you
+can save your father from arrest is by getting Armathwaite to commit
+another murder."
+
+"You brute!" she almost whispered. Her lips were quivering pitifully,
+but the fount of tears was dried, and her eyes blazed with an intensity
+that conquered Whittaker for the moment.
+
+He lay back on the pillows again, with a smile that was twisted into a
+rictus of agony as a twinge wrung the injured limb.
+
+"Call me any hard names you like," he muttered, closing his eyes under
+the intolerable contempt and loathing of Marguérite's steadfast
+scrutiny. "I've said what I had to say, and I'll not depart from a
+syllable of it. You'd have married me one of these days if you hadn't
+met Armathwaite. He has turned your pretty little head with his
+knight-errant airs and cavalry officer appearance. So I've determined
+to pull you back by force--see? You'll get over it in time. You and I
+will be as good chums as ever when this gale has blown itself out. Don't
+think I shall hold you less dear because your father placed himself in
+danger of the law. He escaped neatly before, and can escape again. I'll
+even tell you how. No one here knows--"
+
+He opened his eyes again, to ascertain if some dawning interest in the
+project he was about to reveal--which was precisely that already set
+forth by Armathwaite--had driven the horror from her drawn features; but
+Marguérite had vanished. He listened for her footsteps, and could hear
+no sound. He shouted loudly, and tugged frenziedly at a bell. Betty came
+running, thinking he had fallen out of bed, and needed assistance.
+
+"Why, whatever is the matter?" she cried, with true Yorkshire
+abruptness, when she found him lying as she had left him a few minutes
+earlier.
+
+"Where is Miss Meg?" he raged. "Tell her she must come here--at once!
+Tell her that! Use those very words--come at once!"
+
+"My! What a to-do about nowt! I was sure the house was on fire!"
+
+"Confound you, will you go!" he shouted.
+
+"Yes, I'll go! For goodness' sake, keep quiet. You're doing yourself no
+good by gettin' that excited. Oh, you needn't bawl at me! I'll find
+her. It isn't such a big place that she can be lost for more'n a minnit
+or two."
+
+Grumbling audibly at the funny ways some folk had, to be sure, Betty
+went downstairs. She looked into the drawing-room, dining-room, and
+library, but Marguérite was in none of those places. Then she passed out
+into the garden; through the open window Whittaker could hear her asking
+Armathwaite if he knew where Miss Meg was. He caught the answer, too.
+
+"Yes. She left me to visit Mr. Whittaker."
+
+"She's not there, sir, and he has just sent me for her in an awful
+hurry," said Betty.
+
+"Is it anything I can do for him?"
+
+"No, sir. He wants Miss Meg."
+
+"Well, she can't be far away. She may be in her bedroom. Go and look
+there. If I see her, I'll hand on your message."
+
+Soon, when Betty had ransacked the house, she came to the conclusion
+that Marguérite had gone into the village. For some reason, on hearing
+this, Whittaker appeared to be calmer, and only growled an order that he
+was to be informed instantly of Miss Garth's return. Betty retreated to
+the kitchen. When the door was safely closed she said to her mother:
+
+"That Percy Whittaker is daft, an' it's easy to see what ails him. If I
+was Miss Meg I wouldn't have him if he was hung with diamonds."
+
+"You're nobbut a fond lass," commented Mrs. Jackson, cracking an egg on
+the side of a basin preparatory to emptying its contents into a
+frying-pan. "Always thinkin' of young men, like the rest of 'em. Poor
+Meg Garth has other things to bother her. If you hadn't lost a good
+father when you were too little to ken owt about it, you'd know what
+she's goin' through now."
+
+"But she says her father is livin'," said Betty.
+
+"Tell me summat fresh," retorted her mother. "Wouldn't it be better for
+her if he wasn't? You mark my words. There'll be a bonny row i' this
+house afore we're much older. Now, hurry up with t' toast. No matter
+what else happens, folk mun eat."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+DEUS EX MACHINA
+
+
+After a while, Betty came to Armathwaite again.
+
+"If you please, sir, breakfast is ready. Shall I bring it in, or will
+you wait for Miss Meg?" she said.
+
+That a second inquiry as to Marguérite's whereabouts should be necessary
+seemed to surprise him.
+
+"You were looking for Miss Garth a few minutes ago. Didn't you find
+her?" he inquired.
+
+"No, sir. She's not in the house."
+
+"But what can have become of her?"
+
+"I thought, sir, she might ha' gone into t' village."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"She knows everybody i' t' place. She said last night that now she was
+makin' a bit of a stay she'd be seein' some o' t' folk."
+
+"I think I should have noticed her if she had gone out by the gate," he
+said, weighing the point. "Smith!" he called, "has Miss Meg left the
+house recently--within the past ten minutes, I mean?"
+
+"Not that I know of, sir," said Smith; "but I'm that worritted by the
+state of some o' these here beds that ammost owt (almost anything) might
+ha' happened without me givin' it heed."
+
+"Bang that gong at the front door," said Armathwaite to Betty. "It
+should be heard in every house in Elmdale, and she will understand."
+
+The gong was duly banged, and its effect on Elmdale was immediately
+perceptible. Old Mrs. Bolland vowed afterwards that she would sit
+permanently at the back bedroom window, because, being rheumaticky, she
+couldn't get upstairs quickly enough, and there was summat to see
+nowadays at t' Grange.
+
+But the tocsin failed to reach the one ear for which it was intended.
+The village produced every live inhabitant except Marguérite Ogilvey.
+
+"Was Miss Meg friendly with the Burts?" inquired Armathwaite, when he
+and Betty realized it was useless to gaze expectantly either at the
+corner of the roadway visible from the porch, or at such small
+cross-sections of the village "street" as could be seen at irregular
+intervals between the houses.
+
+"Yes, sir. She'd often walk over there," said the girl, gazing at once
+in the direction of the Castle Farm, which was the name of the holding.
+
+"She would know that breakfast was on the way?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I axed her meself when I brought her a cup of tea. She
+said that nine o'clock would suit."
+
+Betty turned involuntarily to consult the grandfather's clock in the
+hall. The hands stood at ten minutes past nine; but, in the same moment,
+she remembered that the clock was not going. Armathwaite followed her
+glance, and looked at his watch.
+
+"Ten minutes past nine," he answered, with a laugh. "The old clock is
+right to a tick. Was it in use while the Sheffield lady remained in the
+house?"
+
+"No, sir. It stopped at that time when the old man died."
+
+Then she giggled. There is hardly a man or woman in Yorkshire who does
+not know that the words of a famous song were suggested by the behavior
+of a clock which is still exhibited in an inn on the south side of the
+Tees at Pierce Bridge, and the girl had unconsciously repeated the tag
+of verses and chorus.
+
+Armathwaite had yet to learn of this treasured possession of the county
+of broad acres, so he eyed Betty rather disapprovingly. Moved by an
+impulse which he regarded as nothing more than a desire to check such
+undue levity, he strode into the hall, found a key resting on a ledge
+of the clock's canopy, wound up the heavy weights, and started the
+pendulum.
+
+"Perhaps our ancient friend may be more accurate than you, Betty," he
+said. "You mean, I suppose, that it stopped at that time because it was
+not wound. How do _you_ know the hour, or even the day, anyone died
+here?"
+
+"Well, I don't, sir, an' that's a fact," she admitted. "But what about
+breakfast?"
+
+"Attend to Mr. Whittaker--I'll wait!"
+
+He went out again, and saw Smith hobbling down the bye-road.
+
+"Hi!" he cried, "if you're going into the village you might ask if
+anyone has seen Miss Meg!"
+
+Smith replied with a hand wave. He was thinking mainly of begonias,
+planning a magician's stroke, because his new master had told him to
+spare no expense. Within ten minutes he returned, but not alone. Four
+able-bodied rustics came with him, each carrying a spade or a garden
+fork. But he had not forgotten Armathwaite's request.
+
+"Miss Meg hasn't gone that way, sir," he said. "Plenty of folk saw her
+in t' garden, an' they couldn't ha' missed her had she been in t'
+street. But she'll be comin' i' now. No fear o' her bein' lost, stolen,
+or strayed i' Elmdale. These chaps are good for a day's diggin' at four
+shillin' an' two quarts o' beer each. Is that right, sir?"
+
+"Make it five shillings and no beer," said Armathwaite.
+
+The laborers grinned.
+
+"No beer is even to be bought during working hours," he added sharply.
+"You can work harder and longer on tea. You may have all the tea, milk,
+bread and cheese you want, but not a drop of beer, this day or any other
+day, while at work here. I know what I am talking about. I am no
+teetotal fanatic, but I've proved the truth of that statement during
+many a day of more trying labor than digging soft earth."
+
+The terms were agreed to without a murmur. The incident, slight as it
+was, had its bearing on the day's history. Smith was leading his cohort
+to the attack, when one of the men, apparently bethinking himself,
+approached Armathwaite and touched his cap.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but was ye axin' about Miss Meg?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I seed her goin' up t' moor road nigh on half an hour sen"
+(since).
+
+The Grange itself was the only house on the moor road for many a mile,
+and it was most unlikely that Marguérite would take a protracted stroll
+in that direction at such an hour. Somehow, Armathwaite was aware of a
+chill in the air which he had not felt earlier. It was his habit to
+disregard those strange glimpses of coming events, generally of
+misfortune, which men call premonitions. When confronted by accomplished
+facts, he acted as honor and experience dictated; for the rest, he said,
+with Milton--
+
+                                "I argue not
+    Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
+    Of heart and hope; but still bear up and steer
+    Right onward."
+
+But this all-sufficing rule of conduct had availed him little from the
+moment he crossed the threshold of the Grange. Right well had it served
+him in the strenuous years of vigilant governance now so remote; since
+his coming to Elmdale he seemed ever to be striving against shapeless
+phantoms. He had sought quiet and content in that peaceful-looking
+village; he had found only care and gnawing foreboding, brightened, it
+is true, by a day-dream, which itself left bitter communing when it
+waned. For he was his own severest censor. He regarded himself as one
+already in the sere and yellow leaf. Fortune had called him to the high
+places only to cast him forth discredited, if not humbled. That he, a
+man who believed he had done with the great world, should think of
+allying his shattered life with the sweet and winsome creature whose
+feminine charm was enhanced by a frank girlishness, was a tantalizing
+prospect which, like the mirage in a desert, merged with the arid wastes
+when subjected to close scrutiny. With Marguérite near, reason fled, and
+all things seemed possible; when the thrall of her presence was
+withdrawn, cold judgment warned him that gratitude for help rendered
+should not be mistaken for love.
+
+He felt now that another crisis had arisen, yet the past yielded no ray
+of guidance. He glared at the poor laborer who, all unconsciously, was
+fate's herald in this new adversity, for he was instantly aware, without
+other spoken word, that Marguérite Ogilvey had fled. The man's troubled
+face showed that he feared he had done wrong.
+
+"I'm main sorry, sir," said he, "if I've said owt te vex ye, but,
+hearin' the talk of Miss Meg, I thought----"
+
+Armathwaite's drawn features relaxed, and he placed a friendly hand on
+the villager's shoulder.
+
+"You've done right," he said. "I am very much obliged to you. I have a
+stupid habit of allowing my mind to wander. Just then I was thinking of
+something wholly unconnected with Miss Garth's disappearance, which will
+arouse Mrs. Jackson's wrath because of bacon and eggs frizzled to a
+cinder. I must go and condole with her."
+
+He was turning to re-enter the house, mainly to set at rest any
+suspicion that Marguérite's absence arose from other cause than sheer
+forgetfulness, when the clang of the gate stayed him. A youth had
+dismounted from a bicycle, and was hastening up the path with an air of
+brisk importance.
+
+"Telegrams for Garth and Whittaker," he said. "Any answer, sir?"
+
+Armathwaite took the two buff envelopes which the lad produced from a
+leather pouch.
+
+"Have you come from Bellerby?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, wait a few minutes. There may be some reply."
+
+He went into the dining-room. So sure was he that Marguérite had gone
+away that he had not the slightest hesitation about opening the telegram
+addressed to "Garth, The Grange, Elmdale." As he anticipated, it was
+from Mrs. Ogilvey. It had been dispatched at seven o'clock from
+Tavistock, and read:
+
+     "Arriving to-night if possible. Don't take any action until I am
+     with you.--MOTHER."
+
+The early hour at which it had been sent off--from a town, too, which
+he rightly estimated as a good many miles distant from Warleggan, showed
+that Mrs. Suarez had contrived to get a telegram through to Cornwall the
+previous night, so Percy Whittaker's mischievous interference had proved
+quite successful.
+
+Then, with lightning clarity came the belief that Percy Whittaker was
+responsible for Marguérite's flight. Armathwaite scouted the notion that
+she had such a thing in her mind when she came to him in the garden. Her
+nature was incapable of guile. Had she formed some fantastic scheme
+during the watches of the night she would never have put her troubles
+aside to share in his light-hearted planning of a new and glorified
+garden. In fact, he recalled her sudden dismay because of her seeming
+neglect of the invalid, and now he knew that he had not seen her since
+she went upstairs, whereas Whittaker himself had sent more than one
+urgent summons for her subsequently.
+
+Stifling his fury as best he might, Armathwaite hurried to Whittaker's
+room.
+
+"A telegram has just come for you," he said, and watched the younger
+man's face as he read. It was a long screed, and evidently bored its
+recipient.
+
+"Oh, it's only from my sister," came the languid explanation. "By the
+way, where's Miss Garth?"
+
+"Gone, I think."
+
+"Gone!" Whittaker rose on an elbow and glowered at Armathwaite. "What
+the devil do you mean by 'gone'? Where has she gone to?" he cried.
+
+"I want you to answer that question," and Armathwaite's voice was
+strangely harsh and threatening. "She came to you half an hour ago. Did
+you say anything likely to distress her? Tell me the truth, or I'll
+pound your face to a jelly."
+
+His aspect had suddenly become so menacing that Whittaker wilted; his
+head sank back to the pillow, and his eyelids twitched with fright.
+
+"That's no way to talk----" he began, but the other seized him by the
+shoulder with his left hand and clenched his right fist suggestively.
+
+"You think I ought not to threaten you with violence because you are
+lying there helpless," was the savage interruption; "but, if you have
+not forgotten the ways of Ind, you must know that a poisonous snake is
+never so venomous as when disabled. Speak, now, and speak truthfully,
+or, as sure as God is in heaven, I'll strike!"
+
+There was no withstanding the set purpose revealed by those blazing
+eyes, and Whittaker was so alarmed that he dared not attempt to lie.
+
+"I--I've asked Meg--half a dozen times--to marry me," he stuttered, "and
+this morning--I told her--she'd have to consent--now."
+
+"Why now?" and the fierce grip tightened, drawing the livid face nearer.
+
+"Because--she must."
+
+"Explain yourself, you dog!"
+
+"I--I was afraid of your influence, so I warned her--that if--she wanted
+to save her father.... Ah! Let go! Curse you, let go! You're breaking my
+bones!"
+
+That eldritch scream restored Armathwaite's senses. It startled the men
+in the garden. It brought Mrs. Jackson and Betty running from the
+kitchen. Happily, Armathwaite struck no blow. He flung off Whittaker's
+limp body as though he were, indeed, one of the vicious reptiles to
+which he had compared him.
+
+"You _sug_!" he breathed, using the bitterest term of contempt known to
+the East, for the Persian word means all that the Anglo-Saxon implies
+when he likens a fellow-creature to a dog, with the added force of an
+epithet which signifies "dog" in that despicable sense, and in none
+other.
+
+Striding down the stairs, his fire-laden glance met the ghastly smile of
+the painted figure. With an active bound, he was on the window ledge,
+and the clenched fist which had ached to scatter some of the hapless
+Percy's features fell heavily on the scowling face in the window. The
+glass, which proved exceedingly thin and brittle, shivered into
+countless fragments within and without, and the inner sheet of
+transparent paper was so dry and tense that it shriveled instantly when
+exposed to the air. Indeed, Armathwaite, despite his rage, was aware of
+a peculiar sensation. It seemed as though he had struck at something
+impalpable as air. His hand was not cut. It appeared to have touched
+nothing. He thrust straight and hard, and the only evidence of his
+destroying zeal was a quantity of powdered glass on the landing, some
+curled wisps of paper adhering to the leaden frame, and an oval of blue
+sky shining through the visor.
+
+As he leaped to the floor again, Mrs. Jackson reached the center of the
+hall. She screeched frantically, thinking that the Black Prince himself
+was springing from the window. But she was a stout-hearted old woman,
+and quickly recovered her wits when she saw what Armathwaite had done.
+
+"They've long wanted a man i' this house!" she cried, in a voice that
+cracked with excitement, "and it's glad I am te see they've gotten yan
+at last! Eh, sir, ye med me jump! Ye did an' all! But ye'll never rue
+t' day when ye punched a hole in t' fëace o' that image of Owd Nick!"
+
+By this time Smith and his helpers, aware that something unusual was
+going on inside the house, were gathered at the front door, which had
+remained wide open since the early morning.
+
+"Listen, all of you!" said Armathwaite, addressing the two women and
+five men as though they were an army and he their emperor. "I am master
+here, and I expect you to obey my orders. I am going out now, and I may
+be away some hours, possibly all day. You, Smith, must put a padlock and
+chain on the gate and refuse to open it for anyone except Dr. Scaife and
+a nurse. You, Mrs. Jackson, must keep the doors locked while I am gone,
+and let no one enter, excepting, as I have told Smith, Dr. Scaife and
+the nurse who will accompany him. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you, Smith?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Betty, put some thin slices of bread and meat between two small plates,
+and tie them in a napkin. Fill a bottle with milk. Quick! I have no time
+to lose."
+
+He turned to the gaping boy who had brought the telegrams from
+Bellerby.
+
+"Did you ride here on your own bicycle?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is it a strong machine?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lend it to me for the day, and I'll give you a sovereign."
+
+"Right you are, sir!" came the hearty response. "Is there anything to go
+back to the post office?"
+
+"Nothing. Raise the saddle of your bicycle, and see that the tires are
+in good order. Here's your money."
+
+In an incredibly short time Armathwaite was pushing the bicycle up the
+steep road to the moor. He walked with long, swinging strides, and was
+soon lost to sight, because the trees behind the Grange hid the highway
+from any part of the house or grounds, and no one dared risk his wrath
+by going out into the road to watch him.
+
+He climbed swiftly yet steadily, and conquered the worst part of the
+hill in fifteen minutes. Then he mounted the bicycle, and got over the
+ground rapidly. Thus, within less than an hour after Marguérite Ogilvey
+had escaped from the Grange--in the first instance by taking refuge in
+her bedroom, and, while Betty was talking to Whittaker, by slipping
+downstairs and climbing through a window in the library--Armathwaite
+saw her--a lonely figure in that far-flung moorland, walking in the
+direction of Leyburn.
+
+Apparently, she had grabbed her hat and mackintosh coat when passing
+through the hall, and was carrying them, because the sun was glinting in
+her coils of brown hair. No stranger who met her would take her for
+other than a summer visitor. Certainly, no one would guess the storm of
+grief and terror that raged in her heart.
+
+The bicycle sped along with a silent speed that soon lessened the
+distance between the two. Armathwaite did not wish to startle her by a
+too sudden appearance, so he rang the bell when yet fifty yards in the
+rear.
+
+She turned instantly. When she saw who the pursuer was, she stopped.
+Neither spoke until Armathwaite had alighted, and the two had exchanged
+a long and questioning look.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"I'm going to my father. My place is with him. He must be hidden
+somewhere. I dare not wait until my mother came or wrote. I'm sorry,
+Bob. I could not even explain, though I should have telegraphed from
+York. Please don't ask me to say any more, or try to detain me."
+
+"Any explanation is unnecessary," he said, smiling gravely into the
+sweet face with its aspect of unutterable pain. "I squeezed the facts
+out of Percy Whittaker. I'm afraid I hurt him, but that is immaterial."
+
+"You made him tell you what he said to me?" and the brown eyes
+momentarily lost their wistfulness in a whirl of surprise and maidenly
+dismay.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Everything--even his threat?"
+
+"Everything."
+
+"Oh, Bob! What am I to do? I must go to dad!"
+
+"Undoubtedly; but I don't see why you should walk fourteen miles
+practically without food. I've brought some breakfast--of a sort. We'll
+go shares--half the sandwiches and half the milk. Then you'll ride on
+the step of the bike when the road permits, and trudge the remainder,
+and we'll be in Leyburn in half the time it would take you to walk. Here
+are the eatables, and this is just the place for a picnic."
+
+He spoke and behaved in such a matter-of-fact way that he almost
+persuaded the bewildered girl that her conduct, and his, and Percy
+Whittaker's was ruled and regulated by every-day conditions. Placing the
+bicycle by the roadside, he produced the package prepared by Betty, and
+was uncorking the milk when a strangled sob caught his ear.
+
+Marguérite had turned to hide her face, for a rush of emotion had proved
+too much for her self-control. Laying the bottle on a bank of turf, he
+caught the girl's shoulder, and turned her gently until her swimming
+eyes met his.
+
+"There's nothing to be gained by hailing trouble half way, Meg," he
+said. "I don't wish to hide my belief that you are faced with conditions
+of a most extraordinary nature, but I am convinced that they will shape
+themselves differently to any forecast we can arrive at now. I followed
+you for two reasons. I wanted you to begin a long journey better
+prepared than was possible after flight on a moment's notice, and I did
+not want you to go away thinking I was in ignorance of your motives. I
+can tell you here and now that you will save your father, if his
+position is such that he needs safe-guarding; further, you will never be
+compelled to marry Percy Whittaker."
+
+"Bob," she whispered brokenly. "I would rather die!"
+
+Then Armathwaite flung restraint to the winds. He gathered her in his
+arms, and lifted the tear-stained face to his.
+
+"Sweetheart," he said, "in the midst of such madness, let you and me be
+sane. I love you! You are the only woman I have ever loved. If I am
+allowed by Providence to begin life once more, you are the only woman I
+shall ever love. You were brought to me by a kindly fate, and I refuse
+to let you go now without telling you that you carry my heart with you.
+I ask for no answer at this moment. Some day in the future, when the
+clouds have lifted from your young life, I'll come to you--"
+
+But Marguérite gave him her answer then. Lifting herself on tip-toe, she
+kissed him on the lips.
+
+"Bob," she said tremulously, "I think I knew you were my chosen mate, if
+God willed it, when we parted on that first night in the Grange."
+
+That first night! It was hardly thirty-six hours ago, yet these two had
+crowded into that brief space more tribulation than many lovers undergo
+in a lifetime; and sorrow knits hearts more closely and lastingly than
+joy.
+
+Armathwaite could hardly credit the evidence of his senses. He had come
+to regard himself as so immeasurably older than this delightful girl
+that it seemed wildly improbable that she could return the almost
+hopeless love which had sprung into sudden and fierce activity in his
+breast. Yet, here she was, lying snug in his embrace, and gazing up at
+him with glistening eyes, her lips distended, her arms clasping him, her
+heart beating tumultuously in the first transports of passion.
+
+He kissed her again and again, and could have held her there seemingly
+forever; but they were driven apart by a curious humming sound which
+bore a singular resemblance to the purr of a powerful automobile
+climbing a steep hill.
+
+Marguérite disengaged herself from her lover's embrace with a flushing
+self-consciousness that was, in itself, vastly attractive.
+
+"Bob," she murmured, stooping to pick up a fallen hat and mackintosh,
+"miracles are happening. Here are you and I forgetting a world in which
+evil things find a place, and here is a motor-car crossing Elmdale moor
+for the first time in history."
+
+"It would not surprise me in the least if the visitant proved to be a
+flying-machine," he laughed, finding it hard to withdraw his ardent gaze
+from those flushed cheeks and that tangled mass of brown hair.
+
+But the insistent drumming of an engine grew ever louder, and soon a
+long, low-built touring car swept into view over the last undulation.
+Apparently, it was untenanted save by a chauffeur, and Armathwaite's
+brain, recovering its balance after a whirl of delirium, was beginning
+to guess at a possible explanation of this strange occurrence, when the
+car slowed as it neared them, and finally halted.
+
+"Are you Mr. Armathwaite, sir?" inquired the chauffeur.
+
+"Yes."
+
+The man lifted his cap.
+
+"This is the car you ordered from York last night, sir."
+
+"How thoughtful of you to follow!" cried Armathwaite, overjoyed by this
+quite unexpected bit of good fortune. He had not only forgotten that the
+car was on order--an impulse of the moment when he realized how tied he
+and all others were to the house if anything in the nature of a sudden
+and rapid journey came on the _tapis_--but, in any event, he had not
+looked for its arrival before mid-day, and the hour was yet barely ten
+o'clock.
+
+"Your servants thought you might need me, sir," explained the man, "so I
+came after you. It's a scorcher of a road for the first mile, but the
+rest isn't so bad, if it keeps in the same condition."
+
+Now, what had actually happened was this. The chauffeur had reached the
+Grange about twenty minutes after Armathwaite's departure. At that
+moment Smith was chaining and padlocking the gate, but Betty heard the
+snorting of the car, and came to find out its cause.
+
+When the chauffeur told her that he was there in response to an order,
+the quick-witted girl told him to hurry up the moor road. He looked at
+it, and grinned.
+
+"What! Take a valuable machine over a track like that! Not me!" he said.
+
+"Can't it go there?" she inquired.
+
+"It can go anywhere, for that matter."
+
+"Are you afraid, then?"
+
+"Afraid of what? D'ye think I want to twist an axle or smash a wheel?"
+
+Then one of the laboring men joined in.
+
+"I reckon you don't know t' maister," he said. "He wouldn't care a pin
+if you smashed yourself, but you've got to obey orders. He's one of the
+sort who has his own way. Good pay, no beer, an' hard work is _his_
+motter. It is, an' all."
+
+Between maid and man, the chauffeur decided to risk it. When all was
+said and done, it would be a bad beginning in a new job if the servants
+reported his refusal to follow on.
+
+"Is he far ahead?" he inquired.
+
+"Mebbe a mile over t' top."
+
+Starting the engine on the switch, he put the car at the hill, and, like
+many another difficulty, it was not insurmountable when tackled boldly.
+So, behold! A comfortable and easy way was opened to Leyburn, at any
+rate, and Armathwaite laughed gayly.
+
+"Now we'll breakfast, and discuss," said he. "The gods have sent us a
+chariot!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+IN WHICH THE AREA WIDENS
+
+
+If any critic, on perusing this chronicle, is moved to peevish
+condemnation of Armathwaite's amazing conduct that morning, the man
+himself would be the last to protest. He might urge that he was dazzled
+by the new and entrancing realm whose bright waters and fair meads he
+could discern beyond the present rough and dangerous ground. He might
+plead the literal truth--that when he went in pursuit of Marguérite
+Ogilvey he had no more intention of declaring his love than of hastening
+to Dover and endeavoring forthwith to swim the English Channel. But,
+making every allowance for a confirmed celibate who had suddenly become
+a devout lover, and to whose arms the lady of his choice had committed
+herself without any pretense of restraint, it must still be admitted
+that he was guilty of a most singular omission in failing to make known
+to her his very identity!
+
+He remembered the phenomenal lapse when too late. Even to that practical
+side of his character which reproached the emotional side with a
+ridiculous forgetfulness, he could only say, in mitigation of sentence,
+that the sudden appearance of the car brought about such a novel
+situation that all else yielded to the need for prompt and skillful
+judgment in deciding Marguérite's immediate future.
+
+It was all the more difficult to think logically and act decisively when
+Marguérite herself, ever and anon, was lifting adorably shy eyes to his
+while the two were making the best of the unusual meal he had provided.
+There, nevertheless, within a few feet, stood the obedient giant whose
+stout mechanism rendered many things possible that were hitherto
+impossible. The chauffeur, who gave his name as Storr, had taken off the
+bonnet for a critical glance at the six cylinders which had forced
+nearly two tons of metal and wood up the stony and rutted surface of one
+of the worst moorland tracks in Yorkshire. He seemed to be more than
+satisfied. The water in the radiator had got rather excited, but that
+was only to be expected. A close eye was given to other essentials, and
+the tire covers were examined, but every part of the car had withstood
+the strain of a fearsome hill splendidly.
+
+Storr had never doubted, but, like a prudent general, he reviewed his
+forces after the engagement, and found them not only intact, but ready
+for mightier deeds. Then, merely to gratify the sense of touch, as a
+horseman strokes a willing and well-groomed steed, he fingered a tap or
+two, shut off the engine, and asked Armathwaite if he might smoke a
+cigarette while awaiting further orders.
+
+His employer thanked him for the word. It recalled the motive of
+Marguérite's flight. Some plan of action must be arrived at, and without
+delay.
+
+"Smoke, by all means," he said, summing up the man at a glance as a
+bluff and honest sort of follow who would be thoroughly dependable if
+properly handled. "How long did the run from York to Elmdale take?"
+
+"A little more than two hours, sir. I started at half-past seven. Your
+telegram said I was to arrive by noon, but our people thought they'd
+please a new customer by bein' a bit afore time. They didn't wire,
+because the car would be to hand almost as quick as a telegram."
+
+"Can you go from Leyburn to York in two hours?"
+
+"Easily, sir."
+
+"Very well. Just pull your machine a few yards ahead, and Miss Ogilvey
+and I will discuss the day's program."
+
+Storr obeyed, and Armathwaite outlined to a willing listener the
+project he had already formed.
+
+"First," he said, "here is a telegram from your mother. I opened it. I
+thought it was best----"
+
+"Why, of course, Bob dear; why shouldn't you?"
+
+Bob dear! It was very pleasant to hear the phrase on Marguérite's lips,
+yet it rendered doubly distasteful the suggestion he had in mind; since
+where is the lover who will bring himself willingly to the task of
+telling his lady-love that they must part? But it had to be done.
+Marguérite must go--not quite so far as Cornwall, it is true, but much
+too far to please him, and he must return to the Grange, where, a sure
+instinct warned him, weighty matters would be settled that day.
+
+A cry of dismay from the girl gave him the cue he wanted.
+
+"Oh, she has started already!" she almost sobbed. "While I was flying to
+Warleggan she is traveling North. We shall pass each other on the way!"
+
+"No," he said, "that must not happen. You are going to be a good little
+sweetheart, and do as I tell you. This most excellent and comfortable
+car will take you to York. There you will ascertain from an obliging
+station-master what time Mrs. Ogilvey can arrive from Tavistock,
+assuming she left there at or about the hour stated in the message, and
+you'll meet her. At a rough guess, Mrs. Ogilvey should be in York about
+six o'clock. You'll escort her to the station hotel, give her something
+to eat, and calmly discuss the whole affair while the same luxurious
+automobile is bringing you back to Elmdale."
+
+"But, what of the danger dad may be in?"
+
+"I am coming to that. I believe, somehow, that your mother will relieve
+your mind in that respect. Remember, I have always held, since the main
+features of this extraordinary affair became clear, that your father has
+acted throughout with his wife's cognizance, if not with her complete
+approval. Now, if that is so, she is the one person who can decide
+whether you return with her to Elmdale or hasten through the night to
+Warleggan. Again hazarding a guess, I don't think you could reach your
+father to-night, even though you caught the first available train from
+York. Cornwall is a long way from Yorkshire. By starting this minute,
+you might be in York by one o'clock. Allowing eleven hours for the
+journey, an estimate I am doubtful about, you would arrive at Tavistock
+at midnight, whereas it is highly probable there is no such train, nor
+one so rapid. By the way, why, do you think, did Mrs. Ogilvey telegraph
+from Tavistock?"
+
+"She would drive there--some twelve miles. No telegram could be
+dispatched from Warleggan before the post office opened at eight."
+
+"She may have had an even more powerful reason. The message is sent to
+'Garth,' not to 'Ogilvey.' Isn't it quite rational to suppose that she
+hopes no one in Elmdale knows about the change of name?"
+
+"Yes," said Meg, trying to look calmly judicial. "That sounds
+reasonable."
+
+"Then every consideration points to the wisdom of awaiting your mother
+at York."
+
+"But, Bob dear, have you thought of the awful result if Percy carries
+out his threat?"
+
+"Percy will not do anything dramatic to-day, I promise you. I have
+scared him badly already, and I'm going back now with the full intent
+that he shall cause no more mischief until I hear from, or see, Mrs.
+Ogilvey and yourself, or one of you. Perhaps, to relieve my anxiety, you
+will send a message from York announcing your decision?"
+
+"Yes; I'll do that. You are really convinced that I ought to meet
+mother?"
+
+"I'm sure of it."
+
+"Then you can trust me. I'll do as you say. You needn't have any fear
+that between here and York I'll change my mind. Bob, you believe me,
+don't you, when I tell you that I ran away this morning because I dared
+not take you into my confidence? I could not bring myself to explain the
+true meaning of Percy's horrid insinuations."
+
+"Please, forget Percy. I'll deal with him."
+
+"But you won't be too angry with him? It is hard to endure, I know, that
+he should play on his defenseless state, but, if he were quite well and
+uninjured, he could offer you no resistance."
+
+He laughed. The notion of Percy Whittaker and himself engaging in a
+desperate conflict for physical supremacy was intensely amusing.
+
+"If you mean that I am not to assault him, I promise that with all my
+heart," he said. "I gripped him rather strenuously an hour ago, I admit,
+but then I was angry with him. Now I feel that I owe him a deep debt of
+gratitude, because he has brought to pass something which I hardly dared
+dream of. Don't you see, dearest, that if Percy hadn't behaved meanly to
+you I shouldn't now be calling you dearest, and wishing that our
+sharp-eyed chauffeur were anywhere else in the wide world but where he
+is. Now, no more words, but deeds! Off you go to York! What money have
+you?"
+
+"Plenty."
+
+"What do you call plenty?"
+
+"Dad gave me fifteen pounds when I left home, and I've spent less than
+five."
+
+"Well, then, sweetheart, it is good-by till this evening."
+
+"Oh, Bob darling, I shall pray that it may be so!"
+
+Storr received his orders without lifting an eyelid, which was highly
+creditable to him, having regard to the peculiar conditions under which
+he had met his employer. Of course, he was ignorant of the state of
+affairs at the Grange. He imagined that Mr. Armathwaite was escorting a
+young lady over the moor to Leyburn, which was a funny way to reach
+York, when Nuttonby lay on a better road, which was also the more direct
+route. But there was nothing unusual in the fact that he should be
+taking Miss Ogilvey to meet her mother, while the car would make light
+of the three journeys.
+
+"You'd better have this, sir, and see if it's right," he said, giving
+Armathwaite a note. A glance showed that it dealt with terms for the
+hire of the car.
+
+"Tell your people it is quite satisfactory," said Armathwaite, and,
+after a farewell pressure of Meg's hand, and a look from the brown eyes
+which remained with him like a blessing, the car started. He watched
+until it had vanished over a long undulation of the road, and saw the
+last flutter of Meg's handkerchief ere she crossed the sky-line. Then he
+mounted the bicycle, and rode swiftly back to the tiny hamlet in which,
+during two short days, he had passed through so many and so much varied
+experiences.
+
+Looking down from the crest of the hill at the sunlit panorama of farm
+and field, woodland and furze-grown common, with Elmdale's cluster of
+homesteads nestling close beneath the moor, and the spire of Bellerby
+Church (near which lay the mortal remains of "Stephen Garth") rising
+above a cluster of elms in the middle distance, it seemed to be a
+fantastic and unreal notion that so many of life's evils, so much of its
+beauty and happiness, could have found full scope for their expression
+in that tiny and remote place.
+
+As the hill was too dangerous in parts to ride, he dismounted twice. He
+was about to coast down the last straight slope to the house when a
+thought struck him with such blinding force that he nearly lost control
+of the bicycle. Fool that he was, his first care should have been to
+tell Marguérite that his name was not Armathwaite; that he had adopted
+an incognito simply to avoid the prying eyes and inquisitive tongues of
+those with whom he might be brought in contact; that, in marrying him,
+she was stepping forth from the seclusion of a student's retreat into
+the full glare of public life. Oh, the deuce take all complications and
+worries! He had won Marguérite by extraordinary means--he must do his
+wooing in more orthodox manner, and in his true colors.
+
+He was traveling at a rate which kept pace with the tornado in his mind,
+but the second nature brought into being by an adventurous career bent a
+watchful eye on the inequalities of the road, so that he was actually
+slowing up somewhat short of the gate leading to the Grange garden when
+he became aware of an unusual concourse of people gathered in the
+roadway. A motor-car and two dog-carts were halted near the gable of
+Mrs. Jackson's cottage, and a number of men--among them two in police
+uniform--who seemed to have collected into a chatting group, dissolved
+into units when he approached.
+
+He recognized a groom at a horse's head as Dr. Scaife's man; all the
+others were total strangers.
+
+But not for long.
+
+Sir Berkeley Hutton, brought to Elmdale by a neighborly curiosity
+strengthened by the call of the East, appeared to be overwhelmed with
+surprise at sight of Armathwaite. But the worthy baronet did not lose
+the faculty of speech. No conceivable catastrophe, short of instant
+death, could deprive him of that.
+
+"God bless my soul!" he cried, advancing with outstretched hand.
+"Baluchi Bob! The last man breathing I ever expected to see in Elmdale!
+Did the monsoon break earlier than usual this year, or what wind of
+heaven blew _you_ here?"
+
+"Hullo, Barker!" cried Armathwaite, hailing him with manifest pleasure.
+"I didn't know you had pitched your tent in these parts!"
+
+"Yes, but, dash it all, Bob, what's the game? They told me someone name
+of Armathwaite, in the Politicals, had taken the Grange."
+
+"Quite true. But you know I came a cropper in India, and I was a bit
+tired of the _sturm und drang_ of existence, so I hied me to cover under
+my mother's maiden name. I suppose I have a sort of right to it, though
+it doesn't seem to have proved altogether successful as a cloak."
+
+"By gad! I can hardly agree with you there. I felt as though I'd come a
+purler over wire when I saw Baluchi Bob dropping off that bicycle. Great
+Scott! You on a bike! How have the mighty fallen! But I'll lend you a
+hack till you collect a few useful screws, unless you're bitten by this
+new craze for rushing about the country in a gastank. And won't Mollie
+be glad to see you! It was only the other day she was talkin' about the
+Pup, and sayin' that if it hadn't been for you----"
+
+"Oh, tell Mollie to forget that old tale, or she'll make me nervous!"
+
+Each word exchanged between the two was heard distinctly by the others,
+and, such is the queer way in which the affairs of life sometimes take
+an unexpected twist, there was a marked and instant change of attitude
+on the part of three men, at least, who had come to Elmdale that day
+prepared to treat the Grange's new tenant as a potential criminal.
+Banks, mouthpiece of the _Nuttonby Gazette_, who had bicycled thither in
+the hope of securing another batch of readable copy for a special
+Saturday edition, suddenly found himself reviewing, with a sinking
+heart, one or two rather ticklish paragraphs in the screed already
+published anent "The Elmdale mystery." As for the superintendent and
+inspector of police from Nuttonby, they forthwith recanted certain
+opinions formed after hearing Banks's story and reading the current
+issue of his newspaper.
+
+For Sir Berkeley Hutton was a county magnate, chairman of the Nuttonby
+bench, an alderman of the County Council, a Deputy Lieutenant, and
+goodness knows what else of a power in civic and social circles, and
+here was he hailing this stranger as an intimate friend, being himself
+greeted by the nickname earned by a loud and strident utterance which
+never failed, speaking of Lady Hutton as "Mollie," of his eldest son as
+"the Pup." County police and country editors must be chary of accepting
+the evidence of James Walkers and Tom Blands against the guarantee of
+such a man, or they may get their corns trodden on most painfully!
+
+All at once, Sir Berkeley Hutton seemed to recollect the talk which had
+been going on outside the locked and barred gate, for Begonia Smith and
+his henchmen had refused to pass anyone but the doctor and nurse, who
+were with their patient at that moment.
+
+"I say, Bob," he went on, in a thunderous whisper quite as audible as
+his ordinary voice, "I'm devilish glad it's you--I am, 'pon my
+soul!--because some of these chaps have been spinnin' the queerest sort
+of yarn, in which a murder, a suicide, a ghost, and a pretty girl are
+mixed up in fine style. Just tell 'em all to go to blazes, will
+you?--except Dobb. Dobb's a decent fellow, and he acted for the people
+who used to live here--Hi! Dobb. This is----" Then it dawned on him that
+his friend might wish still to preserve his anonymity save in the sacred
+circle of the elect, so he broke off into "Come along, Dobb! I want you
+to meet one of the best fellows who ever wore shoe-leather!"
+
+Dobb advanced. With him came a gentleman who was as unknown to Nuttonby
+as Armathwaite himself. Before the solicitor could speak, his companion
+said quietly:
+
+"Sir Robert Dalrymple, I believe?"
+
+"Yes," and Marguérite's "chosen mate" looked him very searchingly and
+squarely in the eyes.
+
+"My name is Morand," said the other. "I am sent here by the India Office
+to tell you----" he glanced around in momentary hesitation.
+
+"Pray, go on," said Dalrymple, as Armathwaite must be described
+henceforth. "There is nothing that the India Office has to communicate
+which I am not willing that all the world should hear."
+
+"Happily, Sir Robert, this is a communication which all the world ought
+to hear. The Maharajah of Barapur is dead. He was assassinated last
+Monday while driving through the bazaar. His prime minister, Chalwar
+Singh, was with him, and was mortally wounded at the same time."
+
+"Then India is well rid of two pestilent scoundrels," said Dalrymple
+unconcernedly.
+
+"That is the view now held by the Government," was the grave answer.
+
+"A death-bed conversion, of a sort," commented his hearer dryly.
+
+"A death-bed confession, too," said Morand. "It was a fortunate thing
+that both men lived long enough to reveal that they had concocted the
+whole story of the Maharani's pearls in order to get you shelved. Your
+administration was too honest. They played on your well-known
+carelessness in trivial matters of detail, and bribed your native
+secretary, Muncherji, to include in your correspondence the letters
+which seemed to prove your complicity in a serious breach of trust.
+Muncherji, by rare good chance, was not in Barapur when the Maharajah
+and Chalwar Singh were riddled with bullets, so he was arrested before
+he knew of the affair. He, too, has confessed. In fact, I can convey
+everything in a sentence. The Government of India has reinstated you in
+the High Commissionership, and you are gazetted as absent on leave. I am
+the bearer of ample apologies from the India Office, which will be
+tendered to you in person by my chief when he meets you in London.
+Meanwhile, I am to request you to allow the announcement to be made
+public that you will return to India on a named date, while the
+appointment of your deputy is left open for your recommendation."
+
+Dalrymple paled slightly, which was the only evidence he gave of the
+effect such a statement was bound to produce on a proud and ambitious
+nature, but Sir Berkeley Hutton was irrepressible.
+
+"By gad!" he roared, "somebody's gold lace has been rolled in the dust
+of Calcutta before the India Department climbed down like that. I never
+heard anything like it--never! 'Pon me soul! Won't Mollie be pleased?"
+
+Yet the man to whom the path of empire was again thrown open spoke no
+word. It was good to have his honor cleared of the stain put on it by a
+scheming Indian prince and his henchmen. It was good to find himself
+standing once more in the high place he had won by self-sacrificing work
+and unflinching adherence to an ideal of efficient government. But his
+thoughts were with a sorrow-stricken girl speeding to a sad tryst with a
+mother who might bring tidings that would blight her life for many a
+year.
+
+Morand grew anxious. He shared Dalrymple's knowledge of the tremendous
+issues bound up with an affair of State of real magnitude, and he did
+not want to fail in this, his first confidential mission.
+
+"If there is anything else I can say, Sir Robert----" he began, and his
+voice disrupted a dream.
+
+"It's all right, Morand," said the other, letting a hand rest on the
+shoulder of the younger man in that characteristic way of his. "I'm not
+such a cur as to snarl when I have been proved right, and my traducers
+are ready to admit their blunder. I didn't yelp when the blow fell. I'm
+not going to kick up a bobbery now when I'm given back my spurs. Tell
+your chief that I'll come to him soon, within a week, if possible. I
+have business on my hands here that calls imperatively for settlement.
+I'll deal first with that; then I'll come. Are you returning to town at
+once?"
+
+"By the first available train. More than that, I am to telegraph your
+decision to Whitehall. Between you and me, some people are in a howling
+funk lest a question should be put in the House."
+
+"That isn't the frontier method. Men who appeal to Parliament when
+things go wrong are of no value to India. But I don't want to preach."
+
+"Won't you come in?"
+
+"If you'll pardon me, I'll hurry back to Nuttonby. That telegram is
+called for urgently. What about your deputy?"
+
+"Collins was transferred to Oudh because he supported me. Send him to
+Barapur. The natives will understand that better than a dozen
+gazettes."
+
+"Thanks. That clinches it, Sir Robert. Mr. Dobb, do you mind if we start
+immediately?"
+
+Mr. Dobb did mind. For one thing, he had not spoken a word to Sir Robert
+Dalrymple yet. For another, Nuttonby loomed larger in his mind than some
+wrangle in far-away Hindustan, and Nuttonby was seething with rumors
+anent present and past inhabitants of the Grange.
+
+"We, like the State of Barapur, have our little troubles," he said
+guardedly. "Sir Robert has shown already that he appreciates their
+gravity. My car will take you to Nuttonby, Mr. Morand, and come back for
+me."
+
+The representative of the India Office was only too pleased to get away
+on any terms. He knew that a reassuring message was wanted in Whitehall.
+There were wheels within wheels. A question _was_ put in the House that
+night, and an Under-Secretary scoffed at the notion that Sir Robert
+Dalrymple, "a trusted servant of his country, whose splendid work on the
+Indus was most thoroughly appreciated by the Government of India," had
+been requested to resign. As a matter of public interest, he was pleased
+to inform the honorable questioner that Sir Robert Dalrymple, only that
+day, had put forward the name of Mr. Mortimer Collins, I.C.S., to act
+as his deputy in Barapur until he returned from short leave granted on
+"urgent private affairs."
+
+The motor was already trumpeting its way through a mob of Elmdale
+urchins, who seldom saw a car, and had never before seen two in one day,
+when Dalrymple found himself regretting he had not inquired how Morand
+contrived to get on his track so easily. Some weeks elapsed before he
+learned that the only friend in London who knew his whereabouts thought
+it a duty to speak when the hue and cry went forth from the India
+Office.
+
+Dalrymple was with his friend, a retired general, in his club when the
+vexed administrator announced his intention to retire from the arena and
+take a well-earned rest.
+
+"I'll assume my mother's name, Armathwaite," he had said, "and rusticate
+in some place where Barapur is unknown and India never mentioned. Let's
+have a look at the map!"
+
+He glanced at a motoring road-book lying on the club table.
+
+"Here we are!" he laughed. "Judging by the condition of the highways,
+there are backwoods near Nuttonby, in Yorkshire. My postal address will
+be Armathwaite, near Nuttonby, for some months. But I'll write."
+
+So that was how it happened that Sir Robert Dalrymple came to the
+Grange, and met Marguérite Ogilvey. Some part of the outcome of that
+meeting was foreshadowed while Smith of the Begonias was unlocking the
+gate, because a procession of three appeared in the porch.
+
+Dr. Scaife and a nurse were carrying Percy Whittaker between them. The
+doctor's distress was almost comical when he caught sight of Dalrymple.
+He shouted brokenly, being rather breathless:
+
+"For goodness' sake--Mr. Armathwaite--come and persuade this young
+man--to remain here. He insists--on being taken away--at once!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE LAYING OF THE GHOST
+
+
+It has been seen that Dalrymple had a short way with the Percy
+Whittakers of this world. He strode up the garden path and confronted
+Whittaker, who was standing on one foot and clinging in pain and terror
+to Dr. Scaife and the nurse.
+
+"You had better remain here," he said sternly. "Miss Ogilvey has only
+gone to meet her mother at York. Both ladies will probably arrive this
+evening. Why are you making yourself a nuisance when everyone is doing
+all that is possible to serve you?"
+
+Whittaker clutched the doctor even more tightly.
+
+"He says that before witnesses," he quavered, "yet less than an hour ago
+he tried to strangle me."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense! I don't believe it!" protested Scaife emphatically.
+
+"I frightened him, undoubtedly," said Dalrymple. "It was necessary.
+Sometimes a threatened spanking is as effectual as the real thing, and
+Mr. Whittaker's nervous system has led him to take an exaggerated view
+of my intentions. The fact is that he himself was responsible for a show
+of violence on my part. Meanwhile, Marguérite Ogilvey, whom you have
+always known as Meg Garth, Dr. Scaife, has promised to become my wife,
+so Mr. Whittaker and I have no further cause for quarrel. Indeed, by the
+time he is able to walk downstairs unassisted, his own good sense will
+come to the rescue, and blot out any unpleasant memories as between him
+and me.... Now, Percy, my boy, let me use my muscles to better purpose
+than choking the life out of you. I'm going to carry you back to bed
+again."
+
+His air of quiet domination, no less than the news which sounded the
+knell of Whittaker's hopes, seemed to mesmerize the neurotic youth into
+silence and submission. Dalrymple took him in his arms, lifted him off
+the ground with gentle care, and carried him to the bedroom he had
+insisted on leaving. The nurse followed, and he left the invalid in her
+care.
+
+Hastening to the porch, he found Dr. Scaife mopping his forehead; the
+worthy doctor was more upset by the frenzied statements made by Percy
+than by the physical effort involved by carrying him downstairs.
+
+"Wait one moment," he said. "I'm bringing in some men whom you know.
+Then I shall explain everything."
+
+He passed on to the gate.
+
+"I want you, Hutton, and you, Mr. Dobb, to come into the house. Those
+police officers also had better join us. Who is the other man?"
+
+"Mr. Banks, of the _Nuttonby Gazette_," said the baronet.
+
+"Very well. Let him come, too. Better tell him what he must not say
+rather than correct his blunders subsequently in a court of law."
+
+Mr. Dobb, being a lawyer, doubted the wisdom of admitting a
+representative of the press to their conclave, but Dalrymple's air of
+authority kept him dumb. During the drive from Nuttonby the delegate of
+the India Office had discoursed on the important position this stranger
+occupied in India, and it was not for a country solicitor, who hardly
+guessed what was coming, to question his decision before he knew its
+scope.
+
+And therein Dalrymple showed his genius. Banks, already in a flutter
+because of certain indiscretions in his printed references to the
+inquest, was at once soothed and gratified by the great man's tact. The
+police superintendent found the ground cut away from beneath his feet by
+the full and complete version of recent events which Dalrymple
+supplied. Sir Berkeley and the doctor listened to the recital with
+ill-suppressed amazement, but, at the end, they agreed, each and all,
+with Dalrymple's suggestion that judgment should be suspended until Mrs.
+Ogilvey was in Elmdale.
+
+He did not attempt to argue that the law should not take its course.
+
+"During the past ten years," he said, "I have held the lives and
+liberties of two millions of people in my keeping, so I need hardly say
+that I am a most unlikely person to fly in the face of authority. But
+there are circumstances connected with this inquiry which call for
+careful treatment. Some man died here, and was buried, and the law must
+be satisfied that Mr. Stephen Ogilvey was either ignorant of the
+occurrence, or had no guilty knowledge of it--which is not quite the
+same thing--before he can be exonerated from the grave suspicion at
+present attached to his actions of two years ago. Now, I have not the
+honor of knowing either Mr. Ogilvey or his wife, but I do hold that they
+could not have won the respect of their neighbors during twenty years of
+residence in this house and yet be capable of planning and committing an
+atrocious murder. I would point out that Mrs. Ogilvey shares some of the
+blame, or the guilt, of her husband. If he is a criminal, she knows it.
+The law looks with lenient eyes on a woman who shields a man in such
+conditions, but that element in human affairs only goes to strengthen my
+contention that Mrs. Ogilvey can, if she chooses, throw a flood of light
+on this strange problem. She is now on her way North. Her daughter has
+gone to York to meet her. In all likelihood, one or both ladies will be
+in Elmdale to-night. Is it not reasonable to ask that investigation by
+the police into a singular occurrence now two years old should be
+postponed till to-morrow? Gentlemen, I promise you this. Come here
+to-morrow, say, about two o'clock, and you will be placed in possession
+of every fact then known to me. It is obvious, in my opinion, that the
+police can hardly adopt any other course, but I am bound to point out to
+Mr. Banks that the man who writes, and the newspaper which publishes,
+theories or speculations with regard to this matter before it is fully
+cleared up through the proper channel, will incur a most serious
+responsibility."
+
+Sir Berkeley Hutton, of course, had a word to say.
+
+"Mr. Garth, or Mr. Ogilvey as you now call him, is an old and valued
+friend of mine," he declared, "and it is my fixed and definite belief
+that if he was stung by a wasp he would find some excuse for a poor
+insect which was only trying to protect itself from imaginary danger.
+Stephen Garth kill anybody! Stuff and nonsense!"
+
+Mr. Dobb, too, was incredulous in so far as his friend's criminality was
+concerned.
+
+"Mr. Garth certainly wrote the letter to the coroner," he said. "I saw
+it, and recognized his handwriting. Therefore, he knew that a death had
+taken place, and used a remarkably ingenious method of hoodwinking the
+authorities. That, in itself, is a legal offense--the magnitude of which
+alone can be estimated when we know the truth. I agree with Sir Robert
+Dalrymple. We must await Mrs. Garth's, or, I suppose I must learn to
+say, Mrs. Ogilvey's, arrival before any other steps are taken.
+Meanwhile, it is of the utmost importance that no word of this
+discussion shall travel beyond these four walls."
+
+"Will Sir Robert Dalrymple undertake to notify me of Mrs. Ogilvey's
+presence?" was the very pertinent inquiry made by the police
+superintendent.
+
+Dalrymple undertook readily to send a messenger into Nuttonby early next
+morning, and his diplomacy was rewarded by seeing the conclave break up
+on that understanding. Nevertheless, he passed a miserable and restless
+day. He had not stemmed the torrent, but diverted it. If his faith was
+not justified, if Marguérite's mother either refused to give any
+explanation of her husband's extraordinary ruse, or denied all knowledge
+of it, there was no getting away from the fact that the elderly recluse
+might soon be lodged in a felon's cell.
+
+Marguérite herself would strain every nerve to save her father, if only
+by flight, but her lover realized how futile that would prove. He had
+secured a respite--and no more. If Mrs. Ogilvey's admissions led her
+daughter to journey on through the night to Warleggan, the girl might
+contrive to hurry her father out of England before the bolt fell. But to
+what avail? They would be traced with ease. Their flight, the pursuit,
+the arrest, would only add fuel to the flame lighted by inquisitive
+newspapers. Better, far better, that the man should face an inquiry at
+once rather than be put on trial after a vain attempt to escape.
+
+It was almost a relief to visit Percy Whittaker during the afternoon,
+and endeavor to convert him from active enmity into a sulky acquiescence
+in things as they were, and not as he hoped they would be. Luckily,
+Dalrymple had estimated a curious temperament with singular accuracy.
+After a long conversation, in which the older man cajoled and flattered
+Percy by turns, the latter declared that he never meant to put his
+threat into force.
+
+"I'm not such an ass as to want to marry a girl who loathed the sight of
+me," he said ruefully. "I tried to frighten Meg. I guessed she'd run off
+to Warleggan. My motive was to separate the pair of you. Then I'd
+follow, as soon as this confounded ankle of mine would permit, and tell
+her candidly that I was frantically jealous of you. Dash it all, and not
+without good cause! All's fair in love an' war, Mr. Armathwaite. I've a
+notion now that my splutter simply drove her into your arms."
+
+"My name is not Armathwaite----" began Dalrymple, whereupon Whittaker
+glared at him in a new frenzy.
+
+"I never thought it was!" he vociferated. "Let me tell you you're the
+biggest puzzle of the lot. I shan't be a bit surprised if you say you
+are the fellow who hanged somebody here, and persuaded old Garth to
+stand the racket."
+
+So, to pass the time while the nurse was eating a meal, Dalrymple told
+him the story of Barapur, and Percy heard, and was subdued, since he
+knew now that, come what might, Marguérite Ogilvey was lost to him
+forever.
+
+Then, while Dalrymple was surveying the day's work of Smith and his
+men, and declaring it was good, there came a messenger from Bellerby on
+a borrowed bicycle, bearing a telegram. It was from Marguérite, and
+Dalrymple's heart danced with joy when he read:
+
+"All is well. Father leaves for York to-night. He will join mother and
+me early to-morrow. Expect us about ten o'clock. Am detaining car. Love,
+MEG."
+
+All is well! What was well? It was a woman's message, which assumed
+everything and told nothing, except the one amazing fact that Stephen
+Ogilvey's wife had evidently decided that the period of concealment was
+ended, and that her husband should now vindicate himself in the eyes of
+his world.
+
+At any rate, a youth returned to Bellerby with two bicycles and the
+richer by two sovereigns, so it is tolerably certain that Dalrymple's
+few words of congratulation were not delayed on the way.
+
+The new tenant smoked and mused in the garden for another hour, until
+Betty came to summon him to dinner. He was entering the house when he
+saw the ghost again, a phantom divested now of eeriness, because a round
+blob of sunshine shone on the wall instead of the white sockets of eyes
+which lent such a ghoulish aspect to the shadowy face. Then he did a
+queer thing. Lifting the grandfather's clock, and disregarding the
+protest of weights and pendulum thumping against its wooden ribs, he
+placed it exactly where the reflection of the window fell. Instantly,
+the ghost vanished. The dark mahogany case absorbed the outlines of the
+figure. The old Spanish wood glowed richly here and there where the
+lights were strongest, and a disk of gold illumined the dull brass of
+the clock's face. And that was the end of the Elmdale ghost! Never again
+would it be seen until someone moved the clock, and Sir Robert Dalrymple
+vowed that such alteration should not occur in his time.
+
+Luckily, Dr. Scaife came just as Dalrymple was sitting down to a
+solitary meal, and he was promptly bidden to the feast. Dalrymple showed
+him Marguérite's telegram, and they discussed it for an hour, or longer,
+though with no result, for they could only theorize, and, since truth is
+stranger than fiction, even two such acute minds failed to arrive at the
+actual solution of the mystery.
+
+Dalrymple went late to bed, and awoke early, to find that the
+much-maligned British climate had produced another fine day. It was
+joyous to see the sun shining into his bedroom; it was still more joyous
+to descend the stairs, and glimpse the blue sky through the Black
+Prince's visor. A current of pure, sweet-scented air came through the
+orifice, and seemed to presage a new span of life to the old house;
+Dalrymple decided, then and there, that when the turmoil had subsided,
+he would commission the best obtainable artist in stained glass to
+restore the Black Prince's features in guise befitting his character as
+a warrior, statesman, and true lover.
+
+A few minutes before ten Tom Bland came with a cartload of plants from a
+nursery. Smith and the laborers carried the boxes of flowers into the
+garden, and set them on both sides of the path, so that happy chance
+contrived that Marguérite should lead her parents to their old home
+through a blaze of color when the automobile brought them to the gate at
+ten o'clock.
+
+It is not often that any collection of mortals is privileged to see a
+ghost in broad daylight, and in the rays of a powerful sun at that, but
+such was the lot of carrier Bland, gardener Smith, and four gaping
+yokels of Elmdale, not to mention a quite respectable number of other
+inhabitants, when Stephen Garth alighted from the car and walked
+jauntily up the garden to the porch of his own house. To save Mrs.
+Jackson and Betty from spasms, Dalrymple had warned them previously of
+Mr. Garth's coming, but the men, and Elmdale generally, were not thus
+enlightened, and some of them would certainly have bolted had they not
+seen "the new guv'nor" shaking hands with "the old guv'nor," and had not
+the latter stopped to greet Begonia Smith with the exceedingly trite
+remark:
+
+"Well, Smith, I'm not so dead as you thought me!"
+
+"No, sir," said Smith, who did not find his tongue again until the
+newcomers had gone into the Grange.
+
+Then he turned to one of the men.
+
+"All I can say, Henery, is this," he murmured huskily. "I've heerd of
+people lookin' as though they'd bin dead an' dug up, but I'll take my
+oath no one has dug Mr. Garth out o' Bellerby Churchyard."
+
+"It must be all right, though," was the philosophic answer. "Miss Meg
+wouldn't look so happy if there was goin' to be trouble."
+
+"Ay! But hurry up with those begonias. In with 'em!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It would serve no good purpose to set forth in detail the manner in
+which Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvey cleared up the mystery on the one hand, and
+became mystified themselves on the other. Few parents can rear a
+charming daughter to womanhood without experiencing the surprise,
+almost the dismay, of finding that she has given her heart to a man of
+whom they know little. In this instance, a devoted father and an equally
+devoted mother could only listen in bewilderment when the girl, who was
+still a child in their eyes, introduced "Robert Armathwaite" as her
+promised husband, while their astonished eyes were only paralleled by
+Meg's own when the tall, grave-looking stranger proceeded to explain
+that he was not Robert Armathwaite, but Sir Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.
+
+Marguérite, at first, believed he was joking. When he assured her he was
+even more serious than usual, she relieved the situation by making an
+elaborate curtsey to her own reflection in an old-fashioned mirror in
+the drawing-room.
+
+"Lady Dalrymple!" she cried. "Presented at court by her humble self! Sir
+Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.! Lady Dalrymple, K.I.S.S.!"
+
+Whereupon, she proceeded to invest each of them with her own order.
+
+When the bench, the bar, the police, and the press were duly represented
+that afternoon, Mr. Stephen Ogilvey spoke fully and frankly. His wife
+and daughter were present, and, if Mrs. Ogilvey wept a little during the
+recital, it was only natural.
+
+For she alone knew what this gentle-voiced, white-haired man had endured
+during those June days two years ago.
+
+Even the tender-hearted Marguérite could never realize the exquisite
+torture which her father had suffered voluntarily. Perhaps the presence
+of her lover, combined with the reaction of the discovery that her
+father had committed no actual crime, rendered her temporarily incapable
+of appreciating the motives which accounted for his actions.
+
+Be that as it may, this is his story:
+
+"To make clear the reason which led me to deceive my friends in Elmdale
+in such an extraordinary way, I must go back twenty-four years in my
+life. I was then thirty-five years of age, and Professor of Philology in
+a recently-formed University in the Midlands. I was married, but, as
+some of you know, my first and only child was not born until the events
+happened which drove me into retirement, and led my dear wife and myself
+to seek the peace and seclusion of Elmdale."
+
+It is not to be wondered at if Dalrymple and Marguérite exchanged
+smiling glances at those words; but the Professor's strange narrative
+should not be interrupted by lovers' confidences.
+
+"I am a man of highly sensitive nature," he went on, "and my mind almost
+gave way under the shock when my brother James, somewhat older than
+myself, who occupied a prominent position in Birmingham as manager of an
+important private bank, was reported missing from his office under
+circumstances which pointed to a serious and systematic embezzlement of
+the bank's funds. Day by day the scandal enlarged its bounds. The bank
+closed its doors; hundreds of people were ruined; there were several
+cases of suicide among the robbed depositors; and, at last, my brother,
+James Ogilvey, was arrested in France, owing to a chance meeting with a
+man who knew him. He was brought to trial, sentenced to a long term of
+penal servitude, and passed into seeming oblivion accompanied by the
+curses of thousands. My wife and I literally could not hold up our heads
+among our friends in the Midlands, and, as we were not wholly dependent
+on my earnings, we resolved to change our name and start life anew. At
+that crisis, my mother died. Undoubtedly her death was hastened by my
+brother's wrong-doing, and it is probable that she destroyed a will
+already in existence, meaning to make another, but was stricken down by
+apoplexy before she could carry out her intention. At any rate, no will
+was found, so her property became intestate. This house and ground
+belonged to her, but she was unknown locally, as she left Elmdale more
+than half a century ago, so, after settling some legal matters, my wife
+and I determined to live here, and adopt my wife's maiden name. There
+was no great difficulty. I still continued to do my work, which was
+mainly of a specialist nature, under my own name, but in Elmdale I was
+always 'Stephen Garth,' and the catastrophe in the Midlands soon passed
+into the mists when our child was born.
+
+"We reasoned that by the time she grew to womanhood, the memory of James
+Ogilvey's crime would have died away. At any rate, there was nothing to
+be gained by letting her know that such a person had ever existed, and
+you can take it from me that she was ignorant of the fact until a late
+hour yesterday. Some eight years ago, my unfortunate brother was
+released. I met him in London, supplied him with ample funds, and sent
+him to the Colonies, taking good care that he should know neither my
+altered name nor my address. I heard no more of him until the beginning
+of June, two years since, when he wrote to me as 'Stephen Garth,' said
+he was coming to live in my house, being tired of a roving life, and
+threatened to take lodgings in the village if I did not receive him.
+Now, my wife and I were determined that he should never cross our
+daughter's path if we could help it, so a journey to France was
+resolved on hastily and the two took their departure. For my own part, I
+decided to await my brother's coming, and try to reason with him. If he
+proved obdurate, I meant to join my wife and daughter abroad, and, to
+that end, as Mr. Dobb is aware, I made over all my property to my wife
+in trust for my daughter. This step was necessary, I believe, to save
+them from persecution at my brother's hands, because he had hinted at
+some grievance with regard to the disposition of my mother's estate, a
+grievance quite unfounded, since I had dealt with him most generously on
+his release from prison. In order to conceal his presence from the
+villagers until I had tried every argument to prevail on him to leave me
+and my family in peace, I arranged to meet him at Leyburn, and drive to
+the edge of the moor. I brought him to the house without anyone being
+the wiser, but I soon found I was a child in his hands. He played on my
+fear of publicity by agreeing to lie _perdu_ if I would supply him with
+drink. I bore with the infliction for some days until, driven to
+despair, I refused to purchase any more alcohol. There was a furious
+scene between us, and he threatened not merely exposure, but legal
+proceedings to force me to 'disgorge,' as he put it, his share of the
+property left by our mother, whose maiden name, by the way, Faulkner,
+is well known here. I realize now that James was in a state verging on
+dementia, but I may sum up a distressing period of four days and nights
+of suffering by saying that, in a final paroxysm of rage, he was seized
+with apoplexy, and died almost instantaneously.
+
+"Though convinced that he was dead, I hoped against hope for some hours.
+Then _rigor mortis_ set in, and I knew that the only man who had ever
+inflicted an injury on my good name had struck his last and shrewdest
+blow by dying in my house. I want you to consider the position I was in.
+A man, a stranger, was lying there dead, in circumstances that demanded
+an inquest. I had not called for a doctor, or obtained any assistance
+locally. I had sent my wife and daughter to a foreign country, obviously
+to get them out of the way. A _post-mortem_ examination would show that
+death had taken place nearly a day before I made any stir. If I
+destroyed certain documents in my brother's possession--such, for
+instance, as a ticket of leave, which he had retained long after its
+expiry for the mere purpose, I firmly believe, of bringing pressure to
+bear on me--there would be nothing to show his identity. In a word,
+there was a _prima facie_ case of murder ready to be established against
+me. Of course, the medical evidence would go to prove my innocence, but
+all the world--all of my small world, at any rate--would gape and gossip
+because of the scandal which my wife and I had given more than twenty
+years of our life to escape. For the sake of my wife and daughter I
+resolved upon a daring expedient. The 'Ogilvey fraud' of a previous
+generation was forgotten. Why should I not resume my own name, and let
+my brother die and be buried as Stephen Garth? I saw that my own
+behavior during the past week would help the assumption that I had
+committed suicide, while a rather marked resemblance between my brother
+and myself, together with the fact that he had died from apoplexy, would
+complete the illusion. Moreover, there exists, in connection with this
+very house, a curious legend which condemned seven generations of its
+owners to die by violence, either self-inflicted, or caused by others.
+James Ogilvey's death was the seventh, and I trusted to this alleged
+prophecy of a Spanish priest put to death by a sea-rover named Faulkner
+in the seventeenth century being sufficiently well known in connection
+with a shadow, or manifestation, cast on the wall by a stained-glass
+window in the staircase.
+
+"At any rate, I steeled my heart to a dreadful undertaking, dressed my
+brother in my own clothes, tied his body to a hook in the hall where
+the shadow I have spoken of is seen at this time of the year, and stole
+away across the moor after writing a letter to the coroner.
+
+"Gentlemen, I believe I have broken the law in some respects, and I am
+prepared to suffer for my misdeeds. Perhaps, a long and blameless and
+not wholly useless life may plead for me now. I acted as I did because
+of a certain pride in my work, and because of my love for a dear wife
+and daughter. I dreamed that the dead past had indeed buried its dead
+but, by a most unusual combination of simple circumstances, the whole
+strange story has been brought to light. I have nothing more to say. Now
+that a long ordeal of silence is ended, I am happier to-day than I ever
+thought to be again in my existence. I can produce a certain number of
+documents to prove what I may term the historical part of my confession.
+The really vital part of it--the manner of my brother's death--can
+receive no other testimony than my own, eked out by such statement as my
+friend, Dr. Scaife, may find himself able to make after hearing my
+version of the tragedy."
+
+Marguérite ran to her father and threw her arms around his neck.
+
+"If they take you before a judge, dad," she cried, "let me go into court
+and tell them that I was the cause of all the trouble. Then he will
+warn me not to be such a bad little girl, and sympathize with you so
+greatly that he will say you leave the court without a stain on your
+character."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As a matter of fact, owing to the attitude of the authorities and with
+the active assistance of Banks in the columns of the _Nuttonby Gazette_,
+the official inquiry into the affair attracted very little notice. A
+ten-line paragraph explained that it was Mr. James Ogilvey who died, and
+not Mr. Stephen Garth, and a special faculty was obtained to correct the
+announcement on the stone in Bellerby churchyard. Naturally, the people
+in Elmdale and the neighborhood had a pretty fair knowledge of the
+truth, but everyone was so pleased to see the "professor" and his wife
+again that the thing was hushed up with remarkable ease. Even Percy
+Whittaker held his tongue.
+
+Village gossip has it that Storr, the chauffeur, is badly smitten by
+Betty Jackson's charms. The girl's mother clinched matters by grumbling
+that "sen Betty's gotten a young man there's no doin' owt wi' her." And
+Begonia Smith turned the garden into a fairy-land that summer.
+
+The Black Prince received his new and most impressive set of features
+before a certain noteworthy marriage took place, and beamed a courtly
+approval on the bride when she descended the stairs in her wedding
+dress. In fact, the Elmdale tragedy received its quietus when James
+Walker, senior, and James Walker, junior, watched Sir Robert and Lady
+Dalrymple drive past their office _en route_ to Paris and the Continent.
+
+Said the father:
+
+"Little things often lead to the most surprising events. Who'd ha'
+thought, Jimmie, when we let the 'House 'Round the Corner' to a stranger
+named Robert Armathwaite, that we were indirectly bringing about the
+marriage of Meg Garth to Sir Robert Dalrymple?"
+
+"Well, I didn't, for one!" said the son gloomily.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+
+_THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS_
+
+A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.
+
+_THE RAINBOW TRAIL_
+
+The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.
+
+_DESERT GOLD_
+
+The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
+the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
+is the story's heroine.
+
+_RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE_
+
+A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.
+
+_THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN_
+
+This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
+known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
+and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."
+
+_THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT_
+
+A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
+New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
+become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem
+of this great story.
+
+_THE SHORT STOP_
+
+The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
+fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
+followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.
+
+_BETTY ZANE_
+
+This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.
+
+_THE LONE STAR RANGER_
+
+After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
+the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
+young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
+upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
+side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.
+
+_THE BORDER LEGION_
+
+Joan Handle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
+and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to
+health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an
+outlaw, observes Jim in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
+thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.
+
+_THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS._
+
+By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey
+
+The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+
+_"K."_
+
+Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+_THE MAN IN LOWER TEN._
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+_WHEN A MAN MARRIES._
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+_THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE._
+
+Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+_THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS._
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
+
+
+_SEVENTEEN._
+
+Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
+
+No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
+people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
+time when the reader was Seventeen.
+
+_PENROD._
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
+
+This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.
+
+_PENROD AND SAM._
+
+Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
+
+Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
+of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
+that have ever been written.
+
+_THE TURMOIL._
+
+Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
+
+Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
+father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
+fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.
+
+_THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA._
+
+Frontispiece.
+
+A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country
+editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
+interest.
+
+_THE FLIRT._
+
+Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
+
+The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
+drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
+to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
+suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES
+
+
+_MOTHER._
+
+Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
+
+This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality
+of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's
+experiences.
+
+_SATURDAY'S CHILD._
+
+Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.
+
+Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth
+and service--and works out a creditable salvation.
+
+_THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE._
+
+Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.
+
+The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be
+swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.
+
+_THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE._
+
+Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.
+
+How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.
+
+_THE HEART OF RACHAEL._
+
+Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
+
+Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these,
+there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most
+appealing characters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SEWELL FORD'S STORIES
+
+
+_SHORTY McCABE._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+A very humorous story, The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.
+
+_SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human
+nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."
+
+_SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to
+the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.
+
+_SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.
+
+_TORCHY._
+
+Illus, by Geo. Brehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg.
+
+A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the
+youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.
+
+_TRYING OUT TORCHY._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.
+
+_ON WITH TORCHY._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but
+that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart,
+which brings about many hilariously funny situations.
+
+_TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.
+
+_WILT THOU TORCHY._
+
+Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown.
+
+Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast,
+in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his
+friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place
+an engagement ring on Vee's finger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
+
+WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
+
+
+_MAVERICKS._
+
+A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations
+are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
+of the sweetest love stories ever told.
+
+_A TEXAS RANGER._
+
+How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into
+the mesquite, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
+
+_WYOMING._
+
+In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
+
+_RIDGWAY OF MONTANA._
+
+The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and
+mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.
+
+_BUCKY O'CONNOR._
+
+Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.
+
+_CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT._
+
+A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter
+feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual
+woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.
+
+_BRAND BLOTTERS._
+
+A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 39432-8.txt or 39432-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/9/4/3/39432
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The House 'Round the Corner, by Gordon Holmes</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The House 'Round the Corner</p>
+<p>Author: Gordon Holmes</p>
+<p>Release Date: April 12, 2012  [eBook #39432]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by D Alexander, Mary Meehan,<br />
+    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
+    from page images generously made available by<br />
+    Internet Archive<br />
+    (<a href="http://archive.org">http://archive.org</a>)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      <a href="http://archive.org/details/houseroundcorner00traciala">
+      http://archive.org/details/houseroundcorner00traciala</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER</h1>
+
+<h2>BY GORDON HOLMES</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3>
+
+<h3>A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, THE ARNCLIFFE PUZZLE, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center">NEW YORK<br />
+GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP<br />
+PUBLISHERS</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1919, by</span><br />
+EDWARD J. CLODE</p>
+
+<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<table summary="contents">
+<tr><td align="right">CHAPTER </td><td></td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Wherein the House Receives a New Tenant</span> </td><td align="right">1</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Showing How Even a House May Have a Way of Its Own</span> </td><td align="right">21</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">A Midnight Seance</span> </td><td align="right">42</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Showing How Explanations Do Not Always Explain</span> </td><td align="right">63</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Gathering Clouds</span> </td><td align="right">84</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Storm Breaks</span> </td><td align="right">106</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">A Faint-Hearted Ally</span> </td><td align="right">127</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Wherin Percy Whittaker Proves Himself a Man of Action</span> </td><td align="right">147</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Showing the Real Strength of an Illusion</span> </td><td align="right">167</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Armathwaite States a Case</span> </td><td align="right">185</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Preparations for Battle</span> </td><td align="right">206</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Dawn of a Black Friday</span> </td><td align="right">226</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">Deus ex Machina</span> </td><td align="right">246</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">In Which the Area Widens</span> </td><td align="right">267</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV. </a></td><td><span class="smcap">The Laying of the Ghost</span> </td><td align="right">287</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>WHEREIN THE HOUSE RECEIVES A NEW TENANT</h3>
+
+
+<p>The train had panted twelve miles up a sinuous valley, halting at three
+tiny stations on the way; it dwelt so long at the fourth that the
+occupant of a first-class carriage raised his eyes from the book he was
+reading. He found the platform packed with country folk, all heading in
+the same direction. Hitherto, this heedless traveller had been aware of
+some station-master or porter bawling an unintelligible name; now, his
+fellow-passengers seemed to know what place this was without being told;
+moreover, they seemed to be alighting there.</p>
+
+<p>A porter, whose face, hands, and clothing were of one harmonious tint,
+suggesting that he had been dipped bodily in some brownish dye, and then
+left to dry in the sun, opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you gettin' out, sir?" he inquired, and his tone implied both
+surprise and pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Nuttonby?" said the passenger.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Why this crush of traffic?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's market day, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks. I didn't expect to see such a crowd. Have you a parcels
+office, where I can leave some baggage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Hang on to this bag, then. There are three boxes in the van. You'll
+need a barrow&mdash;they're heavy!"</p>
+
+<p>By this time, the man who knew so little of important Nuttonby&mdash;which
+held 3,005 inhabitants in the 1911 census, having increased by two since
+1901&mdash;had risen, and was collecting a fisherman's outfit, and some odds
+and ends of personal belongings. He followed the porter, who, on eyeing
+the rods and pannier, and with some knowledge of "county" manners, had
+accepted the stranger as entitled to hold a first-class ticket. Sure
+enough, the boxes were heavy. The guard had to assist in handling them.</p>
+
+<p>"By gum!" said the porter, when he tried to lift the first on to a
+trolley.</p>
+
+<p>"Books," explained the traveler.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought mebbe they wuz lead," said the porter.</p>
+
+<p>"Some books have that quality," said the other.</p>
+
+<p>The guard, a reader in his spare time, smiled. The owner of so much
+solid literature seized a stout leather handle.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you a hand," he said, and the porter soon added to his slight
+store of facts concerning the newcomer. This tall, sparsely-built man
+in tweeds and a deer-stalker cap was no weakling.</p>
+
+<p>The platform was nearly empty when the porter began to trundle the
+loaded trolley along its length. A pert youth appeared from nowhere, and
+cried "Ticket!" firmly, almost threateningly. He was given a first-class
+ticket from York, and a receipt for excess luggage. The bit of white
+paste-board startled him. "Thank you, sir," he said. First-class
+passengers were rare birds at Nuttonby; too late, he knew he ought to
+have said "Ticket, please!"</p>
+
+<p>The same pert youth, appearing again from nowhere, officiated in the
+parcels office. He noticed that none of the articles bore a name or
+initials; they were brand-new; their only railway labels were "York,
+from King's Cross," and "Nuttonby, from York."</p>
+
+<p>"Book the bag and these small articles separately," he was instructed.
+"I may want them soon. The boxes may be sent for this afternoon; I don't
+know yet." He turned to the porter: "Is there a house agent in the
+town?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir&mdash;two."</p>
+
+<p>"Which is the better&mdash;the man with the larger <i>clientèle</i>&mdash;sorry, I mean
+with the greater number of houses on his books?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, Walker an' Son have bin in business here fifty year an'
+more."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try Walker. Where's his place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Next door the 'Red Lion,' sir."</p>
+
+<p>Then the youth, anxious to atone, and rather quicker-witted than the
+brown-hued one, got in a word.</p>
+
+<p>"The 'Red Lion' is halfway up the main street, sir. Turn to your right
+when you leave here, an' you're there in two minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll show the gentleman," said the porter, who had decided a month ago
+that this blooming kid was putting on airs. He was as good as his
+word&mdash;or nearly so. A tip of half a crown was stupefying, but he
+gathered his wits in time to say brokenly at the exit:</p>
+
+<p>"Wu-Wu-Walker's is straight up, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Straight up the stranger went. The wide street was crammed with stalls,
+farmers' carts, carriers' carts, dog-carts, even a couple of
+automobiles, for Wednesday, being market day, was also police-court day
+and Board of Guardians day. He passed unheeded. On Wednesdays, Nuttonby
+was a metropolis; on any other day in the week he would have drawn
+dozens of curious eyes, peeping surreptitiously over short curtains, or
+more candidly in the open. Of course, he was seen by many, since
+Nuttonby was not so metropolitan that it failed to detect a new face,
+even on Wednesdays; but his style and appearance were of the gentry;
+Nuttonby decided that he had strayed in from some "big" house in the
+district.</p>
+
+<p>Walker &amp; Son, it would seem, were auctioneers, land valuers, and probate
+estimators as well as house agents. Their office was small, but not
+retiring. It displayed a well-developed rash of sale posters, inside and
+out. One, in particular, was heroic in size. It told of a "spacious
+mansion, with well-timbered park," having been put up for auction&mdash;five
+years earlier. Whiteness of paper and blackness of type suggested that
+Walker &amp; Son periodically renewed this aristocrat among auction
+announcements&mdash;perhaps to kindle a selling spirit among the landed
+gentry, a notoriously conservative and hold-tight class.</p>
+
+<p>A young man, seated behind a counter, reading a sporting newspaper, and
+smoking a cigarette, rose hastily when the caller entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," he said, thereby implying instant readiness to engage in one
+or all of the firm's activities.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Mr. Walker?" said the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I thought you might be the son."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am, if it comes to that. Do you want my father?"</p>
+
+<p>Walker, junior, was a Nuttonby "nut"&mdash;a sharp young blade who did not
+tolerate chaff.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to rent a furnished house in or near a quiet country village,
+where there is some good fishing," was the answer. "Now, you can
+determine whether I should trouble Mr. Walker, senior, or not?"</p>
+
+<p>"No trouble at all, sir! He'll be here in ten seconds."</p>
+
+<p>Walker, junior, had nearly made the same mistake as the
+ticket-collecting youth; however, he estimated time correctly. He went
+out, put his head through the open window of the "Red Lion's"
+bar-parlor, and shouted: "Dad, you're wanted!" Thus, within ten seconds,
+the stranger saw the firm!</p>
+
+<p>He repeated his need, and there was a great parade of big-leafed books,
+while the elder Walker ascertained the prospective client's exact
+requirements. Whittled down to bare facts, they amounted to this: A
+house, in a small and remote village, and a trout stream. The absolute
+seclusion of the village and its diminutive proportions were insisted
+on, and property after property was rejected, though the Walkers were
+puzzled to know why.</p>
+
+<p>This distinguished-looking man wished to find a dwelling far removed
+from any social center. His ideal was a tiny moorland hamlet, miles from
+the railway, and out of the beaten track of summer visitors. Suddenly,
+the son cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Elmdale is the very place, dad!"</p>
+
+<p>Dad's face brightened, but clouded again instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean&mdash;er&mdash;the house 'round the corner?" he said, pursing his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid it wouldn't suit."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" put in the stranger. "I rather like the name."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't mention any name, sir," and Walker, senior, still looked glum.</p>
+
+<p>"You described it as the house 'round the corner&mdash;an excellent name. It
+attracts me. Where is Elmdale?"</p>
+
+<p>The head of the firm pointed to a map of the North Riding hanging above
+the fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are," he said, seizing a pen and running it along the
+meandering black line of a stream. "Eight miles from Nuttonby, and
+thousands from every other town&mdash;on the edge of the moor&mdash;about forty
+houses in the village&mdash;and a first-rate beck, with trout running from
+four ounces to half a pound&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But what?"</p>
+
+<p>"The house, sir. You won't like the house."</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. It's comfortable enough, and well furnished."</p>
+
+<p>Yet again he hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it appears to be, as your son said, the very place."</p>
+
+<p>Walker, senior, smiled drearily. He knew what was coming.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't recommend it, sir, and for this reason. A gentleman named
+Garth&mdash;Mr. Stephen Garth; some sort of professor, I understand&mdash;lived
+there a many years, with his wife and daughter. Nice, quiet people they
+were, and the young lady was a beauty. No one could make out why they
+should wish to be buried alive in a hole like Elmdale, but they seemed
+happy enough. Then, two years since, in this very month of June, Mrs.
+Garth and the girl drove into Nuttonby in their governess car, and went
+off by train, sending the trap back by a hired man. Mr. Garth mooned
+about for a week or two, and then hanged himself one evening alongside a
+grandfather's clock which stands in the hall. That made a rare stir, I
+can tell you; since then, no one will look at the Grange, which is its
+proper name. I need hardly say that the villagers have seen Mr. Garth's
+ghost many times, particularly in June, because in that month the
+setting sun throws a peculiar shadow through a stained-glass window on
+the half landing. Last year I let the place to a Sheffield family who
+wanted moorland air. My! What a row there was when Mrs. Wilkins heard of
+the suicide, and, of course, saw the ghost! It was all I could do to
+stave off an action for damages. 'Never again,' said I. 'If anybody
+else rents or buys the house, they take the ghost with it.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it for sale?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! Neither Mrs. Garth nor Miss Marguérite have come near Elmdale
+since they left. They didn't attend the funeral, and I may add, in
+confidence, that Messrs. Holloway &amp; Dobb, solicitors in this town, who
+have charge of their affairs&mdash;so far as the ownership of the Grange
+goes, at any rate&mdash;do not know their whereabouts. It is a sad story,
+sir."</p>
+
+<p>The would-be tenant was apparently unmoved by the story's sadness.</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of house is it?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Old-fashioned, roomy, with oaken rafters, and a Jacobean grate in the
+dining-room. Five bedrooms. Fine garden, with its own well, fed by a
+spring. The kind of seventeenth-century dwelling that would fetch a high
+rent nowadays if near a town. As it is, I'd be glad to take sixty pounds
+a year for it, or submit an offer."</p>
+
+<p>"Furnished?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, and some decent stuff in it, too. I'm surprised Messrs.
+Holloway &amp; Dobb don't sell that, anyhow; but I believe they have a sort
+of order from Mrs. Garth that the property is to be sold as it stands,
+and not broken up piece-meal."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you describe it as the house 'round the corner?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Walker smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"That was for my son's benefit, sir," he explained. "The Elmdale
+cottages are clustered together on the roadside. The Grange stands above
+them, at one end, and a few yards up a road leading to the moor. It
+commands a fine view, too," he added regretfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take it," said the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Walker, junior, looked jubilant, but his father's years had weakened
+confidence in mankind. Many a good let was lost ere the agreement was
+signed and this one was beset by special difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>"If you give me your name and address, I'll consult Messrs. Holloway &amp;
+Dobb&mdash;&mdash;" he began, and was probably more astonished than he would care
+to confess by the would-be tenant's emphatic interruption&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Is this property to let, or is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. Haven't I said so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well! I offer you a quarter's rent, payable to you or your son
+when I have looked at the place. As a matter of form, I would like one
+of you to accompany me to Elmdale at once, because I must inquire into
+the fishing. I suppose you can hire a conveyance of sorts to take us
+there? Of course, in any event, I shall pay your fee for the journey. My
+name is Robert Armathwaite. I am a stranger in this part of Yorkshire,
+but if you, or Messrs. Holloway &amp; Dobb, care to call at the local bank,
+say, in three days' time, you will be satisfied as to my financial
+standing. I'll sign an agreement for a yearly tenancy, terminable
+thereafter by three months' written notice, when I pay the first
+installment of the rent. As the place is furnished, you will probably
+stipulate for payment in advance throughout. I fancy you can draw up
+such an agreement in half an hour, and, if there is an inventory, it
+should be checked and initialed when we visit the house. Does that
+arrangement suit you?"</p>
+
+<p>The Walkers were prosperous and pompous, but they knew when to sink
+their pomposity.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, it <i>can</i> be done," agreed the elder man.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. Which is the leading bank here?"</p>
+
+<p>Walker, senior, indicated a building directly opposite.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have a word with the manager," said Mr. Armathwaite. "If I'm here
+in half an hour, will you have a carriage waiting?"</p>
+
+<p>"A dog-cart, sir. My own. My son will attend to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent. Evidently, your firm understands business."</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Armathwaite went out.</p>
+
+<p>The Walkers watched as he crossed the road, and entered the bank. Their
+side of the street being higher than the other, they could see, above
+the frosted lower half of the bank's window, that he approached the
+counter, and was ushered into the manager's private room.</p>
+
+<p>"What d'ye make of it, dad?" inquired the "nut," forgetting his
+importance in the absorbing interest of the moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad" tickled his bald scalp with the handle of the pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what," he said solemnly. "Some houses have an attraction for
+queer folk. Whoever built the Grange where it is must have been daft.
+The people who lived there when I was a young man were a bit touched.
+Mr. Garth was mad, we know, an' Mrs. Wilkins was the silliest woman I
+ever met. Now comes this one."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>He</i> looks all right."</p>
+
+<p>"You never can tell. At any rate, we'll take his money, and welcome. I
+asked sixty, but wouldn't have sneezed at forty. Neither would Holloway
+&amp; Dobb; they've some costs to collect since the Wilkins' affair. Go and
+get the trap ready. And mind you, Jim, no hanky-panky."</p>
+
+<p>The youthful Walker winked.</p>
+
+<p>"You leave that to me," he said. "What about the fee&mdash;will he stand a
+guinea?"</p>
+
+<p>"You might try it, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>At the appointed time, half-past eleven o'clock, Mr. Armathwaite came,
+carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. He cast an appreciative
+eye at a wiry cob, put the parcel in the back of the waiting dog-cart,
+and climbed to the seat beside the younger Walker, now attired <i>de
+rigueur</i> for the country.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kindly call at the railway station?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>The request was unexpected, but the driver nodded, and showed some skill
+in turning through the congeries of vehicles which crowded the street.</p>
+
+<p>At the station, the bag and other small articles were withdrawn from the
+parcels office, and deposited beside the package in brown paper. James
+Walker was mystified, but said nothing. Returning through the main
+street, he answered a few questions concerning local matters, and, once
+in the open country, grew voluble under the influence of a first-rate
+Havana proffered by his companion. Men of his type often estimate their
+fellows by a tobacco standard, and Walker privately appraised the cigar
+as "worth a bob, at the lowest figure." From that instant, Mr. Robert
+Armathwaite and Mr. James Walker took up their relative positions
+without demur on the part of either.</p>
+
+<p>Oddly enough, seeing that the newcomer had expressed his dislike for
+society, he listened with interest to bits of gossip concerning the
+owners of the various estates passed on the way. He was specially keen
+on names, even inquiring as to what families one titled landowner was
+connected with by marriage. Then, as to the fishing, could the Walkers
+arrange that for him?</p>
+
+<p>Forgetting his 'cuteness, Walker settled the point off-hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better deal with the matter yourself, sir," he said. "There'll
+be no difficulty. Nearly all the Elmdale farms are freeholds, most of
+'em with common rights on the moor. Why, when one of 'em changes hands,
+the buyer has the right to take over all the sheep footed on the
+seller's part of the moor. P'raps you don't know what 'footed' means.
+Sheep will always go back to the place where they were raised, and the
+habit is useful when they stray over an open moorland. So, you see, all
+you have to do is to get permission from two or three farmers, and you
+can fish for miles."</p>
+
+<p>He tried to talk of the Garths, particularly of the pretty daughter, but
+his hearer's attention wandered; obviously, information as to the ways
+and habits of the local yeomanry was more to Mr. Armathwaite's taste
+than a "nut's" gushing about a good-looking girl.</p>
+
+<p>Within an hour, after five miles of fair roadway and two of a
+switchback, mostly rising, Walker pointed with his whip to a thin line
+of red-tiled houses, here and there a thatched roof among them,
+nestling at the foot of a gill, or ravine, which pierced the side of a
+gaunt moorland. Above the hamlet, at the eastern end, rose an
+old-fashioned stone house, square, with a portico in the center, and a
+high-pitched roof of stone slabs.</p>
+
+<p>"There's Elmdale," he said, "and that's the Grange. Looks a god-forsaken
+hole, doesn't it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you pay heed to the real meanings of words, no place on earth merits
+that description," said Mr. Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>Walker was no whit abashed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no," he grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to have asked sooner, but have you brought any keys?"</p>
+
+<p>The agent instinct warned the other that his choice of an adjective had
+been unwise in more ways than one.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right, sir," he said cheerfully. "The keys are kept in the
+village&mdash;at Mrs. Jackson's. She's a useful old body. If you want a
+housekeeper, she and her daughter would suit you down to the ground."</p>
+
+<p>Little more was said until the steaming pony was pulled up in front of a
+thatched cottage. Seen thus intimately, and in the blaze of a June sun,
+Elmdale suggested coziness. Each house, no matter what its size, had a
+garden in front and an orchard behind. Long, narrow pastures ran
+steeply up to the moor, and cattle and sheep were grazing in them. There
+were crops on the lower land. For all its remoteness, Elmdale faced
+south, and its earth was fertile.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite sat in the dog-cart while James Walker ran up the strip of
+flower-laden garden, and peered in through a low doorway. In later days,
+the singular fact was borne in on Armathwaite that had his companion
+adopted any other method of making known his business&mdash;had he, for
+instance, shouted to Mrs. Jackson or her daughter, Betty, and asked for
+the keys of the Grange&mdash;the whole course of his subsequent life would
+unquestionably have been altered. A loose stone under the foot of an
+emperor's horse may change the map of the world. In this instance, a
+remarkable, and, in some respects, unique series of events arose solely
+from the fact that Walker, junior, was of active habit, and alighted
+from the vehicle in preference to announcing his wishes for others to
+hear; because Betty Jackson, at that moment, was plucking gooseberries
+in the back garden, and knew nothing of what was going on until a
+country maid's belated wit failed completely to stem the tide of
+circumstance.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite caught scraps of a brief but seemingly heated argument going
+on inside the cottage. It was couched in the Yorkshire dialect, which
+he understood, to some extent, but could not speak. Then Walker, a
+gallant figure in straw hat, gray coat, red waistcoat with gilded
+buttons, breeches and gaiters and brown boots, strutted into sight. He
+was red-faced and laughing, and a bundle of keys jingled in one hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Jackson's as bad as any of 'em," he cried, springing to his seat
+and taking the reins from a clip on the dash-board. "Made such a to-do
+about anyone looking over the house. Asked if you'd heard of the ghost,
+too. And, blow me, if she didn't pretend she'd mislaid the keys! We
+wouldn't have got 'em for a deuce of a time if I hadn't twigged 'em
+hanging on a nail, and grabbed 'em. Then she gave me my name for
+nothing, I can assure you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet you recommended her for the post of housekeeper," said Armathwaite,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. She's a rare good cook, and tidy, too. Can't make out what's
+come over her. She was fair scared to death."</p>
+
+<p>Walker's statement as to Mrs. Jackson's behavior was by no means highly
+colored. Before he reached the dog-cart, the old woman had hurried into
+the back garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Betty!" she shrilled. "Betty, where are you?"</p>
+
+<p>A head in a poke-bonnet rose above a clump of tall gooseberry bushes,
+and a voice answered:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Run, girl, run! What's to be done? Mr. Walker has brought a man to look
+at the house."</p>
+
+<p>"What house?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Grange, to be sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother!"</p>
+
+<p>Betty ran quickly enough now. She was a strongly-built, apple-cheeked
+lass; but there was a glint of fear in her eyes, and the faces of both
+mother and daughter had gone gray under the tan of moor air and much
+work in the open.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever can we do?" cried Mrs. Jackson, with the hopeless distress of
+a woman overwhelmed by some unforeseen and tragic occurrence. "That
+impudent young Walker came and snatched at the keys before I could stop
+him. And they've gone there, the pair of 'em! There they are
+now&mdash;halfway up the hill."</p>
+
+<p>All this, of course, was couched in "broad Yorkshire," which, however,
+need not enter into the record. The two gazed at the men in the
+dog-cart, who were partly visible above a yew hedge, since the by-road
+in which the Grange was situated turned up the hill by the gable of Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother!" said the girl, in awe-stricken accents, "why didn't you
+hide 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"How was I to hide 'em? I was knocked all of a heap. Who'd have thought
+of anyone coming here to-day, of all days in the year?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who's that with him?" Betty almost sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>"The man who's going over the house, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear! If only I'd known! I'd have taken the keys and gone with
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"What good would that have done?"</p>
+
+<p>"I might have humbugged them into waiting a minute or two. I'd have
+thought of some excuse. But don't worry too much, mother. Maybe they'll
+give the least little look round, and come away again."</p>
+
+<p>"And maybe they won't," cried Mrs. Jackson angrily, for she was
+recovering from her fright, and her daughter's implied reproach was
+irritating. "I did my best, and it can't be helped now, no matter what
+happens. Run after them, Betty, and offer to help. You may manage
+something, even now."</p>
+
+<p>The girl needed no second bidding. She was through the cottage and out
+in the road in a jiffy. But she had lost a minute or more already, and
+the sturdy galloway was climbing a steep hill quickly. When she reached
+a garden gate to which the reins were tied, the front door of the Grange
+stood open, and the visitors were inside.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" she breathed, in a heart-broken way. "Oh, dear! If only
+mother had called me sooner! Now, it's too late! And I promised that no
+one should know. Well, I must do my best. Just a bit of luck, and I may
+pull things straight yet!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOWING HOW EVEN A HOUSE MAY HAVE A WAY OF ITS OWN</h3>
+
+
+<p>While Walker was fiddling with the lock, not being quite sure as to the
+right key, Armathwaite had eyed the southern landscape. Elmdale was six
+hundred feet above sea level, and the Grange stood fully a hundred feet
+higher than the village, so a far-flung panorama of tillage, pasture,
+and woodland provided a delightful picture on that glorious June day. To
+the north, he knew, stretched miles of wild moor, and the heather began
+where the spacious garden ended. A glance at the map in the Walkers'
+office had shown that this bleak waste was crossed by mere tracks,
+marked in the dotted lines which motorists abhor. Indeed, the very road
+leading to the house was not macadamized beyond the gate; two years of
+disuse had converted even the stone-covered portion into a sort of
+meadow, because grass, the sulkiest of vegetables in a well-tended lawn,
+will grow luxuriantly on a granite wall if left alone.</p>
+
+<p>Truly, Elmdale seemed to be at the end of the world&mdash;the world of
+Yorkshire, at any rate&mdash;and Robert Armathwaite found its aspect
+pleasing. A lock clicked; he turned, and entered a domain he was now
+fully resolved to make his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm blest!" said Walker, speaking in a surprised way; "anyone 'ud
+think the place hadn't been empty an hour, let alone two years, not
+countin' Mrs. Wilkins's couple of nights. I wonder who left these
+clothes, and hats, and things!"</p>
+
+<p>He had good reason for a certain stare of bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>The door, which was stoutly built, with a pane of sheet glass in the
+upper half, opened straight into a spacious, oak-paneled hall. Left and
+right were a dining-room and a drawing-room, each containing two
+windows. Behind the dining-room a wide staircase gave access to the
+upper floors, and a flood of rich and variously-tinted light from a long
+arched window glowed on the dark panels below, and glistened on the
+polished mahogany case of a grandfather's clock which faced the foot of
+the stairs. The wall opposite the entrance was pierced by a half-open
+door, through which could be seen laden bookshelves reaching up eight
+feet or more. Another door, beyond the stairway, showed the only
+possible means of approach to the kitchen and domestic offices.</p>
+
+<p>There were no pictures in the hall, but some antique plates and dishes
+of blue china were ranged on a shelf above the wainscot, and a narrow
+table and four straight-backed chairs, all of oak, were in tasteful
+keeping with the surroundings. On each side of the dining-room door were
+double rows of hooks, and on these hung the garments which had caught
+the agent's eye.</p>
+
+<p>A bowler hat, a frayed panama, a cap, a couple of overcoats, even a
+lady's hat and mackintosh, lent an air of occupancy to the house, which
+was not diminished by the presence of several sticks and umbrellas in a
+couple of Chinese porcelain stands. Walker took down the panama. It was
+dust-laden, and the inner band of leather had a clammy feeling. He
+replaced it hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the Professor's," he said, trying to speak unconcernedly. "I
+remember seeing him in it, many a time."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite noticed the action, and was aware of a peculiar <i>timbre</i> in
+Walker's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, suppose we lay that ghost, and have done with it," he said
+quietly. "Where did my worthy and retrospective landlord hang himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"There," said Walker, indicating a solitary hook screwed through the
+china shelf near the clock. "That bronze thing," pointing to a Burmese
+gong lying on the floor, "used to hang there. He took it down, tied the
+rope to the hook, and kicked a chair away.... If you come here," and he
+advanced a few paces, "you'll see why a ghost appears."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Walker," bleated someone timidly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Walker unquestionably jumped, and quite as unquestionably swore,
+even when he recognized Betty Jackson, standing in the porch.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it?" he cried gruffly, hoping his companion has missed
+that display of nerves.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sir, mother thought&mdash;" began the girl; but the startled "nut"
+was annoyed, and showed it.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care what your mother thinks," he shouted. "Refusing me the
+keys, indeed! What next? I've a good mind to report her to Messrs.
+Holloway &amp; Dobb."</p>
+
+<p>"But, sir, she only wanted to make the house a bit more tidy. It's dusty
+and stuffy. If you gentlemen would be kind enough to wait in the garden
+five minutes, I'd open up the rooms, and raise a window here and there."</p>
+
+<p>Betty, tearful and repentant, had entered the hall in her eagerness to
+serve. Walker weakened; he had a soft spot in his heart for girls.</p>
+
+<p>"No matter now," he said. "We shan't be here long. This gentleman is
+just going to look round and see if the place suits him."</p>
+
+<p>"The best bedroom is all upside down," she persisted. "If you'd give me
+three minutes&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Run away and play, and don't bother us," he answered off-handedly. "As
+I was about to say, Mr. Armathwaite, someone in the old days put stained
+glass in that window on the landing. You'll notice it shows a knight in
+black armor&mdash;Edward, the Black Prince, it's believed to be&mdash;and, when
+the sun sets in the nor' west, it casts a strong shadow on the paneling
+beside the clock. Of course, it can be seen from the porch, and it
+accounts for this silly story about the ghost&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" screamed the girl. "Why talk of such horrid things? There's no
+ghost!"</p>
+
+<p>Her cry was so unexpectedly shrill that Walker yielded to an anger
+almost as loud-voiced.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound you!" he stormed at her; "take yourself off! One more word
+from you, and your mother loses her job."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite looked into the girl's troubled face and saw there a fear, a
+foreboding, which were very real, if not to be accounted for readily.</p>
+
+<p>"Kindly leave us," he said. "If I want Mrs. Jackson, or you, I'll call
+at the cottage."</p>
+
+<p>There was an air of authority about Mr. Armathwaite that disconcerted
+Betty more than Walker's bluster. She went out and closed the front
+door. The agent ran and opened it again. The girl was standing on the
+path, clear of the porch, and gazing wistfully at the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you mind your own business?" he grumbled. "The deuce take it,
+what's come to you to-day? You and your mother seem half crazy."</p>
+
+<p>"We don't like folk to see the place at its worst," she said, rather
+defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're doing your best to turn Mr. Armathwaite against it, <i>I</i> should
+think," was the angry comment. "Now, don't touch this door again, and
+clear out, d'ye hear?"</p>
+
+<p>Betty flushed. She was distressed, but dales' blood boils quickly when
+subjected to the fire of contumely.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't asked such a favor," she said. "And you might keep a civil
+tongue in your head."</p>
+
+<p>Walker sniffed his annoyance. But why bandy words with this aggressive
+young woman? He swung on his heel.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry you should have met with such a queer reception, Mr.
+Armathwaite," he said. "I can't account for it. I really can't. Perhaps
+Mrs. Jackson feels hurt that I didn't let her know you were coming,
+but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind Mrs. Jackson or her daughter," said Armathwaite placidly.
+"I'll soon settle matters with them. Now, you have an inventory, I
+believe? Suppose we start here."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you've decided to take the house, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, two hours ago, in Nuttonby."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish all our clients were like you," laughed Walker. "You know what
+you want and see that you get it.... Well, sir, as it happens, the
+inventory begins with the hall. I'll read, and you might note the items,
+stopping me if there's any doubt."</p>
+
+<p>The agent rattled through his task, but was pulled up several times in
+dining-room and drawing-room, when a picture or two, some Sheffield
+plate, and various bits of china were missing. Black doubt seized the
+sharp Walker when this had happened for the fourth time. In all, there
+were seven disappearances, and, in each instance, the article was old
+and fairly valuable. Country villages, he reflected, were ransacked
+nowadays by collectors of curios. When opportunity served, he and Mrs.
+Jackson would have some earnest words.</p>
+
+<p>But surprise and relief came in the discovery of the seven; they were
+piled, with a number of books, on a table in the library.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose some kind of spring cleaning is going on," he said
+sheepishly. "Now the cat is out of the bag. Why the deuce didn't Betty
+say so, and have done with it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I imagine she was trying to tell us something of the sort," smiled the
+other unconcernedly. "Surely we have not got to check the titles of all
+these books?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. They're lumped together&mdash;about eight hundred volumes."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite surveyed the shelves with the eye of a reader.</p>
+
+<p>"That must be nearly right," he said, after a little pause. "I must not
+get mine mixed with my predecessor's. I've brought nearly two hundred
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>Walker thought of the brown paper parcel, which seemed to have a certain
+solidity, but said nothing. In the first place, if eight hundred books
+occupied so much space, a quarter of that number would fit in no
+ordinary sheet of brown paper. Secondly, Mr. Armathwaite's manner did
+not invite unnecessary questions. The kitchen and scullery were soon
+dealt with. There was coal in a cellar, and a supply of wood, and a
+number of lamps drew attention to some tins of oil.</p>
+
+<p>"How much for this lot?" inquired the would-be tenant.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said Walker, in a sudden fit of generosity. "These stores
+were left by Mrs. Wilkins, and lost sight of during the row. My, what a
+bother she raised!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yet there is no ghost; we have Betty's word for it. Now&mdash;the bedrooms."</p>
+
+<p>The "best" bedroom&mdash;that in the south-east angle&mdash;was certainly not in
+disorder. Indeed, it looked fresher and cleaner than any of the others;
+the bed was spotless; even the window-sill had been dusted recently.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said the agent, "those two silly women have been tidying
+things up a bit for the season. I'm getting the hang of things by
+degrees. They're afraid I might think it should have been done sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably," agreed Armathwaite, who, however, held a somewhat different
+view. The girl was not afraid of Mr. James Walker. Of whom, then, or of
+what? If the inquiry interested him he would find out.</p>
+
+<p>The remaining bedrooms held at least one year's dust.</p>
+
+<p>A box-room, lumber-room, and servant's bedroom occupied the second
+floor. In the ceiling of a small lobby there was a trap-door.</p>
+
+<p>"That leads to a space beneath the roof," said Walker. "By the way,
+there ought to be a ladder. It's gone."</p>
+
+<p>Being, as has been seen, of active habit, he brought a chair from the
+bedroom, stood on it, pushed up the flap, and peered into the
+semi-obscurity of a triangular, rafter-lined attic, lighted only by a
+tiny square of glass cemented into one of the flat stone slabs of the
+roof.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, here it is," he announced. "Shall I pull it out?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks," said Armathwaite. "I don't suppose I shall mount so high
+again during my tenancy."</p>
+
+<p>The younger man closed the trap, and, as it had been unfastened
+previously, shot a bolt into its socket.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that ends it," he said, brushing some grime off his hands. "If
+you care to stroll through the garden you'll find plenty of fruit coming
+on. This should be a good year for apples and plums, I'm told. It's too
+late to raise any potatoes or vegetables, but the village will supply
+plenty of table stuff, and cheap, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see," mused Armathwaite aloud. "Fifteen pounds rent,
+and, say, two guineas for your fee, and another guinea for the
+conveyance&mdash;eighteen pounds three shillings in all. Let us adjourn to
+the library, and I'll pay you, sign the agreement, and initial the
+inventory. Then I need not detain you any longer, Mr. Walker."</p>
+
+<p>The agent looked blank, as well he might. He was flustered, too, by the
+terms offered for his valuable services.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean that you're going to stay here straightaway, sir?" he
+cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I came prepared for immediate occupation. That is why I brought my
+bag, and some groceries."</p>
+
+<p>"Groceries!"</p>
+
+<p>Walker was so astonished that he could only repeat the word.</p>
+
+<p>"That parcel, you know. I'm an old campaigner&mdash;that is, I have much
+experience of camping out, under far less pleasant conditions than in a
+delightful house in a Yorkshire village. I shall be quite happy here."</p>
+
+<p>"But there's a kind of an inn not far off; you'll come and have a snack
+there with me, sir?" was all that Walker could find to say at the
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm much obliged to you, but I may not stir out again to-day. Shall we
+go down?"</p>
+
+<p>They descended the stairs, which creaked loudly under their feet. Walker
+was puzzled to understand a cool customer of the Armathwaite type. He
+had never heard of a tenancy being entered into with such promptitude,
+yet there was no point in the stranger's behavior which he could fix on
+as definitely eccentric, or even unusual. The man evidently knew his own
+mind, and, if he paid up, the philosophy of Walker, senior, fitted the
+case admirably.</p>
+
+<p>Still it was a slightly dazed Son who pocketed fifteen pounds in notes
+and three guineas in coin, and gave receipts for these sums, and
+exchanged copies of an agreement, and handed over the keys.</p>
+
+<p>"Take another cigar," said the new tenant, bidding him good-bye at the
+front door, when bag and parcel had been brought in and dumped on the
+hall table. "Oh, there is one other small matter. I left three boxes at
+Nuttonby Station. Here is the voucher. Can you get some carter or farmer
+to bring them here, to-day or to-morrow? I'll pay him well for his
+trouble. They're rather heavy&mdash;books, mostly."</p>
+
+<p>Conscious of a subdued feeling which he was wholly unable to explain,
+Walker took the cigar and the printed slip, raised his hat&mdash;an action
+which vexed him when he recalled it subsequently&mdash;and strolled down to
+the gate and the waiting dog-cart. Rattling the reins to let the pony
+know that he would stand no nonsense, he turned the corner on one wheel,
+and gave not the slightest heed to Betty Jackson's frantic efforts to
+attract his attention. Without slackening pace at the Fox and Hounds
+Inn, he whisked into the Nuttonby road, but pulled up on the crest of
+the first hill.</p>
+
+<p>Looking back at Elmdale, lying snug and content in the blazing sunshine
+of early afternoon, he gazed at the Grange during a full minute. The
+front door was closed. So far as he could make out, no tall figure was
+sauntering in garden or orchard. Then he felt in his breeches pocket, to
+make sure, by the touch of notes and gold, that he was not dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm jiggered, if this isn't a rum go!" he muttered, and chirruped
+the pony into a trot again.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Mr. Robert Armathwaite had watched his hurried
+departure, in the first instance from the porch and subsequently from
+one of the windows in the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I've made a mistake," he communed, with an amused smile, when
+he noted the momentary stopping of the dog-cart outside the village.
+"I've puzzled that young sprig, and I might have avoided that. Not that
+it matters a great deal. His father will inquire at the bank about my
+financial standing, and the pair of them will put me down as a
+well-to-do lunatic. Maybe they will prove right. Who can tell? At any
+rate, I've not felt so content with my lot since I left India. Now for
+some bread and cheese, and a thorough survey of my domain."</p>
+
+<p>He unpacked the brown paper parcel on the kitchen table, and thereby
+proved himself at least well skilled as a caterer. Bacon, flour, bread,
+tea, coffee, sugar&mdash;all manner of simple domestic stores were there. He
+had, in fact, gone into a grocer's shop in Nuttonby, produced a written
+list, and asked that the articles named therein should be of the best
+quality and got ready at once.</p>
+
+<p>While munching a frugal meal he bethought himself of the water supply.
+Unlocking the back door, he found the well, and drew a bucket of water,
+which was excellent in quality, and by no means suffering from disuse;
+indeed, he learnt later that the Jacksons and other cottagers took their
+supply from that source.</p>
+
+<p>After a stroll round the garden and orchard&mdash;noting the laden gooseberry
+and currant bushes in the one, and several varieties of apples, pears,
+plums, and cherries in the other&mdash;he went back to the house. Going
+upstairs, he took possession of the "best" room, and distributed the
+contents of the bag among various drawers and on a dressing-table. A
+large wardrobe contained some feminine garments, old, but of good
+quality, and he left them undisturbed. Examining the bed, he found the
+sheets scrupulously clean and well-aired. To all seeming, they had been
+put there that very day, and he believed that the Jackson family meant
+to accommodate some friend in the Grange for the night, which reasonable
+surmise explained Betty Jackson's anxiety lest any hint of the project
+should reach the agent's ears.</p>
+
+<p>"It's too bad if I've contrived to upset their plans," he mused.
+"They're welcome to any other room, for all that I care, and I'll tell
+them so if I come across either of them this evening."</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, meaning to be lord of his own realm, he locked the doors,
+both back and front, when he went for a ramble over the moors. He was
+willing to fall in with any hospitable arrangement the caretakers might
+have in view, but they must consult him, and he refused to have either
+of them prowling about the house in his absence.</p>
+
+<p>He followed the moorland road for some miles, meeting no one, and seeing
+no living creature save hundreds of black-faced sheep. Not even a grouse
+scurried across the heather, for June is the nesting season, and the
+parent birds lie close. Noting the watershed, he found the source of the
+beck which brawled through Elmdale, and tracked it back to the village.
+It was alive with trout and grayling, and his fingers itched for a rod.
+He regretted now that he had not obtained the names of some of the
+riparian landowners from Walker, but realized that the village inn would
+soon yield all the information he needed, and probably contain some of
+the farmers in person that evening.</p>
+
+<p>He reached his new abode, however, somewhat later than he had intended,
+approaching it from the east, which afforded not only a new point of
+view, but enabled him to detect Mrs. Jackson and Betty in a series of
+manoeuvres which were distinctly mysterious when taken into account with
+their earlier attitude.</p>
+
+<p>Obviously, when he emerged from the depths of the tree-lined gill, and
+first caught sight of the house, mother and daughter had just quitted
+the front door, presumably after knocking, and failing to obtain an
+answer. Betty ran out into the road, and gazed up towards the moor.
+Apparently satisfied by her scrutiny of that bare upland she hurried to
+the rear of the premises, and reappeared, carrying a gardener's ladder,
+which she placed against the wall. Giving a rapid glance in the
+direction of the village, she mounted the ladder. It was rather short,
+and she was in some danger of falling, but, by clinging to a creeper,
+she managed to reach a sufficient height that she could peer into the
+bedroom in which Armathwaite had spread his belongings.</p>
+
+<p>She descended again swiftly, took away the ladder, and returned to her
+mother. Both women eyed the upper windows anxiously, and, as the outcome
+of some talk, Betty went to the gate a second time, and looked along the
+bold curve of the moorland road. She shook her head. Her mother joined
+her, and the two went to their cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite smiled, and resolved to keep his knowledge of the Jacksons'
+behavior to himself. He did not wish to quarrel with the women, who
+would be useful in many ways. In a day or two, when he had won their
+confidence, they would doubtless explain their queer proceedings; most
+likely, the explanation would prove so simple that it would never occur
+to a suspicious mind.</p>
+
+<p>Having waited to fill his pipe, he entered the village, and walked up
+the narrow path to Mrs. Jackson's abode. He was met at the door by
+Betty. She seemed to be rather alarmed by the visit, yet pleased to see
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Can we do anything for you, sir?" she said. "Mother and I went to the
+house a while ago, but you were out."</p>
+
+<p>In the oblique Yorkshire way she had partly told the reason of the
+visit. Mrs. Jackson, too, came and stood near her daughter, and it was
+curious to note the underlook of alarm, of poignant anxiety, in both
+faces.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to make your acquaintance, and to inquire about milk, butter,
+and eggs," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Walker suggested that you might be
+willing to attend to household matters, and that would take a burden off
+my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll be pleased to do it, and reasonable, too, sir," said Mrs. Jackson
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Come and see me in the morning. Meanwhile, can you arrange
+for a quart of milk, a pound of butter, and a few eggs to be sent in
+immediately?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir," said both together, and the expression of relief in the
+one face was mirrored in the other.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be wanting something cooked now, sir?" went on the older woman,
+with a new cheerfulness of tone, and Armathwaite would have been a far
+less capable student of human nature than he was had he failed to see
+that a much desired entry to the house was now regarded as an assured
+thing. Suddenly he made up his mind to solve the enigma, whatever it
+might be, since the theory of a spare bed being in request did not seem
+to fit the case.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said carelessly, treating the proposal as of slight import, one
+way or the other. "I wish to be alone this evening. But you can come in
+early to-morrow. Isn't there a spare key?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," broke in the girl, for her mother was utterly nonplussed
+again. "It's on the bunch with the others."</p>
+
+<p>He produced the keys from his pocket, and saw that there were two alike.</p>
+
+<p>"One of these?" he inquired, meeting the girl's eyes in a steady glance.
+Then he was sure of his ground. She was so excited that she could hardly
+answer. He gave her the key, ascertained that she would bring the milk
+and the rest in a few minutes, and left the two women staring after him.</p>
+
+<p>Betty was as good as her word. She made no attempt to prolong her stay,
+but deposited her purchases on the hall-table, and promised that she or
+her mother would come about seven in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you need to be called, sir?" she inquired, as an afterthought.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes. I'm a sound sleeper," he assured her gravely.</p>
+
+<p>The statement was true, but it required qualification. A man who had
+slept many a night under conditions that demanded instant wakefulness if
+any sinister sound threatened his very existence, did not rank in the
+class of sound sleepers known to quiet Elmdale.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter he cooked a meal of eggs and bacon, tea and toast, smoked,
+rambled in the garden, read, thought a good deal, and went to bed.</p>
+
+<p>The light in his room was extinguished soon after ten o'clock. About
+half-past eleven, little more than twelve hours from the time he had
+first heard of "the house 'round the corner," he was aroused by a loud
+crash in the hall. He was up in an instant, laughing at the success of a
+booby trap compacted of the Burmese gong, some thread, and a piece of
+wood set as a trigger. His feet were not on the floor before the front
+door banged, and, hurrying to the window, he saw Betty Jackson flying
+down the path for dear life. He could not be mistaken. In that northern
+latitude a midsummer night is never wholly dark. He not only recognized
+the girl, but could note her heaving shoulders as she sobbed
+hysterically in her flight.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry if you're badly scared, my country maid, but you asked for
+it," he said aloud. "Now I think I'll be left to undisturbed slumber
+till seven o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>Therein he erred. He had not quitted the window, being held by the
+solemn beauty of the gray landscape, ere a heavy thud, and then another,
+and yet a third, reached his ears. He might not have localized the
+first, but its successors came unmistakably from the attic. After a few
+seconds, the three knocks were repeated, and now he adjudged them to the
+precise bounds of the trap-door.</p>
+
+<p>Slipping an automatic pistol into the pocket of his pyjama suit&mdash;merely
+as a precaution against the unforeseen, though he was a man devoid of
+fear, he took an electric torch from a drawer, but knew better than to
+bring it into use until its glare would disconcert others&mdash;not himself.
+He thrust his bare feet into slippers, unlocked the bedroom door, and
+passed out on to the landing.</p>
+
+<p>"Now to unveil Isis!" he thought, as he felt for the first step of the
+upward stairway. It needed one of steel nerve and fine courage to creep
+about a strange house in the dark&mdash;a house where ill deeds had been
+done, and in which their memories lurked&mdash;but Robert Armathwaite had
+gone through experiences which reduced the present adventure to the
+proportions of a somewhat startling prank, closely akin to the success
+of the stratagem which had routed Betty Jackson.</p>
+
+<p>And, as he mounted the stairs, keeping close to the wall, and thus
+preventing the old boards from creaking, again came those ominous
+knocks, louder, more insistent; but whether threatening or merely
+clamorous he could not decide&mdash;yet.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>A MIDNIGHT SEANCE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Armathwaite had a foot on the upper landing when a stifled sob reached
+his ears, and a determined, almost angry, stamping or hammering shook
+the trap-door. One element, then, of the mystery attached to this
+reputedly ghost-ridden house was about to be dispelled. When James
+Walker shot the bolt which rendered the door as unyielding as the stout
+rafters which incased it, he had unwittingly imprisoned someone in the
+attic loft; and the someone, tiring of imprisonment, was making loud
+demand for release. Moreover, Betty Jackson was in the secret. She knew
+of the intruder's presence, but had not learnt the particular mode of
+concealment adopted&mdash;hence her renewed efforts to gain admission, her
+use of the ladder, and her somewhat daring visit during the dead hours
+of the night.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Armathwaite scouted the notion of a couple of village women like
+Mrs. Jackson and her daughter being in league with midnight robbers, or
+worse. Even if some thievery was in prospect, they could not possibly
+have arranged that certain unknown miscreants should hide beneath the
+roof, since the arrival of Walker with an unexpected tenant was
+evidently the last thing they had dreamed of.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, smiling at the humor of the incident, he had to simulate a
+sternness he was far from feeling when he cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Stop making that noise! Who are you, and how did you come to get
+yourself locked in in this way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please let me out!" came the muffled reply. "I'll explain everything&mdash;I
+will, indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon, Armathwaite was more surprised than ever. The appeal, though
+tearful and husky, was precisely opposite in character to that which he
+anticipated. He looked for gruff entreaty in the accents of the country
+of broad acres. What he actually heard was a cultured voice, a voice
+with a singularly soft and musical enunciation, and its note was of
+complaint rather than petition.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" he cried, hardly suppressing a laugh. "I'll bring a chair
+and draw the bolt. I suppose you can lower the ladder yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I can&mdash;I drew it up!"</p>
+
+<p>Again, the answer did not fit in with the conditions. But Armathwaite
+secured the same chair which Walker had used, pressed the button of the
+electric torch, and, having forced the bolt out of its socket, raised
+the door a few inches.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch hold!" he said. "I'll show you a light."</p>
+
+<p>The door was lifted, and he glimpsed a beardless face peering from the
+inner void. He sprang to the floor, put the chair on one side, and
+awaited developments. Soon the ladder appeared, and was adjusted. Then
+came two neat but strong brown brogues, with slim-ankled black stockings
+to match, and the turned-up ends of a pair of gray, flannel trousers.
+The owner of these articles of attire sat for an instant on the edge of
+the trap, as though reluctant to descend further, and Armathwaite
+noticed, to his very great bewilderment, that the black stockings were
+of silk.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kindly promise not to grab my legs as I come down?" said the
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not the slightest desire to grab your legs, or your neck, for
+that matter, if you behave yourself," said Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't understand, of course," came the curiously dignified protest;
+"but I am not misbehaving myself, and have no intention of so doing.
+This ridiculous thing would not have happened if that silly young fop
+had not fastened the trap-door. I can't imagine why he did it. It was no
+business of his, at any rate. And may I ask who <i>you</i> are?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll answer all polite inquiries, and, it may be, put a few on my own
+account, when you favor me with a closer view," said Armathwaite, not
+without a tinge of sarcasm in his politeness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, this is too stupid for words!" was the petulant reply, and the
+speaker swung into sight. The ladder was tilted steeply, and the steps
+were narrow. Apparently, the young gentleman in a gray flannel suit who
+materialized in this manner preferred to gaze at his rescuer rather than
+adopt the safer method of descent which involved a momentary turning of
+his back. Possibly, too, he was more nervous than his remarks betokened,
+for he was yet some distance from the floor when the lower-most foot
+slipped, and he fell. The toe of the other foot caught in a rung, and he
+was thrown violently into Armathwaite's arms, who, to save him from
+pitching headlong downstairs, had to clutch him with some force,
+whereupon the torch dropped, and the two were enfolded by a pall of
+darkness that seemed to have an actual quality of tangibleness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" shrieked the youth, now thoroughly frightened, "please don't hurt
+me! I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't really!"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite's senses were steeped in the very essence of wonderment; he
+knew now that he was clasping a woman to his breast, hugging her most
+energetically, too, and the knowledge was at once disconcerting and
+irritating. But he had acquired the faculty long ago of remaining
+impassive in circumstances calling for rigid self-control, so he merely
+said, with curt reassurance:</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll not make such a row, and stand still, I'll find that
+confounded torch and shed a light on the situation."</p>
+
+<p>He stooped, and groped on the floor, being aware that the girl was
+panting with ill-repressed alarm the while. Luckily, his fingers soon
+closed on the nickel cylinder, and the almost overwhelming gloom was
+banished.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you can manage to walk downstairs without stumbling, or
+shall I hold your arm?" he inquired, and the somewhat taunting question,
+no less than his obvious disregard of his companion's terror, supplied a
+needed tonic.</p>
+
+<p>"The ladder was steep and slippery," she said tremulously. "The stairs
+offer no difficulty, so I can dispense with your assistance, thanks."</p>
+
+<p>Certainly this young person's way of expressing herself differed in
+every essential from her distinctly agitated state. She was not yet
+aware of the innate chivalry of the man in refraining from thrusting the
+torch close to her face and staring at her, but already her panic was
+subsiding, and she turned and hurried away so quickly that Armathwaite
+thought she meant to escape.</p>
+
+<p>"Just one moment!" he said, though not making the least effort to detain
+her otherwise. "Are there any more of you up here?"</p>
+
+<p>His sheer unconcern could not fail to lessen her agitation still
+further, and she halted on the next landing.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" she cried. Despite her qualms, she still maintained
+a curious attitude of defiance, as if she, and not the house's lawful
+tenant, had most cause to feel aggrieved.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly what I said. Were you alone in that attic?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was. What a question!"</p>
+
+<p>"A natural one, from my point of view. I was sound asleep, when your
+ally, Betty Jackson, kicked up a din in the hall, and you began pounding
+on the trap-door."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Betty! Is she here? Betty! Betty!"</p>
+
+<p>Leaning over the banisters, she peered into the blackness beneath. There
+was a glimmer of spectral light here, for a late-rising moon was adding
+to the silvery brightness of a perfect night, and some of its radiance
+was piercing the stained glass. Armathwaite noted her action with
+increasing bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Betty fled as though she were pursued by seven devils," he said, when
+no other answer came to her cry. "I guessed at some mischief being
+afoot, so planned a surprise for anyone crossing the hall without my
+knowledge. No matter what her earlier opinions, Betty believes in that
+ghost now."</p>
+
+<p>"Ghost! What ghost? There is no ghost here. Do you think to scare me
+with a bogey, like a naughty child?"</p>
+
+<p>They were descending the broad stairs of the lower flight together, and
+Armathwaite had stolen one glance at the lissom young figure. He was
+minded to smile at a cunningly-hidden safety pin which kept a
+broad-brimmed fisherman's hat of heather mixture cloth in position so
+that the girl's hair was concealed. The coat hung rather loosely on
+slender shoulders, but the disguise was fairly effective in other
+respects, and the masquerader moved with an easy grace that betokened a
+good walker.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not occupied the house many hours, but I have come to the
+conclusion that it harbors certain strange fantasies," he said, taking
+the lead, and stopping to break a thread stretched across the foot of
+the stairs. "We'll find a lamp and matches in the dining-room," he
+added. "Suppose we go there and discuss matters?"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it rather late? Whatever time is it?" was the hesitating comment.</p>
+
+<p>"And aren't you rather hungry?" he replied, ignoring both questions.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm simply ravenous. I haven't eaten a morsel since six o'clock this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I can offer you bread and butter and milk. Shall I boil you some eggs?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you mention food again, I shall drop. Please, what time is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nearly midnight."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I must be going! I must, really. The Jacksons will find me
+something to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"You're going into that room, and, unless I have your promise to remain
+there, you'll accompany me to the kitchen. Which is it to be&mdash;a
+comfortable chair, with a lamp, or a compulsory prowl through kitchen
+and larder?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll sit down, please," came the slow admission. "I'm very tired, and
+rather done up. I walked miles and miles this morning, and the long
+hours up there in the dark were horrid."</p>
+
+<p>Without another word Armathwaite threw open the dining-room door, and
+lighted the lamp which he had left on the table. The girl sank wearily
+into an arm-chair; her action was a tacit acceptance of his terms.
+Somehow, he was convinced that she would not take advantage of his
+absence and slip out through the front door, which Betty Jackson had
+assuredly not waited to lock.</p>
+
+<p>Among the kitchen utensils he had found a small oil-stove in working
+order. In a surprisingly short time, therefore, he was back in the
+dining-room with a laden tray.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like your eggs soft-boiled, medium, or hard?" he inquired,
+treating an extraordinary episode with a nonchalance which betokened
+either a temperament wholly devoid of emotion or a career crowded with
+uncommon experiences.</p>
+
+<p>"Need I eat eggs at all?" said the girl. "I'm sure, Mrs. Jackson&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want to rouse the village?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; anything but that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I must point out that the one cottage in Elmdale whose inmates
+will be deaf and dumb at this moment is Mrs. Jackson's. Both mother and
+daughter are quaking because of the possible consequences of an attempt
+to enter this house at an hour which no person could choose for a
+legitimate purpose. Eat and drink, therefore. We'll deal with the
+Jacksons subsequently. No, don't begin by a long draught of milk. It is
+tempting, but harmful if taken in that way. Try some bread and butter.
+Now, two eggs. Oh, dash it! I've forgotten an egg-spoon, and I don't
+know where such things are kept. I'll go and hunt for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't trouble. Lend me that electric lamp&mdash;how useful it is!&mdash;and I'll
+bring one in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>By this time Armathwaite had seen that his captive was a remarkably
+pretty girl. Male attire supplies the severest test of feminine beauty,
+since form and feature are deprived of adventitious aids; but a small,
+oval face, two pouting lips, a finely-modeled nose, brilliant brown
+eyes, swept by long curved lashes, and a smooth forehead, rising above
+arched and well-marked eyebrows, needed no art of milliner or dressmaker
+to enhance their charms. She was fairly tall, too&mdash;though dwarfed by
+Armathwaite's six feet and an inch of height in his slippered feet&mdash;and
+admirably proportioned, if slender and lithe. Evidently, she thought he
+had not penetrated her disguise, and was momentarily becoming more
+self-possessed. Again, she had some explanation of her presence in the
+house which could not fail of acceptance, and did not scruple,
+therefore, to display a close acquaintance with its arrangements denied
+to one who admittedly had taken up his abode there only that day.</p>
+
+<p>The man listened to her quick, confident steps going to the kitchen,
+heard the rattle of a drawer in an antique dresser which stood there,
+and, with an emphatic gesture, seemed to appeal to the gods ere he bent
+over the stove to see if the water was yet a-boil.</p>
+
+<p>The girl might be hungry, but feminine curiosity proved stronger than
+the urgent claims of an empty stomach. She went into the larder, and
+undoubtedly eyed the new tenant's stores. She implied as much when she
+re-entered the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Boiled eggs require pepper and salt," she explained. "You've got so
+many little paper bags that I didn't dare rummage among them, so I've
+secured a cruet which was left here when my&mdash;when the people who used to
+live here went away. The salt may be a bit damp, but the pepper should
+be all right."</p>
+
+<p>Without more ado she tackled a slice of bread, breaking it into small
+pieces, and buttering each piece separately before munching it.</p>
+
+<p>"Some wise person said in a newspaper the other day that one ought to
+give every mouthful of bread three hundred bites," she went on. "I
+wonder if he ever fasted eighteen hours before practicing his own
+precept. I'm afraid I wouldn't believe him if he said he did."</p>
+
+<p>"People who study their digestion generally die young," said Armathwaite
+drily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't agree with you in that," she retorted. "My dad is great on
+food theories. He knows all about proteins and carbohydrates; he can
+tell you to a fourth decimal the caloric value of an egg; and <i>he's</i> a
+phenomenally healthy person. By the way, how are those eggs coming on?"</p>
+
+<p>"Try this one. I think the water has been boiling three minutes!"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite spoke calmly enough, but a stoutly-built edifice of
+circumstantial evidence had just crumbled in ruins about his ears. He
+was persuaded that, for some reason best known to herself, Miss
+Marguérite Garth had adopted this freakish method of revisiting her old
+home. Such a thesis made all things plausible. It explained her
+singularly self-contained pose, her knowledge of the house's contents,
+her wish to remain hidden from prying eyes, and, last but not least, it
+brought the peculiar conduct of the Jackson family into a commonplace
+category, for the two women would be governed by a clannish feeling
+which is almost as powerful in rural Yorkshire as in Scotland. A girl
+who had lived nearly all her life in the village would be looked on as a
+native. She might appeal confidently for their help and connivance in
+such a matter.</p>
+
+<p>But this girl's father was alive, and Marguérite Garth's father had been
+in a suicide's grave two years. Who, then, was the audacious young lady
+now assuring him that he could boil eggs admirably? He was puzzled anew,
+almost piqued, because he flattered himself on a faculty for guessing
+accurately at the contents of a good many closed pages in a human
+document after a glance at the outer cover and its endorsement. He was
+spurred to fresh endeavor. He wanted to solve this riddle before its
+baffling intricacies were made plain by the all-satisfying statement
+which his companion obviously had it in mind to give.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you remove your hat?" he said, thinking to perplex her by a
+mischievous request.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks," she said blithely. "I'll just demolish this second egg.
+Then I'll tell you why I am here, and awaken Mrs. Jackson, no matter
+what her neighbors may think. But, why wait? I can eat and talk&mdash;put the
+facts in an eggshell, so to speak. My relatives own this house. Mr.
+Garth has long wanted a few books and knick-knacks, and I've come to get
+them. Some are collected already on the library table; the remainder
+I'll gather in the morning, with your permission. But I don't wish my
+visit to be known to others than Mrs. Jackson and Betty, and that is why
+I retreated to the loft when you and Mr. Walker arrived. It was a bother
+that anyone should select this day in particular to visit the property;
+but I imagined you would go away in an hour or so. Even when that vain
+young person, James Walker, locked me in, I believed Betty would come
+and release me after your departure. Besides, I wouldn't for worlds have
+let Walker see me. I&mdash;er&mdash;dislike him too much."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite allowed to pass without comment her real motive for refusing
+to meet sharp-eyed James Walker; but again the problem of her identity
+called insistently for solution. If she was not Marguérite Garth, who on
+earth was she?</p>
+
+<p>"Let me understand," he began. "The owner, and former occupant, of this
+house, was Mr. Stephen Garth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is," she corrected. "It remains his property, though he is living
+elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite so far forgot himself as to whistle softly between his
+teeth. And, indeed, such momentary impoliteness might be excused by his
+bewilderment. If Stephen Garth, who had owned and occupied the Grange,
+was still living, who was the man whose ghost had excited Elmdale, and
+driven back to prosaic Sheffield a certain Mrs. Wilkins, of nervous
+disposition and excitable habit?</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he said judicially. "Messrs. Walker &amp; Son, of Nuttonby, are his
+agents and Messrs. Holloway &amp; Dobb, also of Nuttonby, his solicitors?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," said the girl, deep in the second egg.</p>
+
+<p>"But I understood that Mr. Stephen Garth had only one child, a
+daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he allowed to have a nephew, or an assorted lot of cousins?"</p>
+
+<p>"Such contingencies are permissible, but they don't meet the present
+case."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, my dear young lady, anyone with half an eye in their head
+could see that you are a girl masquerading in a man's clothes. Now, who
+are you? I am entitled to ask. I have certain legal rights as the tenant
+of this house during the forthcoming three months, and as you have
+broken the law in more ways than you imagine, perhaps, I want to be
+enlightened before I condone your various offenses."</p>
+
+<p>The girl was holding a glass of milk to her lips, and drank slowly until
+the glass was emptied; but her eyes met Armathwaite's over the rim, and
+they were dilated with apprehension, for a heedless prank was spreading
+into realms she had never dreamed of.</p>
+
+<p>"Does it really matter who I am?" she managed to say quietly, though
+there was a pitiful flutter in her voice, and the hand which replaced
+the tumbler on the table shook perceptibly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it matters a great deal," he said. With a generosity that was now
+beginning to dawn on her, he averted his gaze, and scrutinized a colored
+print on the wall.</p>
+
+<p>"But why?" she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I am convinced that you are Mr. Stephen Garth's daughter."</p>
+
+<p>She drew a deep breath, and he was aware instantly that she was hovering
+on the verge of candid confession. She moved uneasily, propped her
+elbows on the table, and concealed some part of her features by placing
+her clenched fists against her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what if I am?" she said at last, with a touch of the earlier
+defiance in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you? Please answer outright."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And your father is alive?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Do they know you are here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. For some reason, they have taken a dislike to Elmdale, and hardly
+ever mention it, or the Grange, for that matter. Yet my poor old dad is
+such a creature of habit that he is always missing something&mdash;a book, a
+favorite picture, a bit of china, and I schemed to come here, pack a few
+of the articles he most values, and have them sent to our cottage in
+Cornwall. Once they're there, they couldn't very well be sent back,
+could they? But as my people have forbidden me ever to speak of or come
+near Elmdale, I didn't quite know how to manage it, until I hit on the
+notion of impersonating Percy Whittaker, the brother of a friend with
+whom I have been staying in Cheshire. Percy would do anything for me,
+but there was no sense in sending him, was there? He would be sure to
+bungle things awfully, so I borrowed his togs, and traveled all night to
+a station on the other side of the moor&mdash;and nobody&mdash;thought&mdash;I was&mdash;a
+girl&mdash;except you&mdash;and Betty, of course. She&mdash;knew me&mdash;at once."</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake, don't cry. I believe you&mdash;every word. But did you
+travel from Cheshire in that rig-out?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, oh, no! I wore a mackintosh, and a lady's hat. They're hanging in
+the hall. I took them off while crossing the moor."</p>
+
+<p>"A mackintosh!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Don't be horrid! I turned up my trousers, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not being horrid. I want to help you. You walked&mdash;how many miles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fourteen."</p>
+
+<p>"And breakfasted at York?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You see, Betty would have brought me some lunch. Then <i>you</i> came."</p>
+
+<p>"The bedroom was prepared for your use, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It's my room, really. Dad likes to sleep with his head to the
+west, and that is where the door is in that room."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor girl! I would have given a good deal that this thing should not
+have happened. But we must make the best of a bad job. Now, I hope
+you'll accept my advice. Let me go upstairs and remove the clothes I
+shall need in the morning. Then you retire there, lock the door, and
+sleep well till Betty comes."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can't! You are very kind, but I <i>must</i> go to Mrs. Jackson now."</p>
+
+<p>She had blushed and paled in alternate seconds. Half rising, she sank
+back into the chair again; though the table was between them, the
+wearing of a boy's clothes was not quite so easy a matter as it had
+seemed earlier. The one thing she did not guess was that this
+serious-faced man was far more troubled by thoughts of a reputed ghost
+than by an escapade which now loomed large in her mind.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm half inclined to make you obey me," he said angrily, gazing at her
+now with fixed and troubled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"But you've been so good and kind," she almost sobbed. "Why should you
+be vexed with me now? I've told you the truth, I have, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"That is precisely the reason why I am sure you ought not to risk
+arousing the village to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"But I won't. I'll tap at the window. Betty knows I'm here, somewhere,
+and she'll let me in at once."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was at his wits end to decide on the sanest course. A man
+less versed than he in the complexities of life would have counseled her
+retreat to the cottage as the only practicable means of escape from a
+position bristling with difficulties; but some subtle and intuitive
+sense warned him that Marguérite Garth should, if possible, leave
+Elmdale without the knowledge which credited that house with a veritable
+ghost.</p>
+
+<p>"It's long after midnight," he persisted. "I'll have a snooze in a
+chair, and meet Betty Jackson before you show up. You can trust me
+absolutely to explain things to her."</p>
+
+<p>"You forget that she is worrying dreadfully about me. Please let me go!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said, driven to the half measures he had learnt to
+detest. "Promise me this&mdash;that you'll go straight to bed, and come here
+for breakfast without any conversation with the Jacksons."</p>
+
+<p>The girl showed her relief, not unmixed with surprise at a
+strangely-worded stipulation.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do that," she said, after a little pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Mind you&mdash;no talk. Just 'Good-night, I'm dead tired,' and that sort of
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she agreed again, wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"And the same in the morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do my best."</p>
+
+<p>"Off with you, then! I'll come to the door, and stand there, in case
+you're challenged by anybody."</p>
+
+<p>"There's little fear of that in Elmdale at this hour," she said, with a
+new cheerfulness. He turned, ostensibly to pick up the electric torch.
+She was out in the hall instantly; when he rejoined her she was wearing
+the mackintosh.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night!" she said. "Next to dad, you're the nicest man I've ever
+met, and I don't even know your name."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll introduce myself at breakfast," he growled, extinguishing the
+torch as he opened the door. He watched her swift run down the curving
+path to the gate, and heard her footsteps as she hurried into the
+village street. The night was so still that he knew when she turned into
+the front garden of the cottage, and he caught the tapping on a window,
+which, beginning timidly, soon grew more emphatic, perhaps more
+desperate.</p>
+
+<p>Some minutes passed. He could see the back of the cottage, and no gleam
+of light shone in any of its tiny windows. Then followed some decided
+thumping on a door, but the tenement might have been an empty barn for
+all the response that was forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, he was aware of slow feet climbing dejectedly up the hill, and
+the garden gate creaked.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't make anybody hear," wailed a tearful voice.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was even more surprised than the girl at this dramatic
+verification of his prophecy, but he availed himself of it as
+unscrupulously as any Delphic oracle.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you so," he said. "Now, come in and go to bed!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOWING HOW EXPLANATIONS DO NOT ALWAYS EXPLAIN</h3>
+
+
+<p>Though weary and distrait, Marguérite Garth was of too frank a
+disposition to allow such an extraordinary incident to pass without
+comment. She halted in the porch by Armathwaite's side, and gazed
+blankly at the silent cottage.</p>
+
+<p>"You spoke of a ghost," she murmured brokenly. "I'm beginning to think
+myself that I am bewitched. What can have happened? Why won't Betty or
+her mother let me in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have much pleasure in clearing up that trivial mystery about eight
+o'clock in the morning," he said with due gravity, fearing lest any
+attempt to relieve the situation by a joke might have the disastrous
+effect often achieved by a would-be humorist when a perplexed woman on
+the verge of tears is the subject of his wit. "Now, if you'll wait in
+the dining-room till I collect my garments, you'll be in bed and asleep
+within five minutes."</p>
+
+<p>He gave her no further opportunity for argument or protestation. Closing
+and locking the door, he left the key in the lock, whereas, by virtue of
+the arrangement with Betty Jackson, it had reposed previously on the
+hall-table. In a few seconds he bustled in with an armful of clothes and
+a pair of boots. Handing over the torch, he said cheerfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, leave everything to me, and you'll be astonished to find how all
+your woes will vanish by daylight. Good-night, and sleep well!"</p>
+
+<p>Then the girl did a strange thing. She held the torch close to his face,
+and looked at him unflinchingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very fortunate in having met a man like you," she said, and,
+without another word, turned and mounted the stairs. He waited until the
+bedroom door closed, and listened for the click of a lock, but listened
+in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"It would appear that I'm still able to win the confidence of children
+and dogs," he muttered, smiling grimly. Then he made a pillow of his
+clothes on a couch beneath the window, and, such was the force of habit,
+was asleep quite soon. A glint of sunlight reflected from the glass in a
+picture woke him at four o'clock. After glancing at his watch, he slept
+again, and was aroused the next time by the crunch of feet on the
+graveled path outside. He was at the door while Betty Jackson was yet
+trying to insert the key which she had withdrawn and pocketed overnight.</p>
+
+<p>He admitted her, and said good-humoredly:</p>
+
+<p>"I came downstairs when you ran away from a goblin gong, leaving the
+door unlocked. I don't suppose we are in danger of burglary in Elmdale,
+but it is customary to take reasonable precautions."</p>
+
+<p>Betty, who was carrying a jug of milk, flushed till her cheeks resembled
+a ripe russet apple. Denial was useless, but she tried to wriggle.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't mean any harm, sir," she said. "I only wanted to have a look
+around. The house is so upset."</p>
+
+<p>"Put that milk on the dining-room table," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She obeyed, glad that a dreaded ordeal seemed to have ended ere it had
+well begun. Armathwaite followed, and closed the dining-room door. What
+he really feared was that she might drop the jug, and that the resultant
+crash would awaken his guest before Betty and he had engaged in a
+heart-to-heart talk.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," he said, raising the blind, and flooding the room with clear
+morning light, "I take you for a sensible girl, Betty."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I am, sir," she answered shyly.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you quite recovered from your fright?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>She reddened again, thinking she knew what was coming. She could have
+dealt with Walker, but glib pertness would not avail when this tall
+stranger's eyes were piercing her very soul. Nevertheless, his tone was
+gentle and reassuring&mdash;at first.</p>
+
+<p>"I was ignorant of the real facts, you see, so I had to defend myself,"
+he said. "I know the truth now. Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep. She
+heard the commotion caused by the gong, and could not endure the strain
+and loneliness of that dark garret any longer&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Was Miss Meg there&mdash;in the loft?" cried Betty, blurting out the first
+vague thought that occurred to her bemused brain, because those words,
+"Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep," swamped her understanding with a
+veritable torrent of significance.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She hid there when Mr. Walker and I entered the house, and, by the
+merest chance, she was fastened in. She remained there twelve hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, poor thing! She'd be nearly clemmed to death."</p>
+
+<p>In Yorkshire, "clemmed" means "starved," and "starved" means "perished
+with cold." Armathwaite could follow many of the vernacular phrases, and
+this one did not bother him.</p>
+
+<p>"She was hungry, without doubt," he said, "but I did not send her
+supperless to bed. Now, I have various questions to put before you go to
+her room, and I want straightforward, honest answers. If I am told the
+truth, I shall know how to act for the best in Miss Garth's interests;
+and that is what <i>you</i> wish, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir! I'm sure none of us had any notion of doing wrong."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak so loudly. I want no explanations of your behavior
+yesterday. It would have been wise had you trusted in me at once, but
+that was hardly to be expected, seeing that I was a man fallen from the
+moon.... Why didn't you let Miss Garth enter when she knocked at your
+window and the door last night?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl's eyes opened wide in sheer distress.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, sir!" she almost whispered; "what time did she come?"</p>
+
+<p>"About midnight."</p>
+
+<p>"There now! I half fancied that such a thing might happen. When I ran
+home, sir, I was fair scairt, because there <i>has</i> been talk of a ghost,
+and I wasn't too keen about coming in here in the dark. But mother was
+worried, and wouldn't go to bed. She would have it that Miss Meg had got
+clear of the house, and was hiding in a shed at the top of the lane. So,
+after a lot of talk, mother and I went there together. There was a light
+in the dining-room as we passed, but it had gone out when we came back."</p>
+
+<p>"Solvitur ambulando," muttered the man, smiling at the simple solution
+of an occurrence which had puzzled him greatly at the time.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that, sir?" demanded Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry. I was thinking aloud&mdash;a bad habit. Those two Latin words mean
+that your walk to the shed disposes of a difficulty. Now for the next
+item, Betty. Miss Meg, as you call her, is the young lady who lived here
+a good many years?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was born here, sir. She and I are nearly of an age&mdash;twenty-two,
+each of us."</p>
+
+<p>"And her father was Mr. Stephen Garth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"But isn't he dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir! Dead and buried two years this very month."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. Mother was the first who saw his dead body. She was nearly
+frightened into a fit."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the exact facts."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, Mrs. Garth and Miss Meg went away, all of a sudden. There
+was no quarrel that we know of, and Mr. Garth himself helped a man to
+carry out their boxes. They kissed on parting at the gate. I myself
+heard him saying that he would join them as soon as he had finished some
+book he was busy with. He was a great man for writing and studying, and
+he'd walk ten miles to get some granny's tale about dales ways, and the
+things people used to do in the old times. But no sooner had they left
+him than he changed. We all noticed it. He paid off the gardener, and
+dismissed two maids, and lived here alone. That didn't last long. I used
+to bring eggs and milk and things, and he'd take them in at the door.
+He'd talk pleasantly enough, but he looked awful worried. Then, one
+morning, I couldn't make anybody hear, and I thought he had gone out
+early. About seven o'clock that evening mother went and knocked, but
+there was no answer. Next morning it was the same; but when mother and I
+tried again in the evening, we noticed that the curtain, which can be
+drawn across the glass top of the door, had been pulled aside. At the
+inquest they wanted to know if it had been in the same position when we
+were there before, but we couldn't be certain, though we thought it must
+have been drawn. Anyhow, mother looked in, and ran away screaming, and I
+ran after her, not knowing why. In a minute or two she was able to
+speak, and said she had seen Mr. Garth hanging near the clock. Some men
+went, and they saw him clearly, and one of them, Mr. Benson, rode to
+Bellerby for the policeman. He came in about an hour, and broke open the
+door, and cut poor Mr. Garth down. He had been dead a long time, the
+doctor said, and the worst thing was that nobody could find Mrs. Garth
+and Miss Meg. Not that any blame could be laid to them, because Mr.
+Garth himself said so in a letter addressed 'To the Coroner,' which was
+laid at the foot of the clock. We have a weekly paper in the cottage,
+sir, and you can see the whole account there."</p>
+
+<p>"Get that paper, and give it to me privately sometime to-day," said
+Armathwaite. "Meanwhile, your story is ample for my present purpose.
+Were you surprised at seeing Miss Garth yesterday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, you could have knocked me down with a feather. And she in a man's
+clothes, and all. She came over the moor about ten o'clock&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind the details now. Did she speak of her father?"</p>
+
+<p>"In a sort of a way, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she give you the impression that he was still living?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now that you mention it, sir, she did, but I couldn't quite understand
+what she said, and thought, for sure, I was mistaken. It wasn't the kind
+of thing one might ask questions about&mdash;was it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed. Knowing he had committed suicide, you didn't like to hurt
+her feelings?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's it, sir, exactly."</p>
+
+<p>"You hadn't much talk, I take it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. She was all of a shake with excitement, and wanted to be let
+into the house before anyone else in the village could see her. I was to
+leave her alone till one o'clock, she said. Then I was to bring her
+something to eat, and we'd have a long chat. And that's the last I've
+seen of her, sir."</p>
+
+<p>It has been noted that Armathwaite was no lover of the middle way in
+dealing with the hazards of existence. In fact, strength of will and
+inflexibility of purpose had already driven him from place and power to
+the haven of retirement, which he imagined he would find in Elmdale. He
+had made up his mind overnight as to the handling of the problem set by
+Marguérite Garth's presence in her father's house, and he saw no reason
+now why he should depart from the decision reached then.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been very candid, Betty Jackson," he said, looking steadily into
+the girl's wondering eyes, "and I mean to be equally outspoken with you.
+For some cause, which I cannot fathom, and may never inquire into, Miss
+Garth is not only unaware of any recent death in her family, but is
+convinced that her father is alive and well. There is a flaw in the
+argument somewhere, but it is hardly my business, nor yours, to discover
+the weak spot. Now, I propose that we let the young lady leave Elmdale
+as happy in her belief, or her ignorance, as she entered it. In plain
+English, I suggest that neither you, nor I, nor your mother, say one
+syllable about the suicide of Mr. Stephen Garth. If his daughter
+believes he is living, we should be hard put to it to convince her that
+he is dead."</p>
+
+<p>"He <i>is</i> dead, sir. I saw him in his coffin," said Betty earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not disputing your statement. My sole consideration, at this
+moment, is the happiness of the girl now lying asleep upstairs. Suppose,
+within the next hour or two, she says something about the surprise her
+father will receive when he sees some of the books and other articles
+she means to send to her present home, are you going to tell her that
+she is utterly mistaken&mdash;that Mr. Garth has been dead and buried&mdash;that
+she is talking like a lunatic?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, sir! I wouldn't dream of speaking that way to Miss Meg."</p>
+
+<p>"But don't you see, it has to be either one thing or the other. Either
+you accept her view that her father is alive, or you are constantly
+acting in a way that must arouse her suspicions. And, if once she begins
+to question you, what will happen then? You'll be in a ten times more
+difficult position than if you convince yourself, for the time being,
+that you were dreaming when you saw some man in a coffin."</p>
+
+<p>"But I wasn't," persisted Betty. "Why, sir, the whole village knows&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not doubting your word in the least. The point at issue is this&mdash;do
+you mean to perplex and worry Miss Meg by informing her that her father
+hanged himself in the hall of this very house two years ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. That I don't."</p>
+
+<p>"You promise that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you've come to my way of thinking. Miss Garth will leave here
+to-day, or to-morrow, at the latest. Till then, you must keep guard over
+your tongue. Go now, and tell your mother what I have told you. Make
+her understand the facts most clearly. If she agrees to help you and me
+in this matter, she is to come here and take up a housekeeper's duties.
+I'll pay her and you well for your services, but my instructions must be
+carried out to the letter. If she refuses, or feels unable, to obey my
+wishes in this matter, she is not to cross the threshold. Do you
+understand that fully?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite could be tersely emphatic in speech and manner when he
+chose. He had taken Betty Jackson into his confidence, but he had also
+expressed his intentions in a way that left her in no doubt as to the
+result if any lack of discretion on her part, or her mother's, led to a
+crisis. He had gauged the situation to a nicety. Mrs. Jackson and her
+daughter were well disposed towards Marguérite Garth, but there was no
+harm in stilling their tongues through the forceful medium of
+self-interest.</p>
+
+<p>When the two came back together within a few minutes he knew that he had
+swept immediate obstacles from the path. Mrs. Jackson was a shrewd
+Yorkshire woman, and needed no blare of trumpets to inform her on which
+side her bread was buttered.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, sir," she cried cheerfully. "Betty has told me what you
+said, and I think you're quite right. What time do you want breakfast,
+and what'll you have cooked?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite nodded his satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"We three will get along famously," he laughed. "Now, Betty, put some
+water in one of the bedrooms, and, when you call Miss Garth, get my
+dressing-case, which is on the table, and bring it to me. She will
+answer your mother's questions about breakfast. Any hour that suits her
+will suit me. And let us all look as pleasant as though there wasn't
+such a thing as a ghost within a thousand miles of Elmdale."</p>
+
+<p>The chance phrase reminded him of the elder Walker's words: "Elmdale is
+eight miles from Nuttonby, and thousands from every other town." Yet,
+remote as was this moor-edge hamlet, a sordid tragedy had been enacted
+there. Someone had died in that house under circumstances which called
+imperatively for a most searching inquiry. A daylight phantom had
+replaced the grim specter which credulous villagers were wont to see on
+a summer's eve. Was it his business to exorcise the evil spirit? He did
+not know. He closed his eyes resolutely to that side of the difficulty.
+Marguérite Garth must be sent on her way first; then he would make a
+guarded investigation into the history of the man whom Mrs. Jackson had
+seen "hanging near the clock."</p>
+
+<p>When summoned to the dining-room he received a shock. Man-like, he had
+pictured his unbidden guest as he had seen her the previous night. Now
+he was greeted by a smiling and prepossessed young lady, who had
+extracted a muslin gown from the stock in the wardrobe, and whose
+piquant face was crowned by a wealth of brown hair. The presence of
+woman's chief adornment naturally enhanced the girl's remarkable beauty.
+In defiance, too, of certain modern laws of hygiene&mdash;or perhaps because
+she couldn't help it, being built that way&mdash;she had a very slim waist.
+Last night she would have passed in a crowd for a boy of slender
+physique; this morning she was adorably feminine. During fifteen years
+of strenuous work in the East, Armathwaite had never given a thought to
+the opposite sex. He had seen little of his country-women, for the
+Indian frontier is not a haven for married officers, and he personally
+would have regarded a wife as a positive hindrance to his work; so it
+was a singular fact that his first reflection now should be that a
+certain Percy Whittaker, whom, in all probability, he would never set
+eyes on, was a person to be envied. He almost scowled at the absurdity
+of the notion, and the girl, extending her hand, caught the fleeting
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you pleased to see me?" she cried. "I made sure you were aching
+for my appearance. Betty tells me you were up and about before she
+arrived, and I have been an unconscionable time dressing; you must be
+pining for breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall not rob me of a chance of saying that I am glad to see you by
+that unnecessary tag about breakfast," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But isn't it an awful bore to find you have a girl lodger? Poor man!
+You hire a house in the country for a fishing holiday, and fate condemns
+you to play host!"</p>
+
+<p>"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have
+entertained angels unawares," he quoted.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that from Proverbs?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. It occurs in a certain epistle to the Hebrews."</p>
+
+<p>She knitted her brows.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so," she said. "I'm rather good at Proverbs, and I don't
+remember that one. If you meant to give me a nasty knock you might have
+reminded me that it is better to dwell in a corner of the house-top than
+with a brawling woman in a wide house.... Do you like coffee, or tea?"</p>
+
+<p>"Both."</p>
+
+<p>"Mixed? Mrs. Jackson didn't know your tastes, so I told her to be
+extravagant."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try the coffee, please."</p>
+
+<p>It was an odd sensation to find himself seated at table with such a
+vivacious companion. Marguérite Garth had evidently banished her
+overnight experiences into the limbo of yesterday's seven thousand
+years. She could not have smiled more gayly, or been more at ease with a
+friend of long standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Betty and I have been exchanging impressions about you," she rattled
+on. "We agree that you're not half so severe as you look. But I'm not
+such a marvelous guesser as you are, so, will you tell me what I'm to
+call you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bob."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Bob?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mean that my name rhymes with Lobb, or Dobb or Hobb. Bob is a
+diminutive of Robert."</p>
+
+<p>"But Robert what?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, just Bob."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be silly. You must have another name."</p>
+
+<p>"The name on Mr. Walker's register is such a mouthful&mdash;Armathwaite, if
+you <i>will</i> have it."</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer way to put it! 'On Mr. Walker's register.' Isn't it your
+real name?"</p>
+
+<p>"There! I was sure you would say that. Why not be content with blunt and
+honest-sounding Bob?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall we establish a sort of cousinship? You're Bob and I'm Meg."</p>
+
+<p>"That would be a most excellent beginning, Meg."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed delightedly.</p>
+
+<p>"We're having quite an adventure!" she cried. "It sounds like a chapter
+out of an exciting novel. I hope you didn't think I was rude about your
+other name&mdash;the long one&mdash;Bob! You see, I used to be Meg Garth, but now
+I'm Meg Ogilvey. I'm hardly accustomed to the Ogilvey yet, but I rather
+like it. Don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite's face darkened, and he swallowed a piece of bacon without
+giving it even one of the twenty-nine bites recommended by dietists as a
+minimum.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that makes you look at me black as thunder," she vowed. "It's a
+quite simple matter. My people came into some money when we left
+Elmdale, and the Ogilvey was part of the legacy. It reaches us from the
+maternal side of the family, and the change was easy enough for dad,
+because he always wrote under the pen-name of Stephen Ogilvey."</p>
+
+<p>"Stephen Ogilvey&mdash;the man who is an authority on folk-lore?"</p>
+
+<p>The genuine surprise in his voice evidently pleased his hearer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. How thrilling that you should recognize him! That is real fame,
+isn't it?&mdash;to be regarded as top-dog in your particular line. But you
+seemed to be angry when I told you about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were married," he said, secretly quaking at his own
+temerity.</p>
+
+<p>Again she knitted her brows in a rather fascinating effort to appear
+sagacious.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite see&mdash;&mdash;" she began. Then she stopped suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"You think that if I were married I wouldn't be quite such a tom-boy&mdash;is
+that it?" she went on.</p>
+
+<p>"No. You've failed so badly in your interpretation of my thought that I
+dare hardly tell you its true meaning."</p>
+
+<p>"Please do. I hate to misunderstand people."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll try and explain. You have not forgotten, I hope, that I have
+already described you as an angel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your quotation wasn't a bit more applicable than mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Be that as it may, I cannot imagine an angel married. Can you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious! Am I to remain single all my life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who am I that I should choose between an angel and Meg Ogilvey?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't limit your choice so narrowly," she said, eluding his point
+with ease. "Besides, I've been expecting every minute to hear that
+there is a Mrs. Armathwaite."</p>
+
+<p>"There isn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry. I wish there was, and that she was here now. Then, if she
+was nice, and you wouldn't have married her if she wasn't, she would ask
+me to stay a few days. And I would say 'Yes, please.' As it is, I must
+hurry over my packing, and take myself back to Cheshire."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said he, compelling the words. "There is no doubt about that. You
+cannot remain here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you needn't hammer in the fact that you'll be glad to be rid of
+me. Have some more coffee?"</p>
+
+<p>A heavy step sounded on the path without. The girl, who was seated with
+her back to the window, turned and looked out.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's Tom Bland, the Nuttonby carrier," she cried excitedly, smiling
+and nodding at some person visible only to herself. "Dear old Tom! Won't
+he be surprised at seeing me!"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite's wandering wits were suddenly and sharply recalled to the
+extraordinary situation confronting him.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean that some local man has recognized you?" he growled, and
+the note of real annoyance in his voice brought a wondering glance from
+the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"We gazed straight at one another, at any rate," she said, with a
+perceptible stiffening of manner. "Considering that Tom knows me as well
+as I know him, it would be stupid to pretend that neither of us knows
+the other. It would be useless where Tom is concerned, at any rate. He
+grinned all over his face, so I may as well go to the door and have a
+word with him."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Armathwaite, springing to his
+feet, and upsetting a plate in his hurry. "If Tom Bland says he has seen
+you here, I'll tell him he's several varieties of a liar. At this moment
+Marguérite Garth simply doesn't exist. She's a myth. The lady in this
+room is Meg Ogilvey, whom Tom Bland has never heard of before. Now,
+understand, that I forbid you to move or show your face again at the
+window."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my!" pouted the girl, making believe to be very much afraid of him.
+That was the hardest part of the task confronting the Grange's latest
+tenant. He could awe and keep in check ten thousand turbulent and
+fanatical Pathans for many a year, but a clear-eyed English girl of
+twenty-two refused to be either awe-stricken or kept in restraint for as
+many minutes. Yet he must bend her to his will, for her own sake. He
+must force her away from Elmdale, from the hourly possibility of some
+ghastly revelation which would darken and embitter her life. The
+undertaking would go against the grain, but he dared not shirk it, and,
+once his mind was made up, he was not one whose resolution faltered.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>GATHERING CLOUDS</h3>
+
+
+<p>The Nuttonby carrier took the new tenant of the Grange into his circle
+of acquaintances with the ready camaraderie of his class.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine morning, sir," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"An excellent morning," said Armathwaite. "Have you brought my boxes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. They be rare an' heavy, an' all."</p>
+
+<p>"You and I can manage them between us, I have no doubt," and Armathwaite
+led the way to the gate. As they passed the dining-room, Bland stared
+candidly through the window, but the girl was not visible.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't reckon on seein' Miss Meg to-day, sir," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Meg? Who's Miss Meg?" smiled the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, poor Mr. Garth's lass, to be sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! My cousin thought you were under the impression that you recognized
+her. But you are mistaken. The lady you saw is Miss Marguérite Ogilvey."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she now? Well, that takes it! I could ha' sworn&mdash;Miss who, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite repeated the name, and Tom Bland scratched his head. He was
+elderly, and weather-tanned as the Nuttonby porter, but his occupation
+had quickened his wits; there are times when one should not reiterate an
+opinion.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll not have tried the beck yet, sir?" he said, twisting the
+conversation rather obviously. "I had a turn in the Swale meself last
+evenin'&mdash;this water runs into it, ye ken, an' the troot were risin'
+fine."</p>
+
+<p>"What flies did you use?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two March browns an' a black gnat. There's nowt like a March brown, to
+my thinkin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me who owns the land in that direction?" and Armathwaite
+pointed to the wooded gill which cut into the moorland to the eastward.</p>
+
+<p>Bland gave some names, which Armathwaite entered in a notebook. He was
+wondering whether or not he should ask the man not to mention that he
+had seen a second occupant of the house, but decided that gossip would
+be stilled more quickly if the topic were left severely alone. He knew
+that Walker had told the carrier certain facts about himself. Possibly
+there would be some talk when next the two met, but, by that time, the
+Grange would have lost its highly interesting visitor, and Armathwaite
+smiled at the notion of the dapper young auctioneer trying to extract
+information from him.</p>
+
+<p>The boxes, too, permitted of no waste of breath. When the third was
+dumped in the hall Bland was gasping, and Armathwaite's rather sallow
+face wore a heightened color.</p>
+
+<p>"That was a stiff haul for your horse. How much?" said the owner of
+these solid trunks.</p>
+
+<p>"It's eight miles&mdash;&mdash;" began Bland. Despite a fixed tariff he could not
+forego an opportunity for bargaining, and Yorkshire will never give a
+direct answer if it can be avoided.</p>
+
+<p>"Sixteen, really," broke in Armathwaite. "Will sixteen shillings meet
+the case?"</p>
+
+<p>But Bland drew the line at downright extortion.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay!" he said. "I had a few calls on the way, an' there's some
+empties to go back from the Fox and Hounds. Take off the six, sir, an'
+I'll be very content."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite paid him and added a florin "for a drink." As it happened,
+Betty Jackson crossed the hall, and nodded a greeting. This was
+fortunate. The girl's presence lent a needed touch of domesticity.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye'll hae gotten Betty an' her mother to do for you?" commented the
+carrier.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I was lucky to find them available."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, they're all right. They'll mak' ye comfortable. They will, an' all.
+I've known Mrs. Jackson these fot-ty year. Good mornin', sir. If you
+want owt frae Nuttonby just tell the postman. I come this way Tuesdays,
+Thursdays an' Saturdays."</p>
+
+<p>With the departure of the carrier Armathwaite fancied that the
+irksomeness of life would lessen. The "cousin" of recent adoption had
+evidently withdrawn to the farther part of the dining-room, because
+Bland, despite many attempts, had not set eyes on her again. She, of
+course, was aware when he mounted into the cart and rumbled out of sight
+around the corner of the cottage. She came out. Armathwaite was
+unstrapping the boxes. One was already open, revealing books in layers.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I'm such a nuisance," she said quietly. "Of course, it was
+thoughtless of me to nod to Tom Bland, but he took me by surprise.
+Naturally, you don't wish people to know I am in Elmdale. Will you
+confer one last favor? Take your rods and pannier, and go for a couple
+of hours' fishing. I shall scoot before you return. I'll select the few
+things I require, and Betty will pack them, and hand them over to Bland
+on Saturday."</p>
+
+<p>He was on his knees and looked up at her.</p>
+
+<p>"By 'scooting' do you mean that you are going to walk across that moor
+again?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"If that is the only possible way of escape, I'll go with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Walk twenty-eight miles? Ridiculous!"</p>
+
+<p>"You're not going alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I am." This with a little stamp of one of the brown brogues, mighty
+fetching.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not force my company on you, if that is what you fear."</p>
+
+<p>"But how absurd! Do you intend following me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;until you are within easy range of the railway."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Armathwaite, I'm perfectly well able to take care of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of it, Meg. But a cousin should be cousinly. Our relationship
+will not be close. Say, a distance of two hundred yards."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled into her eyes; his stern face softened wonderfully when he
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't think of permitting it," she pouted, eyeing him with a new
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>He sat back on his heels, and affected a resigned attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's argue the point for two hours," he said. "I can't go fishing,
+because I shall be trespassing until I have acquired some rights.
+Moreover, nothing short of violence will stop me from escorting you
+over the moor. In this weather, moors contain tramps."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I met two yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Did they speak to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"One did. I didn't mind him. The second one turned and looked. I was
+ready to run, but he only stared."</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask what costume you intend wearing for to-day's outing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't quite decided. It may be a blue Shantung or a white piqué,
+but it won't be gray flannel, if that's what you're hinting at."</p>
+
+<p>He rose, and felt in his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we can get through those two hours comfortably. May I smoke?"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, please do. Then you won't be so grumpy. Walk twenty-eight miles on
+my account! The idea!"</p>
+
+<p>"I've walked forty before to-day, and stood a very reasonable chance of
+being potted every inch of the way. You won't fire at me, at any rate,
+so twenty-eight is a mere stroll. In fact, if you are gracious, it can
+be a pleasant one, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Potted! Were you in the army?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Soldiers like that sort of thing! I didn't so I gave it up. Sure
+you don't mind a pipe?"</p>
+
+<p>"I love it. I often fill and light dad's for him when he's busy. You
+ought to see him when he's tracking some Norse legend to its lair, or
+clearing up a point left doubtful by Frazer in the <i>Golden Bough</i>. Have
+you ever read Frazer? I know him and Mannhardt almost by heart. I help
+dad a lot in my own little way. Have you ever played cat's cradle?"</p>
+
+<p>"With a piece of string?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Well, games and folk-lore go together, and cat's cradle has been
+played since the ancient Britons wore&mdash;whatever ancient Britons did
+wear. Now, you're laughing at me."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I'm not. I was marveling at our kindred tastes. Have you heard
+of the Jatakas and Panchatantras of India?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know that there are such things."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll jot down two or three, with a translation."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, wouldn't dad love to meet you! He often growls because he can't
+read Sanskrit."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me where you live, and I'll look you up some day."</p>
+
+<p>"Our permanent address is&mdash;&mdash;Oh, my! Somebody's coming, and I don't want
+you to be cross with me again."</p>
+
+<p>She fled into the kitchen. The door had hardly closed when a shadow
+darkened the porch. Armathwaite, lighting his pipe, gazed through a
+cloud of smoke at a red-faced policeman.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" he said. "Who have <i>you</i> come for?"</p>
+
+<p>The policeman grinned, and saluted.</p>
+
+<p>"There's not much doing in Elmdale in my line, sir," he said. "I was
+told the Grange had a new tenant, so I just looked in. I come this way
+Thursday mornings and Monday nights, as a rule. I'm stationed at
+Bellerby, nearly three miles from here. Last time I was in this
+hall&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was too quick for him. Residence in Mr. Walker's "house
+'round the corner" had proved so rife in surprises that the long arm of
+coincidence might be expected to play its part at any moment. So he
+countered deftly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I can't be more hospitable," he broke in, advancing, and
+deliberately causing the constable to step back into the porch.
+"Everything is at sixes and sevens. I only arrived yesterday, and my
+boxes, as you see, are not yet unpacked."</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door, feeling certain that his judgment had not erred. It
+was soon justified.</p>
+
+<p>"Next time you're passing, give me a call," he went on. "I'll be able to
+offer you a whisky and soda or a bottle of beer. Are you the man who
+was brought here by a Mr. Benson on a certain occasion?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am, sir, and it was a nasty job, too. I'm glad someone has taken the
+place. It's a nice property, but the garden has gone to wrack and ruin
+since poor Mr. Garth went. Just look at them dandelions, growin' where
+there used to be a bed of the finest begonias I've ever seen! 'Begonia
+Smith' was the gardener's nickname for miles around. And convolvulus
+instead of sweet peas! It's a sin, that's what it is!"</p>
+
+<p>The policeman, clearly an enthusiast, took off his helmet, and wiped his
+forehead with a purple pocket-handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew Mr. Garth, I suppose?" said Armathwaite, strolling towards the
+dandelions, whose vigorous growth was so offensive to the horticultural
+eye. The other went with him, little thinking he was being headed off a
+scent which might lead to a greater tragedy than the devastation of a
+once well-kept garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Knew him well, sir. A very pleasant-spoken gentleman he was, an' all. I
+brought him a party of plow stots one day&mdash;men who dance in the villages
+at Martinmas, sir&mdash;and he was as pleased as Punch because they sang some
+old verses he'd never heard before. The last man in the world I'd ever
+have thought of to kill himself."</p>
+
+<p>"There was no doubt that he committed suicide?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, that there wasn't. He'd been dead two days when I cut him
+down. Well, no need to talk of it now, but even the doctor was rattled,
+though the weather was very hot that June."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite felt as if he had been conjured by some spiteful necromancer
+out of a smiling and sunlit English countryside into a realm of ghouls
+and poison-growths. A minute ago a charming and sweet-spoken girl had
+been chatting glibly about her father's wanderings in the by-ways of
+folk-lore, and now this stolid policeman was hinting at the gruesomeness
+of his task when called on to release the lifeless body of that same man
+from its dolorous perch beside the clock.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant he lost himself, and fixed such a penetrating glance on
+the constable that the latter grew uneasy, lest he had said something he
+ought not to have said. Armathwaite realized the mistake at once, and
+dropped those searching eyes from the other's anxious face to some
+scraps of ribbon sewn on the left breast of the dark blue tunic.</p>
+
+<p>"You have the Tirah medal, I see," he said. "Were you at Dargai?"</p>
+
+<p>The question achieved the immediate effect counted on.</p>
+
+<p>"I was, an' all, sir," and the ex-soldier squared his shoulders. "Though
+no Scottie, I was in the Gordon Highlanders. Were you there, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;er&mdash;yes, but as a non-combatant. I was in the Politicals&mdash;quite a
+youngster in those days, and I was fool enough to envy you that rush
+across the plateau."</p>
+
+<p>"It was warm work while it lasted, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"There have been few things to equal it in warfare. What time do you
+pass through the village on Monday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shortly after eleven, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"If you see a light, come in. If not, look me up next Thursday. If I'm
+fishing, I'll leave word with Mrs. Jackson that you're to have a
+refresher should you be that way inclined."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir. My name's Leadbitter, if ever you should want me."</p>
+
+<p>"And a jolly good name, too, for a man who fought against the Afridis.
+By the way, can you tell me what time the post leaves here?"</p>
+
+<p>"A rural postman calls at Thompson's shop for letters about half-past
+four, sir."</p>
+
+<p>A cigar changed hands, and P. C. Leadbitter strode off, holding his head
+high. It was a red-letter day. He had met one who knew what the storming
+of the Dargai Pass meant. Even the memories of Stephen Garth pendant
+from a hook beneath the china shelf faded into the mists of a country
+policeman's humdrum routine. He was halfway to Bellerby when he
+remembered that he had not done the one thing he meant doing&mdash;he had not
+asked Mr. Armathwaite's intentions with regard to the garden. Begonia
+Smith had retired to a village lying between Bellerby and Nuttonby.
+Though too old to take a new situation, he would jump at the chance of
+setting his beloved Grange garden in order again, and, of course, he was
+just the man for the job. Leadbitter believed in doing a good turn when
+opportunity offered. After tea, he went in search of Smith of the order
+Begoniaceae. To save half a mile of a three miles' tramp by road, he
+passed through the estate of Sir Berkeley Hutton, and met that
+redoubtable baronet himself strolling forth to see how the partridges
+were coming on.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" cried Hutton, knowing that his land was not in the policeman's
+district, "has that rascally herd of mine been gettin' full again?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Sir Berkeley, Jim's keepin' steady these days," was the answer.
+"There's a new tenant at the Grange, Elmdale; he'll be wantin' a
+gardener, I'm thinkin', so I'm going to put Begonia Smith on his
+track."</p>
+
+<p>"A new tenant! You don't tell me. What's his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"A Mr. Robert Armathwaite, Sir Berkeley. A very nice gentleman, too.
+Been in India, in the Politicals, he said. I didn't quite know what he
+meant&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But I do, by Jove, and a decent lot of chaps they are. Picked men, all
+of 'em. I must look him up. I haven't met anyone of that name, but we're
+sure to own scores of friends in common. Glad I met you, Leadbitter.
+I'll drive over there some day soon. Armathwaite, you say? Sounds like
+an old Yorkshire name, but it's new to me. The coveys are strong on the
+wing this year, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>So, all unwittingly so far as Armathwaite was concerned, his recognition
+of an Indian Frontier ribbon had set in motion strange forces, as a
+pebble falling from an Alpine summit can start an avalanche. In truth,
+he had not yet grasped the essential fact that residents in a secluded
+district of Yorkshire, or in any similar section of the United Kingdom,
+were close knit throughout astonishingly large areas. He had belonged to
+a ruling caste among an inferior race during so many active years that
+he still retained the habits of thought generated by knowledge of local
+conditions in India, where a town like Nuttonby would have little in
+common with a hamlet like Elmdale, whereas, in Yorkshire, Nuttonby knew
+the affairs of Elmdale almost as intimately as its own.</p>
+
+<p>But enlightenment on this point, and on many others, was coming
+speedily. He received the first sharp lesson within a few hours.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite Ogilvey might be a most industrious young lady when
+circumstances were favorable, but she had so many questions to put, and
+so much local news to absorb from Mrs. Jackson and Betty, that the
+morning slipped by without any material progress being made in the
+avowed object of her visit.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite, piling rows of books on the library floor, noticed that the
+collection of seven, ranging from a Sheffield cake-basket to a Baxter
+print, had not been added to. The girl wanted to know, of course, why
+Leadbitter came, and was told, though his references to the disheveled
+state of the garden were suppressed. Then she volunteered to help in
+disposing of the new lot of books, but her services were peremptorily
+declined.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a grumpy sort of cousin at times, Bob," she cried, and betook
+herself to the scullery and more entertaining company. She had been
+chatting there an hour, or longer, when she wheeled round on Mrs.
+Jackson with an astonished cry.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been here all the morning, and you've never said a word about my
+father and mother," she declared. "They're quite well, thank you; but
+you might have inquired."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there!" stammered Mrs. Jackson, "It was on the tip of me tongue
+half a dozen times, an' something drove it away again. An' how are they,
+Miss Meg?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've just told you. I do wish they'd come back to the Grange, but they
+seem to hate the very mention of it. I wonder why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Elmdale's a long way frae Lunnon," said Betty, catching at a straw in
+this sudden whirlpool.</p>
+
+<p>"We're just as far from London in Cornwall," laughed the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is that where you've gone?" put in Mrs. Jackson incautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Didn't you know? Hadn't you the address for letters?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss. Miggles said"&mdash;Miggles was the peripatetic postman&mdash;"that all
+letters had to be sent to Holloway &amp; Dobb, in Nuttonby."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite looked rather puzzled, because her recollection ran
+differently; she dropped the subject, thinking, doubtless, that her
+parents' behests had some good reason behind them, and ought to be
+respected.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyhow," she went on, "now that I've broken the ice by coming here, my
+people may be willing to return. I don't suppose Mr. Armathwaite will
+stay beyond the summer."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Walker tole me he thought of takin' the place for a year," said
+Mrs. Jackson.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed. I'll ask him at lunch. I've wasted the morning, so I'll stay
+another night, and start early to-morrow. You'll find me a bed in the
+cottage, won't you, Mrs. Jackson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mebbe, Mr. Armathwaite will be vexed," said Betty, making a
+half-hearted effort to carry out the compact between herself and her
+employer.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave Mr. Armathwaite to me," laughed Marguérite. "He's a bear, and he
+growls, but he has no claws, not for women, at any rate. No one could be
+nicer than he last night. I felt an awful fool, and looked it, too; but
+he didn't say a single word to cause me any embarrassment. Moreover, he
+intends crossing the moor with me, and I can't let him get lost in the
+dark. Men have died who were lost on that moor."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but that's in the winter, miss, when the snow's deep," said Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I do believe you want to get rid of me!" cried the other.</p>
+
+<p>Betty flushed guiltily. She was floundering in deep waters, and struck
+out blindly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, miss," she vowed. "You know me better than that. P'raps you'll
+be gettin' married one of these days, an' then you can please yourself,
+an' live here."</p>
+
+<p>"Married! Me get married, and leave dad and mums! Oh, dear no! One young
+man has asked me already, and I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Betty," said a voice from the doorway leading to the hall, "can you
+give me a duster?"</p>
+
+<p>The conclave started apart, like so many disturbed sparrows; but
+Armathwaite could make a shrewd guess as to the name of the "one young
+man," since he had Marguérite Ogilvey's own testimony for it that Percy
+Whittaker would "do anything" to oblige her, and what more likely than
+that such devotion should lead to matrimony?</p>
+
+<p>At luncheon he received with frigidity the girl's statement that she
+planned remaining in Elmdale till the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"There's really no reason to hurry," she said airily. "The Whittakers
+know where I am, and I'll send a postcard saying I'll be with them
+Friday evening."</p>
+
+<p>"I must remind you that every hour you prolong your visit you add to the
+risk of discovery," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Discovery of what, or by whom?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"I am only endeavoring to fall in with your own wishes. You came here
+secretly. You took pains to prevent anyone from recognizing you. Have
+you changed your mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I think I have. You see, your being here makes a heap of
+difference."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely. You ought to get away all the sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"First Betty&mdash;now you! I must indeed be an unwelcome guest in my
+father's house. Of course, I can't possibly stay now. There's a train
+from Leyburn at seven o'clock. I can catch it by leaving here at three,
+but I shan't start unless I go alone."</p>
+
+<p>She looked prettier than ever when her brown eyes sparkled with anger,
+but Armathwaite hardened his heart because of the grim shadow which she
+could not see but which was hourly becoming more visible to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Leyburn the station on the other side of the moor?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will remain here three weary months, Meg."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't pretend to understand," she cried wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I've paid three months' rent, and here I shall stay if a regiment of
+girls and a whole army of Percy Whittakers try to eject me. As I am
+equally resolved not to allow you to cross the moor unaccompanied, you
+will readily perceive the only logical outcome of your own decision."</p>
+
+<p>The brown eyes lost their fire, but acquired another sort of sheen.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened that you should speak so unkindly?" she quavered.
+"Last night and this morning you&mdash;you&mdash;didn't order me out. And I don't
+see why you should drag in Percy Whittaker. I only borrowed his togs."</p>
+
+<p>Many times in the history of this gray old world have woman's tears
+pierced armor and sapped fortresses. This hapless man yielded at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound it, Miss Ogilvey, I'd keep you here during the remainder of my
+days if I could arrange matters to my own liking and yours," he blurted
+out.</p>
+
+<p>She recovered her self-possession with amazing readiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Bob, you're talking nonsense," she tittered. "Aren't we making
+mountains out of molehills? I have lots to do, and hate being rushed. I
+can stay with Mrs. Jackson to-night, and you and I will set out for
+Leyburn early to-morrow. Then, if you don't care to face the return
+journey, you shall take train to Nuttonby and drive here. Isn't that a
+good plan?"</p>
+
+<p>"We must adopt it, at any rate," he said grudgingly. "But you promise
+to remain hidden all day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, even that. Now, let's stop squabbling, and eat. Tell me something
+about India. It must be an awfully jolly place. If I went there, should
+I be a mem-sahib?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is highly probable."</p>
+
+<p>"What a funny way to put it! Aren't all English ladies in India
+mem-sahibs?"</p>
+
+<p>"The married ones are. The spinsters are miss-sahibs."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed delightedly, and without any sense of awkwardness because of
+her own blunder.</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally they would be. That's rather neat when you come to think of
+it," she cried.</p>
+
+<p>Old jokes are ever new in someone's ears, or no comic paper could live
+beyond a year. When Betty came in with a gooseberry tart and cream, she
+heard the two calling each other "Bob" and "Meg," and reported thereon
+in the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me she's larnt summat (something) i' Cornwall," commented
+Mrs. Jackson.</p>
+
+<p>"And him old enough to be her father!" marveled Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Fiddlesticks! It's the life he's led that's aged him. He's not a day
+more'n thirty-five."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jackson was no bad judge. Her employer was in his thirty-sixth
+year.</p>
+
+<p>After luncheon, Marguérite Ogilvey collected her treasures, and, with
+Betty's help, packed them in boxes obtained at the village shop. Before
+tea, she wrote a letter, which Armathwaite took to the post. While
+there, he inquired about the fishing, and the grocer pointed out a very
+tall and stoutly-built man stacking hay at the bottom of a long field.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Mr. Burt," he said. "He owns a mile or more of the best water.
+If you were to go an' see him now, sir, you could settle things straight
+off."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want to have a word with Miggles."</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be here in ten minutes, sir, an' I'll tell him to give you a
+hail. The Nuttonby road passes the end of that field."</p>
+
+<p>Matters seemed to be arranged conveniently; as, indeed, they were, if
+sprites were laying snares for Robert Armathwaite's feet.</p>
+
+<p>He met Farmer Burt, and was given all fishing facilities at once. Nay,
+more, if this weather lasted, as was likely, and all the hay was saved
+by sunset, Burt himself would call next day, and reveal the lie of the
+land.</p>
+
+<p>"Make it Saturday," said Armathwaite, mindful of another fixture.</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>Someone shouted. It was Miggles, breast-high beyond a hedge. At that
+instant Armathwaite caught sight of a dog-cart swinging into Elmdale. A
+gallant figure at the reins seemed somehow familiar. Therefore, instead
+of describing the kind of bath he wished Tom Bland to bring from an
+ironmonger's, he said sharply to the postman:</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that in the dog-cart?"</p>
+
+<p>"Young Mr. Walker, o' Nuttonby, sir," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>James Walker! The man whom Marguérite Ogilvey said she hated, and such a
+phrase on a girl's lips with reference to a man like Walker almost
+invariably means that she has been pestered by his attentions. The
+Grange was nearly a mile distant, and Walker was now dashing through the
+village street.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn!" said Armathwaite, making off at top speed.</p>
+
+<p>Miggles gazed after him.</p>
+
+<p>"Rum houses draws rum coves," he said, trudging away on his daily round.
+"Not that he's the first who's damned young Jimmy Walker, not by a jolly
+long way!"</p>
+
+<p>Evidently, an Aristotelian postman.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE STORM BREAKS</h3>
+
+
+<p>Armathwaite's face, as he strode through Elmdale, was hardly that of a
+man who had found there the quiet and solitude he had stipulated for
+when in treaty with Walker &amp; Son. Its stern and harassed aspect was seen
+and commented on by a score of people. Though most of the inhabitants
+were busy in the fields, there were watchers in plenty peering from each
+farm and cottage. Already the village held in common the scanty stock of
+information possessed by the Jacksons concerning the Grange's new
+tenant, because mother and daughter were far too shrewd to provoke
+discussion by withholding the facts stated by the house agent. They knew
+that every urchin who could toddle had peeped through gate and hedges
+that morning; they were more alive than Armathwaite himself to the risk
+Miss Meg ran of being seen if she went outside the house, front or back,
+for ten seconds. The best way to disarm gossip was to answer as best
+they might the four questions put by every inquirer: Who is he? Where
+does he come from? Is he married? How long will he stop?</p>
+
+<p>Singularly enough, in a land of variable weather, Elmdale at this time
+was bathed in brilliant sunshine from morn till eve. The ripening crops,
+the green uplands, the moor, with its gorse just fading and its heather
+showing the first faint flush of purple, were steeped in the "great
+peacefulness of light" so dear to Ruskin. If one searched the earth it
+would be hard to find a nook where sorrow and evil were less likely to
+dree their weird; yet, Armathwaite expected to meet those grim sisters
+stalking through the ancient house when he saw an empty dog-cart and an
+open door; he seldom erred in such forecasts, and his divination was not
+at fault now.</p>
+
+<p>As he entered the hall, he heard the girl's voice, clear and crisp and
+scornful.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you say such things to me! How dare you! My father is alive
+and well. If he were here now&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>James Walker chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell that to the Marines," he began. The remainder of the sentence died
+on his lips when Armathwaite's tall form appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"You here, Mr. Walker?" said the Anglo-Indian calmly. Then, noting
+Marguérite Ogilvey's white face and distraught eyes, he assumed a
+mystified air, and cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Meg, what's gone wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>She flew to him instantly, clasping his arm, and the confident touch of
+her fingers thrilled him to the core.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad you've come back," she almost sobbed. "That&mdash;that
+nasty little man has been telling such horrid fibs. He says&mdash;he
+says&mdash;Oh, Bob, won't you send him away?"</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the mental equilibrium of James Walker, junior (his
+father was also James) was badly shaken. It oscillated violently in one
+direction when he noted the manner of address these two adopted the one
+to the other. It swung to another extreme on hearing himself described
+as "a nasty little man" by a girl for whom a long-dormant calf love had
+quickened in his veins when Tom Bland announced that "Meg Garth, or her
+ghost," was at the Grange that day. It positively wobbled when
+Armathwaite threw a protecting arm round the desired one's shoulders. So
+he listened, open-mouthed, when Armathwaite spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I wasn't at home, Meg, dear, when Mr. Walker arrived&mdash;or he
+wouldn't have troubled you," the mysterious stranger was saying. There
+was an unpleasant glint in the steely glance that accompanied the next
+words:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mr. Walker, come outside, and explain your business."</p>
+
+<p>But Walker was no country bumpkin, to be overawed and silenced by a man
+of superior social status. He was puzzled, and stung, stung beyond hope
+of cure. Yet he was not afraid. Certain qualities of sharpness and
+cuteness warned him that if he controlled his temper, and did not
+bluster, he held the whip hand in a situation of which the true
+inwardness was still hidden.</p>
+
+<p>"My business is not with you, Mr. Armathwaite," he said, with the utmost
+civility his tongue was capable of. "I heard of Miss Garth's arrival,
+and came to see her. It's not my fault if she's vexed at what I've said.
+I meant no offense. I only told the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"I have reason to believe that you forced yourself into Miss Garth's
+presence;" and, in repeating the name, Armathwaite pressed the girl's
+shoulder gently as an intimation that no good purpose would be served by
+any correction in that respect. "Again, and for the last time, I request
+you to leave her."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no last time about it," said Walker, who was watching
+Marguérite's wan and terror-stricken face. "I had a perfect right to
+call on Meg Garth. She daren't pretend she doesn't know me, and a false
+name can't humbug me, or Tom Bland, for that matter."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you only too well," broke in the girl with a vehemence that
+brought a momentary rush of color to her cheeks. "You annoyed me for two
+years, and I'm sorry now I didn't complain to my father about your
+ridiculous oglings and shilling boxes of chocolates, which I gave to the
+village children."</p>
+
+<p>She struck harder than she knew. Walker bridled like an annoyed
+turkey-cock. Armathwaite pressed Marguérite's shoulder a second time,
+and withdrew his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"If your ungracious admirer won't leave you, Meg, you had better leave
+him," he said, smiling into her woebegone face. "Go into the
+drawing-room, or join Mrs. Jackson. <i>I'll</i> deal with Mr. Walker."</p>
+
+<p>He held the door open, purposely blotting Walker out of sight, and the
+girl obeyed. She went out bravely enough, but he caught a smothered sob
+as she passed towards the kitchen. There also, he was bitterly aware,
+danger lurked in other guise, though the two well-disposed women might
+perchance have the wit to discredit Walker's revelations, whatever they
+were.</p>
+
+<p>Closing the door, which swung half open again without his knowledge, he
+turned an inquiring and most unfriendly eye on the unwanted visitor.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you are ashamed of yourself," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>If Walker had understood mankind better, he would not have
+misinterpreted that suave utterance by imagining, as he did, that it
+betokened fear of exposure. Unhappily, he strutted, and slapped a
+gaitered leg with a switch he carried in place of a whip.</p>
+
+<p>"Ashamed of nothing," he answered truculently. "I admit being sweet on
+the girl. What is there to be ashamed of in that, I'd like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's distinctly to your credit, in some ways," said Armathwaite. "I
+should have expected your tastes to run rather to barmaids, with an
+ultimate vote in favor of the daughter of a well-to-do butcher. I
+dislike class distinctions, Walker. Too often they savor of snobbery;
+but, in this instance, I am obliged to remind you that my cousin is a
+lady."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is that it? Cousins, are you? I wish you'd told me sooner."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"It might have saved this bit of bother, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think that any well-meant explanations on my part could cure
+you of an impertinent nature, Walker."</p>
+
+<p>"Dash it all, Mr. Armathwaite, why couldn't I visit Meg? I've seen and
+spoken to her scores of times."</p>
+
+<p>"But, even in Nuttonby, one does not thrust one's presence on a lady
+uninvited."</p>
+
+<p>Walker laughed. He could stand any amount of reproof as to his manners,
+because he rather prided himself on a swaggering disregard of other
+people's feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't stand on ceremony in Yorkshire," he said jauntily. "I opened
+the door, and actually heard her voice. There was no sense in Betty
+Jackson sayin' Miss Garth wasn't here, and I told her so pretty plainly.
+Then, out she came. What would you have done, in my shoes? Now, I ask
+you, sir, as man to man."</p>
+
+<p>"I would have striven not to insult her so grossly that she should be
+moved to tears."</p>
+
+<p>"But I didn't. Don't you believe it. I was pleasant as could be. She
+behaved like a regular little spit-fire. Turned on me as though she'd
+been waitin' for the chance. I can stand a lot, but I'm jiggered if I'd
+let her tell me she'd complain to her father, and have him take away the
+agency of the property from our firm, when her father is buried these
+two years in Bellerby churchyard. Why, she must think I'm dotty."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite moistened his lips with his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>"You enlightened her ignorance, I presume?" he inquired blandly.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know what she was gettin' at, but I asked her plump and plain
+who the 'Stephen Garth' was who hanged himself in this very house, and
+has his name and the date of his death on the stone over his grave....
+It strikes me that even you don't know the facts, Mr. Armathwaite. If
+her father is alive, who was the man who committed suicide?... And, by
+jing, <i>did</i> he commit suicide?"</p>
+
+<p>James Walker's theorizing ended suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"You poisonous little rat!" murmured Armathwaite, and seized him. Walker
+was young and active, and by no means a weakling or cowardly, but he
+resembled a jackal in the grip of a tiger when the hands closed on him
+which had choked the life out of Nas'r-ulla Khan, chief cut-throat of
+the Usman Khel. There was no struggle. He was flung face downwards on
+the table until the door was thrown wide. Then he was bundled neck and
+crop out of the house, and kicked along the twenty yards of curving path
+to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>There Armathwaite released him, a limp and profane object.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, go to Nuttonby, and stop there!" was the parting injunction he
+received. His bitterest humiliation lay in the knowledge that Marguérite
+Garth and Betty Jackson, hearing the racket, had rushed to hall and
+door, and were gloating over his discomfiture. A drop of bitterest gall
+was added by his assailant's subsequent behavior, for Armathwaite turned
+his back on him, and sauntered slowly to the house, seemingly quite
+assured that there would be no counter-attack. And, indeed, James Walker
+retained sufficient sense in his frenzied brain to realize that he had
+no earthly chance in a physical struggle with this demon of a man. So he
+climbed into the dog-cart, though not with his wonted agility, and drove
+away to Nuttonby without ever a backward glance.</p>
+
+<p>But he vowed vengeance, vowed it with all the intensity of a mean and
+stubborn nature. He had visions, at first, of a successful action for
+assault and battery; but, as his rage moderated, he saw certain
+difficulties in the way. His only witnesses would be hostile, and it was
+even questionable if a bench of magistrates would convict Armathwaite
+when it was shown that he, Walker, had virtually forced an entry into
+the house, and refused to leave when requested.</p>
+
+<p>But he could strike more subtly and vindictively through the
+authorities. Marguérite Garth had said that Stephen Garth was living,
+and Robert Armathwaite&mdash;that compound of iron knuckles and whip-cord
+muscles&mdash;had tacitly endorsed the statement. If that was true, who was
+the man buried in Stephen Garth's name and identity in the churchyard at
+Bellerby? He had a vague recollection of some difference of opinion
+between the coroner and a doctor at the inquest. He must refresh his
+memory by consulting a file of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>. In any event, he
+could stir a hornets' nest into furious activity and search the
+innermost recesses of the Grange with anguish-laden darts. Curse Meg
+Garth and her cousin! He'd teach both of 'em, that he would! If they
+thought that James Walker was done with because he had been flouted and
+ill-used, they were jolly well mistaken, see if they weren't!</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite Ogilvey was as tender-hearted a girl as ever breathed, but it
+needed super-human qualities&mdash;qualities that no woman could possibly
+possess and have red blood in her veins&mdash;to restrain the fierce joy
+which thrilled her being when she saw her persecutor driven forth with
+contumely. Betty Jackson, the village maid, was delighted but shocked;
+Marguérite, the educated and well-bred young lady, rejoiced candidly.</p>
+
+<p>"You've done just what I would have done if I were a strong man like
+you!" she cried tremulously, when Armathwaite faced her at the door.
+There was a light in her eyes which he gave no heed to at the
+moment&mdash;the light which comes into the eyes of woman when she is
+defended by her chosen mate&mdash;but he attributed it to excitement, and
+hastened to calm her.</p>
+
+<p>"I may have acted rashly," he said; "but I couldn't help it. Sometimes,
+one has to take the law into one's own hands. Surely, this is one of the
+occasions."</p>
+
+<p>"He'll keep clear of Elmdale for a bit," chortled Betty. "P'raps he
+thinks no one saw you kickin' him except ourselves. He's wrong! Half the
+village knows it! Old Mrs. Bolland nearly fell out of an upstairs window
+with cranin' her neck to see what was goin' on, an' there's little
+Johnnie Headlam runnin' down the ten-acre field now to tell Mr. Burt an'
+his men all about it."</p>
+
+<p>The girl had thoughtlessly blurted out a fact of far-reaching import.
+Armathwaite swung on his heel, and found gaping faces at every cottage
+backwindow, and above every hedge. Sleepy Elmdale had waked. Its usually
+deserted street was pullulating with child life. The sharp Walkers were
+somewhat too sharp on the land agency side of their business, and were
+cordially hated in consequence. The bouncing of Walker, junior, had not
+made him popular; his trouncing would provide a joyous epic for many a
+day. As for Marguérite Ogilvey's presence in the house, it was known far
+and wide already. She had been recognized by dozens of people. Elmdale,
+which might have figured as Goldsmith's deserted village five minutes
+earlier, was now a thriving place, all eyes and cackling tongues.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite had lost sight of that highly probable outcome of his
+action, nor did it trouble him greatly. The major happening, which he
+had striven so valiantly to avert, had come about through no fault of
+his; these minor issues were trivial and might be disregarded. In an
+earthquake the crumbling of a few bricks more or less is a matter of
+small account. He knew that when Marguérite Ogilvey had almost forgotten
+the downfall of Walker she would remember its immediate cause the more
+poignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Hadn't we better go indoors till the weather is cooler?" he said, and
+the sound of his calm voice, no less than the smile he managed to summon
+in aid, relaxed the tension.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, miss, shall I make a fresh pot of tea?" inquired Betty when the
+door was closed. There spoke the true Yorkshire breed. Let the heavens
+fall, but don't miss a meal.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Marguérite, holding her open hands pressed close to eyes and
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Armathwaite&mdash;"that is, if Miss Meg has not had her tea."</p>
+
+<p>Betty nodded, and hastened into the drawing-room, where, it appeared,
+tea was awaiting Armathwaite's return when Walker arrived on the scene.
+She emerged, carrying a tea-pot, and went to the kitchen. Marguérite was
+now crying silently. When the man caught her arm, meaning to lead her
+gently into the drawing-room, she broke into a very tempest of weeping,
+just as a child yields to an abandonment of grief when most assured of
+sympathy and protection.</p>
+
+<p>He took her to a chair, but did not attempt to pacify her. For one
+thing, he had a man's belief that a woman's hyper-sensitive nervous
+system may find benefit in what is known as "a good cry;" for another,
+he was not sorry to have a brief respite during which to collect and
+criticize his own ideas. He did not even try to conceal from himself the
+ugly fact that James Walker had put into one or two sentences of
+concentrated venom all that was known to him (Armathwaite) concerning
+the death in the house, and even a little more, because he had not
+learnt previously that Stephen Garth was buried at Bellerby. Nor did he
+permit himself to under-rate Marguérite's intelligence. Her heedless
+vivacity, and the occasional use of school-girl slang in her speech,
+were the mere externals of a thoughtful and well-stored mind. There was
+not the least chance that she would miss any phase of the tragedy which
+had puzzled and almost bewildered him by its vagueness and mystery. She
+would recall his own perplexed questions of the previous night. In all
+likelihood the Jacksons, mother and daughter, had said things which
+fuller knowledge would clothe with sinister significance. Walker's
+open-mouthed brutality had left nothing to the imagination. When
+Marguérite Ogilvey spoke, Armathwaite felt that he would be called on to
+deal with the most difficult problem he had ever tackled.</p>
+
+<p>When Betty came with a replenished tea-pot she would have attempted to
+soothe the girl's convulsive sobbing had not Armathwaite intervened.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave Miss Meg to me," he said. "She's going to stop crying in a
+minute, and vow that she looks a perfect fright, and must really go to
+her room and bathe her eyes. And I'm going to tell her that a
+handkerchief dipped in a teaspoonful of milk and dabbed on red eyes is
+more refreshing and healing than a bucketful of cold water. Then we'll
+have tea, and eke a stroll on the moor, and perchance Providence will
+send us a quiet hour in which to look at facts squarely in the face,
+whereupon some of us will know just where we are, and the world will not
+be quite so topsy-turvy as it appears at this moment."</p>
+
+<p>Betty gathered that the "master's" harangue was not meant for her, and
+withdrew, whereupon Marguérite dropped her hands and lifted her swimming
+eyes to Armathwaite's grave and kindly face.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that milk recipe of yours really intended for use?" she inquired,
+with a piteous attempt at a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole program has been carefully planned on the most up-to-date and
+utilitarian lines," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hurt Walker?" was her next rather unexpected question, while
+pouring some milk into a saucer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad."</p>
+
+<p>"How many boxes of chocolates did he send you?"</p>
+
+<p>"About half a dozen."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I kicked him at least once for each box&mdash;gave good measure, too."</p>
+
+<p>"It's horrid and un-Christian&mdash;still, I'm glad. Do you take sugar and
+cream?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Why of course? Some people don't."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm an emphatic person in my likes and dislikes, so I talk that way."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I should have done if you were not here."</p>
+
+<p>"You are too charitable. It is my being here that has caused all the
+worry."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I cannot take that view. There are happenings in life which, at the
+hour, seem to be the outcome of mere chance, but one realizes later that
+they were inevitable as autumn after spring."</p>
+
+<p>"What a libel on our English climate," he laughed. "Is there no summer,
+then? What about this present glorious revel of sunshine? Charles the
+Second, who never said a foolish thing and never did a wise one,
+remarked one day that, in his opinion, England possessed the best
+climate in the world, because no day was too hot or too cold to prevent
+a man from going out of doors. I've seen more of the world,
+geographically speaking, than his kingship, yet I agree with him."</p>
+
+<p>"My father&mdash;&mdash;" she began, but choked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me this, Meg: how long is it since you last saw your father?" he
+demanded, well knowing the futility of any attempt to divert her mind
+from a topic which must surely occupy it to the exclusion of all else.</p>
+
+<p>"Just a week ago," she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"Good! I need not insist, then, that our young friend in the red
+waistcoat is mistaken when he says that your father occupies a grave in
+Bellerby churchyard! Of course, I'm not pretending that you and I are
+not faced with a strange problem. With your permission, I propose that
+we solve it together. I'll keep nothing back. You, on your part, must
+answer such questions as I think necessary&mdash;unless, that is, you feel I
+am trespassing unduly into the private affairs of your family. I'm not
+well posted in the turns and twists of English country life, but I am
+quite certain of two things&mdash;first, the mystery attached to this house
+must be dissipated now, because the police authorities will insist on
+it; second, if they beat me, and you suffer, they'll have achieved
+something that no set of officials has succeeded in doing hitherto. Now,
+I want you to believe that, and to act in the assumption that God is in
+heaven, and all is well with the world."</p>
+
+<p>The girl smiled through her tears, and strove gallantly to eat one of
+the cheese-cakes for which Mrs. Jackson was renowned.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob," she said, after a little while, "will you tell me why you came to
+Elmdale?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted peace and solitude, plus some trout-fishing."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet you speak of engaging in some terrible combat against the law on my
+account."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you rather jumping at conclusions? Circumstances have conspired
+to build a bogey. A ghost which all Elmdale has seen in the hall
+resolves itself, on inquiry, into a shadow cast by a stained-glass
+window. Certain murderous-sounding thumps which I heard last night
+materialize into a charming young lady. Why shouldn't a death which took
+place in this house two years since prove equally susceptible of a
+simple explanation? No, we're not going to convert ourselves into a
+committee of two until you have taken one more cup of tea, one more
+cake, or two slices of bread and butter. Then you'll put on a hat, and
+I'll light a pipe, and we'll climb up to the moor. On the way I'll
+impart every scrap of information I've gathered thus far, and, when you
+have considered the situation in such light as I am able to cast on it,
+you will decide whether or not you are justified in telling me something
+of your recent history. Is it a bargain?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was only talking for the sake of keeping the girl's mind
+from brooding on the extraordinary facts thrust on her by Walker. He was
+sure she would treat a phenomenal set of affairs more rationally if she
+heard the story from his own lips. He would have liked, if possible, to
+have glanced over the report of the inquest in the newspaper promised by
+Betty, but decided that Marguérite Ogilvey must not be left to her own
+thoughts one instant longer than was absolutely necessary.</p>
+
+<p>Examination of the newspaper was deferred, therefore. When the girl ran
+downstairs to join him she had tied some scrap of blue veil over her hat
+in such wise that her face was screened in profile, so, as they breasted
+the hill together, he could hardly judge of the effect of the curious
+story he had to relate. He omitted nothing, minimized no detail. From
+the moment of his entry into the office of Walker &amp; Son, at Nuttonby, he
+gave a full and lucid narrative. Rather losing sight of his own altruism
+in his eagerness to show how essential it was that they should meet
+attack with the confidence engendered by being prepared for all possible
+developments, he was not aware of the wondering glances which Marguérite
+shot at him with increasing frequency.</p>
+
+<p>At last, he made an end. They had walked a mile or more, he talking
+steadily and the girl listening, only interposing a word now and again
+to show that she followed what he was saying, when he saw a man seated
+by the roadside at a little distance. The road dipped sharply at this
+point. They had crossed the first of a series of undulations which
+formed the great plateau of the moor, and Elmdale and its pastures were
+completely hidden.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall we turn back?" he said. "This fellow in front looks like a weary
+tourist, but I fancy you don't want to meet anyone just now, and I
+haven't noticed a branch path through the heather."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite was gazing curiously at the bent figure. Her eyes held the
+expression of one who sees something familiar while the other senses
+refuse to be convinced. Armathwaite, by reason of the veil, could not
+see that half-startled, wholly skeptical look, but her attitude was
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you know that chap?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps, in that quiet moorland, his voice carried farther than he
+imagined. Be that as it may, the tired one raised his drooping head, and
+looked their way.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it is&mdash;it must be!" cried Marguérite excitedly, though no man
+could guess whether she was pleased or annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"There can be no doubt about it," agreed Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"But, don't you see, he's waving to us? It's Percy Whittaker! Has he
+dropped from the skies?"</p>
+
+<p>"With a bump, I should guess," said Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>But inwardly he raged. Were these complications never to cease? That
+dejected figure was eloquent of fate. Somehow, its worn and nerveless
+aspect was menacing.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, he laughed, being one who flaunted fortune in that way.</p>
+
+<p>"If it really is Percy, let's go and cheer him up," he said. "He looks
+as though he needed comforting."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>A FAINT-HEARTED ALLY</h3>
+
+
+<p>That moment was a vital one in the lives of those two; it influenced the
+lives of others in lesser degree, but to Marguérite Ogilvey and Robert
+Armathwaite it meant so much that the man, in calm review of events
+subsequently, saw that it stood out from minor incidents in exactly the
+same dominant proportion as James Walker's hurried descent on Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage on the preceding day.</p>
+
+<p>Had Walker remained in the dog-cart, and shouted for the keys of the
+Grange, Mrs. Jackson would have contrived, by hook or by crook, to delay
+the examination of the house until Betty had smuggled "Miss Meg" into
+safety, in which case Armathwaite would never have met her. And, now, if
+the girl had quickened her pace&mdash;in eager delight, perhaps, breaking
+into a run&mdash;had she, either by voice or manner, shown that the
+unforeseen presence of Percy Whittaker on the moor was not only an
+extraordinary event in itself, but one which she hailed with unmitigated
+joy, Armathwaite would assuredly have stifled certain vague whisperings
+of imagination which, ere long, might exercise a disastrous influence on
+the theory he held in common with a well-known British general&mdash;namely,
+that empire-builders should not be married. But she stood stock still,
+and, without turning her head so that Armathwaite might see her face,
+said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it is the unexpected that happens, and the last person I dreamed
+of seeing to-day was Master Percy."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure it <i>is</i> Whittaker?" inquired Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>He put the question merely for the sake of saying something banal and
+commonplace. Not for an instant did he doubt the accuracy of
+Marguérite's clear brown eyes; but, oddly enough, the behavior of the
+dejected figure by the roadside lent reasonable cause for the implied
+doubt. Never did tired wayfarer look more weary or disconsolate. After
+that first glance, and a listless gesture, the stranger showed no other
+sign of recognition. To all seeming, he had reached the limit of his
+resources, physical and mental.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure?" echoed the girl. "Of course, I'm sure. There's only one Percy,
+and it's there now, beastly fagged after a long walk on a hot day in
+thin patent-leather shoes. Doesn't it remind you of a plucked weed
+drooping in the sunshine?"</p>
+
+<p>She moved on, walking rapidly now, but a slight undertone of annoyance
+had crept into her voice, tinging her humor with sarcasm. Armathwaite
+said nothing. The sun-laved landscape glowed again after a few seconds
+of cold brilliance&mdash;a natural phenomenon all the more remarkable
+inasmuch as no cloud flecked the sky.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, in silence, they neared the limp individuality huddled dejectedly
+on a strip of turf by the roadside. To Armathwaite's carefully
+suppressed amusement, he saw that the wanderer was indeed wearing thin,
+patent-leather shoes.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy!" cried the girl.</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked up again. He drew the fore-finger of his right hand around
+the back of his neck between collar and skin, as though his head
+required adjustment in this new position.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Meg!" he said, and the greeting was not only languid but bored.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world are you doing here?" she went on, halting in front of
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno," he said. "I'm beastly fagged, I can tell you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite smiled, but Marguérite laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing to grin at," came the querulous protest. "Once upon a
+time I labored under the impression that England was a civilized
+country, but now I find it's habitable only in parts, and this isn't one
+of the parts, not by a jolly long way. I say, Meg, you booked to
+Leyburn, didn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"But you never walked over this moor?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wish I'd known as much about Yorkshire before I started as I do
+now&mdash;that's all."</p>
+
+<p>Again he twisted his neck and freed it from the chafing contact of a
+tight collar. After a curious peep at Armathwaite, he bent a pair of
+gray-green eyes on the turf at his feet once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy, don't be stupid, but tell me why you've come," cried Marguérite.
+"There's no bad news from home, is there?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;that's all right. Edie sent me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"You said you'd wire or write. When no telegram came yesterday, and no
+letter this morning, she bundled me off by the next train. 'Go and see
+what has become of her?' was the order, and here I am. Where am I,
+please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Near Elmdale. I'm awfully sorry, Percy. I&mdash;I couldn't either telegraph
+or write yesterday. I've written to-day&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Near Elmdale!" he broke in. "Is it what the natives hereabouts call 'a
+canny bit' away?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;only a little over a mile. Poor Percy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Idiotic Percy! Percy, the silly ass! Percy, the blithering idiot! D'you
+see that suitcase?" and he swayed slightly, and directed a mournful
+glance at a small, leather portmanteau lying by his side. "I've sent
+that dashed thing, packed as it is now, by rail and parcels post scores
+of times, and they generally make it out as weighing about eleven
+pounds. That's a bally mistake. I must have swindled the railway
+companies and the Post Office out of a pot of money. It weighs a
+ton&mdash;one solid ton. And I've carried it dozens of miles. Me, mind you,
+who hates carrying things, clung to it as if my life depended on it. I
+started out from Leyburn station hours and hours ago. I asked a chap how
+far it was to Elmdale across the moor. He showed me the road, and said:
+'It's a gay bit, maister.' I climbed a hill at least five miles
+high&mdash;higher than any mountain in Europe I can remember reading
+about&mdash;and met a man. 'Is this the way to Elmdale?' I inquired. 'Ay,' he
+said. 'How far?' said I. 'It's a nice bit, maister,' said he. Being, as
+I thought, on top of the hill, I imagined that all I had to do was to
+walk down the other side; so I left him and rambled on. After walking
+miles and miles I met another man. 'How far to Elmdale?' I said. 'It's a
+canny bit, maister,' was his contribution. That knocked me out. I left
+him without another word. I staggered more miles, till I got this far;
+but when I saw the next hill I gave in. Tell me the worst, Meg, before I
+lie down and die. How far is it to Elmdale, really?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Armathwaite will carry your suitcase, and I'll take your arm, and
+you'll be at the Grange in twenty minutes. It's all down hill after we
+leave this slight dip."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Armathwaite?" inquired Percy dully, quite ignoring the other man's
+courteous smile at the implied introduction.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the new tenant of our house."</p>
+
+<p>"First I've heard of any new tenant."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing surprising in that," and Marguérite's voice grew almost snappy.
+"Get up, anyhow, unless you wish to have a mattress and a quilt brought
+here."</p>
+
+<p>The young man rose. He was not affecting a weariness he did not feel.
+Being a weedy youth, not built for feats of athleticism, the long walk
+in a hot sun over difficult country had taxed his physique unduly.</p>
+
+<p>"How d'ye do?" he said, raising lack-luster eyes to Armathwaite's.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm fit as a fiddle," said Armathwaite cheerfully, grabbing the
+portmanteau. "So will you be to-morrow. In fact, you'll be surprised how
+quickly your muscles will lose their stiffness when you sight the
+journey's end."</p>
+
+<p>"I've been doing that every five minutes during the past two hours," was
+the doleful answer.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite nodded sympathetically. Percy Whittaker struck him as a
+flabby creature, whose conversational style was unintentionally funny.
+Like Falstaff, if not humorous in himself, he was "the cause of humor in
+others."</p>
+
+<p>Truth to tell, Armathwaite gave him slight heed. He was mainly
+interested in Marguérite Ogilvey's attitude, and she was markedly
+irritated either by her friend's lackadaisical pose or because he had
+appeared at all. The girl softened, however, when she saw how Percy
+limped. She linked an arm in his, and the trio moved off.</p>
+
+<p>"How often have I told you to wear strong boots with good, stout soles?"
+she said. "I'm a good walker myself, but I don't tackle these moor roads
+in house slippers. Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite? One ought to be
+properly shod for trudging about the country."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem to understand that I hate trudging anywhere; the last
+thing I dreamed of when I left Chester this morning was that I should
+tramp half across Yorkshire," protested Whittaker.</p>
+
+<p>"Even now, I don't see why you came."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't help myself&mdash;Edie's orders."</p>
+
+<p>"But why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;er&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean that she knew I had gone away intending to wear a boy's
+clothes you needn't spare my feelings. Mr. Armathwaite knows all about
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"Does he? In that case, I'm spared any explanation. You see, Edie was
+naturally anxious. As for me, I hardly slept a wink last night through
+worrying about you. And then, a letter came for you this morning from
+your father. I recognized his handwriting, and it's marked 'Immediate.'
+Since there was no news from you, we were at a loss to decide on the
+best course to adopt. Now, I appeal to you, Mr. Armathwaite. Suppose&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I agree with you entirely," broke in Armathwaite. "I think Miss Ogilvey
+ought to be profoundly grateful for your self-sacrifice."</p>
+
+<p>"There, Meg, do you hear that? Self-sacrifice! I'm literally skinned in
+your service, and you only pitch into me. Now, I've done most of the
+talking. It's your turn. When are you coming home?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow, perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>"But, I say, Meg! There'll be a howling row with your people when they
+find out."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is dad's letter? You've brought it, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Edie thought that was the best plan. Here you are!"</p>
+
+<p>He produced a letter from a breast pocket, and sat down instantly when
+the girl murmured an apology and opened the envelope. Armathwaite
+refilled his pipe, and lit it. While doing so he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was scrutinizing him with a curiously subtle underlook, and
+the notion was borne in on him that the newcomer, though effete in some
+respects, might be alert enough in others. For one thing, the tired
+gray-green eyes had suddenly become critical; for another, a weak mouth
+was balanced by a somewhat stubborn chin. For all his amusingly
+plaintive air, this young man could be vindictive if he chose. At any
+rate, Armathwaite realized that another barrier had been thrust in the
+way of Marguérite Ogilvey's untroubled departure from Elmdale. Percy
+Whittaker was obviously an intimate friend, and the extraordinary crisis
+which had arisen in the Ogilvey household could hardly remain hidden
+from him. What use would he make of the knowledge? How would such a
+flabby youth act in circumstances which were utterly perplexing to a man
+ten years his senior in age and immeasurably more experienced?
+Armathwaite could not make up his mind. He must simply bide his time and
+act as he deemed expedient in conditions that varied so remarkably from
+hour to hour. At the moment, he was in the position of the master of a
+ship becalmed in the tropics, surrounded by an unvexed sea and a
+cloudless sky, yet warned by a sharp fall in the barometer that a
+typhoon was imminent.</p>
+
+<p>His thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Just like dad!" she cried. "He writes asking me to search among the old
+bookshops of Chester for one of the very volumes I am bringing from his
+own library. He knows it is here, yet persists in disregarding the fact.
+Mr. Armathwaite, what <i>am</i> I to think? Isn't it enough to turn one's
+hair gray?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a puzzling situation, certainly," said Armathwaite, quickly alive
+to the fact that, in Whittaker's presence, at any rate, the cousinship
+had been dropped.</p>
+
+<p>"What is?" demanded Whittaker. "Not much to make a fuss about in
+searching for a book, is there?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. But suppose I tell you that people here declare my father is dead,
+that he committed suicide two years ago, that he is buried in a
+neighboring cemetery, that his ghost is seen o' nights in our own
+house&mdash;what would you say then, Percy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd say that the inhabitants are well suited to their country, and the
+sooner you and I are away from both, the better for the pair of us."</p>
+
+<p>Meg crumpled up the letter in one hand, and hauled Whittaker to his feet
+with the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on," she said emphatically. "If you hear the whole story now
+you'll collapse. I'm glad you've arrived, though I thought at first you
+were adding to my worries. You can help in clearing up a mystery. Now,
+don't interrupt, but listen! I'm going to give you a plain,
+straightforward version of events which sound like the maddest sort of
+nonsense. You wouldn't believe a word I'm telling you if Mr. Armathwaite
+wasn't present. But he will vouch for every syllable, and, when I've
+finished, you'll agree that when I said we would leave here, 'to-morrow,
+perhaps,' I might just as well have substituted 'next week' or 'next
+month' for 'to-morrow.' Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite removed his pipe from between teeth that were biting
+savagely into its stem. He wished the girl had been more discreet, yet,
+how could he forbid these confidences?</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and no," he answered. "Yes, if you mean to constitute yourself
+into a court of inquiry; no, if you take my advice, and return to
+Chester with Mr. Whittaker without loss of time."</p>
+
+<p>"How is that possible?" she insisted, turning wondering eyes on him.
+"You yourself said that nothing we can do now will stop the authorities
+from re-opening the whole affair. There is no hope of closing people's
+mouths, Bob! Well, I've said it, and now Percy will be wild to learn the
+facts, because Meg Ogilvey doesn't run around calling by their Christian
+names men whom she has known a day without very good reason. But you
+don't know our local folk if you think our affairs are not being talked
+of in Elmdale and Nuttonby at this moment. Bland saw me, and James
+Walker will spread the tale far and wide. What good will I do by running
+away? Don't imagine I didn't hear what Walker said. He blurted out what
+you have hinted at. Some man was found dead in our house. It wasn't my
+father. Then, who was it?"</p>
+
+<p>In her excitement she was hurrying Percy along at a rare pace, and
+Armathwaite saw, with a chill of foreboding, that the other was stepping
+out without protest, all an ear for impending revelations.</p>
+
+<p>"From that point of view, Mr. Whittaker's presence is unquestionably
+advantageous," he said. "He is a friend in whom you can trust. He is
+acquainted with your relatives, I take it. His opinions will
+consequently be far weightier than mine."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way Bob talks when he's grumpy," said the girl, apparently
+for Whittaker's benefit alone. "He doesn't mean it really, but he thinks
+he ought to behave like a stage uncle and prevent an impulsive young
+thing from acting foolishly. Yet, all the time, he knows quite well that
+we could no more change the course of events now than hold back the
+tide."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kindly remember that if you were talking Greek, I'd have just
+about as much grasp of what you're saying as I have at this moment?" put
+in Whittaker.</p>
+
+<p>Thus recalled to her task, Marguérite did not deviate from it any
+further. By the time Percy Whittaker had dropped into a chair in the
+dining-room, he had heard exactly what had happened since Armathwaite
+arrived in Elmdale. As he was hungry, a meal was improvised. He said
+little, only interpolating a fairly shrewd question now and again while
+Marguérite was amplifying some part of her recital. About this time he
+developed a new trait. He seemed rather to shirk comments which would
+draw Armathwaite into the conversation. When the girl appealed to the
+latter to verify some statement of fact, Whittaker remained silent. Even
+when it was necessary to refer directly to Armathwaite, he did so
+obliquely.</p>
+
+<p>"You've spun a jolly queer yarn, Meg," he said, after she had retailed,
+for the second time, and with evident gusto, the discomfiture of James
+Walker. "I think it would be a good notion now if we found out what
+really did occur in this house after you and your mother went away.
+Didn't you say there was a newspaper report of the inquest handy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Betty Jackson promised to give it to Mr. Armathwaite."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, couldn't we see it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go and ask her for it," said Armathwaite, and he left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what, Meg," drawled Percy, pouring out a third cup of tea,
+"you're making a howling mistake in letting that chap share your
+confidence."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite's eyebrows curved in astonishment. The very suddenness of
+this attack was disconcerting.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not always easy to give reasons for one's ideas. I was just
+thinking that he's a complete stranger, and here he is acting as though
+he was the head of the family. Who is he? Where does he come from? Why
+is he poking his nose into your private affairs? By gad, I can see Edie
+sniffing at him if she was here in my place!"</p>
+
+<p>Some gleam of intuition warned the girl that she must repress the sharp
+retort on her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am glad your sister is not here," she said quietly. "You must
+have woefully misunderstood every word I have uttered if you imagine
+that Mr. Armathwaite has done anything but strive manfully to keep a
+sordid story from my ken. He tried to make me go away this morning, and
+again this afternoon. He would certainly send me off early to-morrow if
+he were not afraid of some terrible thing happening. Please don't begin
+by being prejudiced against Mr. Armathwaite. I have enough trouble
+staring me in the face to dispense with absurd suspicions of one who has
+been a very real friend."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker seemed to weigh the point. Marguérite's self-control probably
+angered him as greatly as any other of the amazing things which had come
+to his knowledge during the past hour. He had expected her to bridle in
+defense of the man in whom she reposed such trust; her very calmness was
+unexpected and annoying.</p>
+
+<p>"What will your people say when the whole business comes out?" he
+grumbled. "Dash it, Meg, I must speak plainly! It's no joke, you know,
+your coming here and being alone in the house with some fellow whom you
+never heard of before in your life."</p>
+
+<p>Her face paled, and her brown eyes had a glint of fire in them; but with
+a splendid effort, she managed again to frame words other than those
+eager to burst forth.</p>
+
+<p>"You miss the real problem that calls for solution," she said
+tremulously. "The consequences of my actions, no matter how foolish they
+may have been, count for nothing in comparison with the tragedy with
+which my father's name is bound up. Oh, Percy, don't you see what people
+must think? A man committed suicide in this house, and every one
+believed it was my father. Yet you yourself, less than an hour ago,
+brought me a letter written by my father yesterday! Suppose I leave
+Elmdale this instant&mdash;suppose, which is impossible, that the present
+excitement dies down&mdash;how can I go through life with such a ghastly
+secret weighing me down? It would drive me crazy!"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite's firm tread was audible as he crossed the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyhow, take my tip, and don't blurt out everything you know the minute
+you're asked," muttered her counselor, and the door opened.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite drew a chair to the window and unfolded a frayed newspaper,
+laying another on his knees. To all appearance, he had noted neither the
+sullen discontent in one face nor the white anguish in the other.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a copy of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>, dated June 22nd, two years
+ago," he said. "It contains what appears to be a verbatim report of the
+opening day's inquest, which seems to have created a rare stir, judging
+by the scare heads and space allotted to it. Will it distress you, Miss
+Ogilvey, if I go through it from beginning to end?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it will distress me very greatly, but I don't see how I can avoid
+hearing it. If one visits the dentist there is no use in pretending that
+having a tooth drawn doesn't hurt. Please read every word."</p>
+
+<p>He obeyed without further preamble. It was a disagreeable task, but he
+did not flinch from it, though well aware that the gruesome details
+would shock one of his hearers inexpressibly. Divested of the
+loud-sounding phrases with which a country reporter loves to clothe any
+incident of a sensational character, the newspaper added nothing to the
+facts already related by Betty Jackson and Police-constable Leadbitter,
+except a letter written and signed by the deceased man, in which he
+declared he had taken his own life because he was suffering from an
+incurable disease. It was only when the succeeding issue of the
+<i>Nuttonby Gazette</i> was scanned, with its report of the adjourned
+inquest, that new light was vouchsafed.</p>
+
+<p>The coroner was a Mr. Hill, a local solicitor; a Dr. Scaife, from
+Bellerby, who had conducted a post-mortem examination, had excited Mr.
+Hill's ire by his excessive caution in describing the cause of death.</p>
+
+<p>"I found no symptoms of what is popularly known as 'incurable disease,'"
+said the doctor. "The brain, heart, liver, lungs, and internal organs
+generally were in a fairly healthy state except for ordinary post-mortem
+indications. Death by hanging is usually capable of clear diagnosis.
+There is excessive fluidity of the blood, with hyperæmia of the lungs.
+The right side of the heart is engorged, and the left nearly empty. The
+mucous membrane of the trachea is injected, and appears of a
+cinnabar-red color. The abdominal veins are congested, and apoplexy of
+the brain is present as a secondary symptom. Contrary to common belief,
+the eyes do not start from the head, and the tongue seldom protrudes
+beyond the teeth. Indeed, the expression of the face does not differ
+from that seen in other forms of death, and, in this connection, it must
+be remembered that death, the result of disease, may present all the
+signs of death by suffocation. The body showed few of these indices."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind telling us what you are driving at, Dr. Scaife?" the
+coroner had asked. "Here is a man found hanging in his house, leaving a
+letter addressed to me in which he states his intention beyond a doubt.
+Do you wish the jury to believe that his death may nevertheless have
+been a natural one?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," was the reply. "I do not say that. But the absence of certain
+symptoms, and the presence of others, make it essential that I should
+state that Mr. Garth might just as well have died from apoplexy as from
+strangulation."</p>
+
+<p>"Are we to understand that Mr. Garth may have died from apoplexy and
+afterwards hanged himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"That would be nonsense," said Dr. Scaife.</p>
+
+<p>"I agree, most emphatically. Do you refuse to certify as to the cause of
+death?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I am merely fulfilling a duty by pointing out what I regard as
+discrepancies in the post-mortem conditions. I looked for signs of
+organic disease. There was none."</p>
+
+<p>Evidently, coroner and doctor were inclined to be testy with each other,
+and the newspaper report left the impression that Dr. Scaife was a
+hair-splitter. In the result, a verdict of "Suicide, while in a state of
+unsound mind," was returned.</p>
+
+<p>There followed a description of the interment in Bellerby churchyard of
+"the mortal remains of Stephen Garth," when the vicar read a "modified
+form of the burial service," while the "continued absence from Elmdale
+of the dead man's wife and daughter," was referred to without other
+comment.</p>
+
+<p>When Armathwaite laid aside the second newspaper, no one spoke for a
+minute or more. Percy Whittaker was seemingly interested in the effort
+of a fly to extract nutriment from a lump of sugar; Marguérite Ogilvey
+was staring at vacancy with wide-open, terror-laden eyes; Armathwaite
+himself appeared to be turning over the baffling problem in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>At last, Whittaker stirred uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>"What time does the post leave here, Meg?" he inquired. "I want to send
+Edie a line. She'll have a bad fit of the jumps if she hears from
+neither of us to-morrow."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>WHEREIN PERCY WHITTAKER PROVES HIMSELF A MAN OF ACTION</h3>
+
+
+<p>The rather bizarre question startled the girl out of her melancholy
+thoughts. She looked at Whittaker as though she had completely forgotten
+his presence.</p>
+
+<p>"The post," she repeated. "There is no post out of Elmdale this evening.
+Miggles passed through the village hours ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Miggles?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's the postman. We either see him ourselves or leave letters at
+Thompson's, the grocer's, before four o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"Then neither letter nor telegram can be dispatched to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. If you care to pay mileage to Bellerby, and the message is handed
+in before eight, Thompson will send a boy with a telegram."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker glanced at his watch. The hour was half-past six.</p>
+
+<p>"How far is Bellerby?" he said. "Tell me in terms of the clock, not in
+miles, which, as a method of reckoning in Yorkshire, conveys a sense of
+infinity."</p>
+
+<p>"A boy can bicycle there in half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, footsore as I am, I shall hie me to Thompson's."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not write your telegram here, and Betty will take it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks. I'll see to it myself. Then, if it doesn't reach Edie
+to-night, I can place a hand on my heart and vow I did all man could do,
+and failed."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not forgetting that I have written to her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Don't you see? A letter from you complicates matters even more. If
+she hears from Meg, and not a word is said about Percy, she'll wonder
+what has become of little me. I suppose Thompson's shop is not 'a nice
+bit' removed from the village?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is opposite the Fox and Hounds Inn. You can walk there in two
+minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite, who had risen, and was staring through the window during
+this brief colloquy, was struck by the quietly pertinacious note in
+Whittaker's voice. Moreover, he was listening carefully, since there was
+some faint trace of an accent which had a familiar sound in his ears. He
+waited, until the younger man had gone out and was walking gingerly down
+the garden path; progress downhill must have been a torture to sore
+toes, yet Whittaker was strangely determined to send that unnecessary
+telegram in person&mdash;unnecessary, that is, in view of the fact that a
+message dispatched next morning would have served the same purpose. Why?
+Armathwaite found that life bristled with interrogatives just then.</p>
+
+<p>Turning to look at Marguérite, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Your friend doesn't like me."</p>
+
+<p>She did not attempt to fence with him. Somehow, when her eyes met his, a
+new strength leaped in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy flatters himself on the ease with which he follows the line of
+least resistance, but in reality he is a somewhat shallow and
+transparent person," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a transparency of shallowness which occasionally hides a
+certain depth of mud."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he means no harm! His widowed sister, Mrs. Suarez, is a great
+stickler for the conventions, and she has infected him with her notions.
+She is the 'Edie' he speaks of. <i>My</i> chum is a younger sister,
+Christabel."</p>
+
+<p>"Suarez? An unusual name in England."</p>
+
+<p>"She married a Calcutta merchant. The Whittakers are Anglo-Indians."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite smiled. He knew now whence came that slightly sibilant
+accent. Whittaker was a blonde Eurasian, a species so rare that it was
+not surprising that even a close observer should have failed to detect
+the "touch of the tar-brush" at first sight. From that instant
+Armathwaite regarded him from an entirely new view-point. The Briton who
+has lived many years in the East holds firmly to the dogmatic principle
+that in the blend of two races the Eurasian is dowered with the virtues
+of neither and the vices of both. More than ever did he regret the
+qualms of the conventional Mrs. Suarez which had brought Percy Whittaker
+to Elmdale that day.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry he deems it advisable to distrust me," he went on. "How long
+have you been acquainted with the family?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ever since I went to school with Christabel at Brighton. She often came
+here during the summer holidays; and I used to visit her at
+Whitsuntide."</p>
+
+<p>"They are aware of your change of name, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. How could it be otherwise?"</p>
+
+<p>"A thoughtless question indeed. The notion was flitting through my mind
+that no one in Elmdale knew of it, or the fact was bound to have been
+made public at the inquest. The doctor who gave evidence&mdash;was he your
+regular medical attendant?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was an intimate friend rather than a doctor. He knew dad so well
+that he would scout the idea of suicide. Perhaps that explains his
+hesitating statement to the coroner. Oh, Mr. Armathwaite, what does it
+all mean? Was ever girl plunged into such a sea of trouble? What <i>am</i> I
+to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think you ought to send for your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"If she were here now she could only say what I am saying&mdash;that my
+father is alive and in the best of health."</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me if I seem to be cross-examining you, but I am groping
+blindly towards some theory which shall satisfy two conditions wholly
+irreconcilable at present. Your mother and you went away from Elmdale,
+leaving your father here. Do you remember the exact reason given for
+your departure?"</p>
+
+<p>"One day dad asked me to read some passages from a French treatise on
+Basque songs. It was rather technical stuff, and I stumbled over the
+translation, so he said I was losing my French, and that mother and I
+should go to Paris for a few weeks, and do a round of theaters. Of
+course, I was delighted&mdash;what girl wouldn't be? I couldn't pack quickly
+enough. When Paris emptied, towards the end of June, we went to Quimper,
+in Brittany. And there was another excuse, too. About that time we
+received news of the legacy, and dad thought we should get accustomed
+to the change of name more readily in a foreign country."</p>
+
+<p>"How long did you remain abroad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nearly three months. But dad joined us within a fortnight of our
+departure from England. He only remained at home to finish a book and
+clear up the lawyer's business about the money."</p>
+
+<p>"After your return, what happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"We had a month in London. Then my people took a house in Cornwall, near
+the village of Warleggan, a place tucked in beneath the moors, just as
+Elmdale is. Dad explained that he wanted to study the miracle plays at
+first hand, because the remnants of the language possessed by the old
+inhabitants were more helpful than grammars and Oxford translations."</p>
+
+<p>"Your mother raised no difficulties about the change of residence?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not the least. In a way, it was rather agreeable, both to mother and
+me. Here we saw very few people. In Warleggan, where dad's pen-name, now
+his own legally, gave him some social standing, the county families
+called. We were richer, too, and could afford to entertain, which we
+never did while in Elmdale."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite passed a hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of sheer
+bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"I still hold strongly to the opinion that you should send for Mrs.
+Ogilvey," he said, striving to cloak the motive underlying the
+suggestion, since he was assured now that the half-forgotten tragedy of
+the Grange would speedily burst into a new and sinister prominence in
+far-off Warleggan. "If she were here she could direct my efforts to
+choke off inquirers. We may be acting quite mistakenly. She knows
+everything&mdash;I am convinced of that&mdash;and her appearance would, in itself,
+serve to put matters on a more normal basis."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite sprang to her feet. Her fine eyes blazed with uncontrollable
+excitement, and her voice held a ring of defiance.</p>
+
+<p>"If my mother ought to come, why not my father?" she cried vehemently.
+"I know what you are thinking, but dare not say. You believe my father
+is a murderer? Is that it? You imagine that a man who would not wilfully
+harm a fly is capable of committing a dreadful crime and shielding
+himself under the assumption that he took his own life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't that rather unjust of you?" said Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not considering the justice or injustice of my words now. I am
+defending one whom I love. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She choked, and buried her face in her hands. Bitterly aware that he was
+only adding to her woes, he nerved himself for the ungracious task.</p>
+
+<p>"You are trying, like myself, to explain a set of extraordinary
+circumstances," he said. "Woman-like, you do not scruple to place on my
+shoulders the burden of your own vague suspicions. I am not so greatly
+concerned as you seem to imagine because of the possibility that your
+father may have killed someone. Unhappily, I myself have killed several
+men, in fair fight, and in the service of my country, but there is no
+blood-guiltiness on my conscience. Before I venture to describe any man
+as a murderer, I want to know whom he killed, and why."</p>
+
+<p>He made this amazing statement with the calm air of a sportsman
+contrasting the "bags" of rival grouse moors. Even in her bitter
+distress the girl was constrained to gaze at him in wonderment.</p>
+
+<p>"You think that the taking of human life may be justifiable?" she
+gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally. If not, why do we honor great soldiers with pensions and
+peerages?"</p>
+
+<p>"But that is in warfare, when nations are struggling for what they
+conceive to be their rights."</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes. The hardest tussle I was ever engaged in dealt with no more
+sacred trust than the safe-guarding of half a dozen bullocks. Certain
+fierce-whiskered scoundrels swore by the Prophet that they would rieve
+those cattle, and perhaps a rifle or two, with a collection of women's
+ornaments as a side line, while I was equally resolved that the lawful
+possessors thereof should not be harried. Fifteen men died in five
+minutes before the matter was settled in accordance with my wishes, and
+I accounted for three of them. I am not boasting of the achievement. It
+was a disagreeable necessity. I tell you of it now merely to dissipate
+any notion you may have formed as to my squeamishness in looking
+unpleasant facts squarely in the face. A man died here two years ago,
+and it would be sheer folly to pretend that your father knew nothing
+about it. I believe you will find that the dead man not only wore Mr.
+Garth's clothes, but bore such a close facial and physical resemblance
+to him that people who had known him half a lifetime were deceived.
+Then, there is the letter read by the coroner. I take it for granted
+that it was in your father's handwriting. If these things are true, and
+common sense tells me that we ought to go on that assumption, and on no
+other, Mr. Garth will surely be called upon to explain why he endeavored
+to hoodwink the authorities. If he comes here within the next few days
+he will certainly be arrested. That is why I ask you to send for your
+mother. Everything points to the belief that she knows why you left
+Elmdale. I reject the legacy theory <i>in toto</i>. By a strange coincidence,
+your parents may have had some money left to them by will about that
+time. If so, they merely took advantage of the fortunate chance which
+enabled them to explain the change of name without any violent wrenching
+of the probabilities. One word more to define my own position in this
+matter. I don't care tuppence whether or not your father killed anyone,
+or why. My sole concern is for you. I am responsible for the whole
+wretched muddle. Had I not gratified an impish taste for ferreting out
+mysteries, I would have allowed Betty Jackson to smuggle you out of the
+house yesterday. Had I obeyed the conventions&mdash;those shackles on the
+wayward-minded devised by generations of careful mammas&mdash;I would have
+bundled you off last night, or, if common charity forbade, sent you away
+at daybreak. Then, nothing would have happened, except that I should be
+burdened with a secret, no new thing in <i>my</i> life. Now, will you send
+for Mrs. Ogilvey?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," came the instant reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Despite Mr. Percy Whittaker's warning, will you trust me so far as to
+explain your reason for refusing?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by 'Percy Whittaker's warning'? I have told you
+nothing of what he said."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand the type of man. He could no more refrain from suggesting
+that I was actuated by some underhanded motive than a flea-ridden dog
+from scratching."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, don't pick a quarrel with Percy on my account," she pleaded
+tearfully.</p>
+
+<p>"On your account I shall suffer Percy, even though he bray me in a
+mortar."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, I'm&mdash;I'm sorry if I turned on you a little while ago. I
+apologize. You are really the only one I can appeal to for help at this
+moment. It was just because I felt the truth of all that you have said
+that I tried to force the same confession from you. Heaven help me, I am
+compelled to believe that my poor father got himself involved in some
+dreadful crime. It will all come out now. If the police get hold of him
+he will be put in prison. I must save him. Never did daughter love a
+father more than I love mine, and I'll sacrifice everything, reputation,
+happiness, even life itself, for his sake. And that is why my mother
+must not come here. I shall remain, and she will stay in Cornwall so as
+to safeguard him, if need be. You have no idea what an innocent he is in
+worldly affairs. If&mdash;if he had to escape&mdash;to get away from some foreign
+country&mdash;he could never manage it without her assistance. Don't you see,
+the decision must rest with me? I'll write to mother, and tell her what
+we know, and arrange some plan with her whereby dad will be able to
+avoid arrest. Oh, I can't make things clearer, but you are so kind and
+nice that you will understand&mdash;and help! Say you'll help, and I'll not
+cry any more&mdash;but be brave&mdash;and confident!"</p>
+
+<p>While uttering that broken appeal she had come near, and a timid hand
+now rested on his shoulder. He looked down into her swimming eyes and
+saw there the perfect faith of a child. Never was man more tempted to
+take a woman in his arms and kiss away her fears than was Robert
+Armathwaite at that instant, but he recoiled from the notion as though a
+snake had reared its basilisk head from out of a bed of sweet-scented
+flowers. Nevertheless, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and now his
+left arm was entwined with her right arm, and they stood there in
+unconsciously lover-like pose.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you said that, little girl," he said quietly. "I shall not
+disappoint you, depend on that. If we have to break every statute
+therein made and provided, we'll save your father from the consequences
+of his own blundering or wrong-doing. Now, leave everything to me. If
+strangers, other than the police, ask you questions, refer them to your
+'cousin.' Remember, you know nothing and can tell nothing as to bygone
+events, while you can say, if a demand is made for your father's present
+address, that I have advised you not to supply it. We must not appear to
+be actually defying the authorities. Our rôle is one of blank ignorance,
+combined with a pardonable curiosity to discover what all the fuss is
+about. I must not figure as a hindrance to inquiry, but merely as a
+distant relative who objects to your being bothered by a matter of which
+you, at least, have no knowledge. Now, one thing more&mdash;I want to see
+your father's handwriting. Will you give me the envelope which contained
+his letter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Better still," said Marguérite, drying her eyes with a scrap of lace
+which was supposed to be a pocket-handkerchief, "I'll give you the
+letter itself. You'll find it a highly incriminating document."</p>
+
+<p>To reach the letter, which she had tucked into a waistbelt, she had to
+withdraw the other hand from Armathwaite's shoulder. He had no excuse to
+hold her any longer in that protecting way, and his own hands fell.
+Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was gazing at them through the window.</p>
+
+<p>His first impulse was to tell his companion of this covert espionage,
+for it was nothing less. The two were talking in the drawing-room, so
+Whittaker had purposely walked past the porch in order to look in at
+them. Then he decided that the girl had worries in plenty without
+embroiling her with one who was admittedly an admirer, so he indulged in
+a little bit of acting on his own account.</p>
+
+<p>When she produced the letter, he turned his back on the window,
+ostensibly to obtain a better light, and, at the same time, drew
+slightly to one side. The handwriting was scholarly but curiously
+legible, betraying the habit of a dabbler in strange words who printed
+rather than wrote, lest some playful compositor should invent a new and
+confounding philology.</p>
+
+<p>The text certainly afforded a weird commentary on the circumstances
+which laid at the writer's door responsibility for an audacious crime.
+It ran:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">My Darling Meg</span>,&mdash;Chester has been a bookish city since the days of
+Julius Cæsar. I have small doubt, if one dug deep in its
+foundations, one would come across an original manuscript in J.
+C.'s own fist. I would impose a lighter task, however. Rummage one
+or two old bookshops, and get me Wentworth Webster's 'Basque
+Legends,' published in London in 1877 and 1879. I am hungering for
+it. Find it quickly, and come home. I need your sharp eyes.&mdash;Yours
+ever,</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Dad."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Marguérite watched Armathwaite's face while he read.</p>
+
+<p>"Enough to hang anybody, isn't it?" she cried, with dolorous effort to
+speak in lighter vein.</p>
+
+<p>"May I retain this? I shall take good care of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep it as a souvenir. The identical book is lying on the library
+table."</p>
+
+<p>Yet her mobile face clouded again, since it could not be denied that her
+father knew well that the book was in the Elmdale house, and was
+deliberately ignoring its existence there.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite affected to look through the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he said. "Whittaker has come back."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker, standing sideways, seemingly discovered them simultaneously.
+He came in.</p>
+
+<p>"Thompson speaks a language of his own," he drawled; "but the dispatch
+of a boy on a bicycle, and the resultant charge of three shillings, gave
+color to my belief that he understood the meaning of 'telegram.'
+Otherwise, his remarks were gibberish."</p>
+
+<p>"Percy," said Marguérite gravely, "Mr. Armathwaite and I have had a
+serious talk while you were out. He advised me to send for my mother,
+but, for various reasons, I have decided to fight this battle myself,
+with your aid, and Mr. Armathwaite's, of course."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker hesitated perceptibly before he spoke again. Like all
+neurotics, he had to flog himself into decision.</p>
+
+<p>"I fully expected something of the sort, Meg," he said at last. "As I
+don't approve of the present state of affairs, I took it on myself to
+ask Edie to wire Mrs. Ogilvey, bidding her travel north by the next
+train."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't dare!" breathed the girl, whose very lips whitened with
+consternation.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I dared all right! A fellow must assert himself occasionally,
+you know. I can see plainly that you intend remaining in Elmdale till
+the mystery you have tumbled into is cleared up. In that case, your
+mother is the right person to take hold of the situation. You'll be
+vexed with me, no doubt, and tell me that I had no business to
+interfere, but I've thought this thing out, and I'm backing my judgment
+against yours. In a week, or less, you'll thank me. See if you don't."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forgive you while I have breath in my body," she said,
+speaking with a slow laboriousness that revealed the tension of her
+feelings far more than the mere words.</p>
+
+<p>"I was sure you'd say that, and must put up with it for the time being.
+Anyhow, the thing is beyond our control now, and you know Edie well
+enough to guess that she'll do as I tell her."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you tell her? I have a right to ask."</p>
+
+<p>"I kept a copy of the message," he said with seeming nonchalance. "I'll
+read it: 'Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death which
+occurred in Grange two years ago. Telegraph her mother at once, and
+recommend immediate journey to Elmdale.' Unless I'm greatly mistaken,
+that will bring Mrs. Ogilvey here without delay, especially when Edie
+adds her own comments."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite sank into a chair. Her sky had fallen. She was too unnerved
+now to find relief even in tears. She continued to glower at Whittaker
+as though he had become some fearsome and abhorrent object. Evidently,
+however, he had steeled himself against some such attitude on her part.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't forget there's two to one in this argument, Meg," he said,
+sitting down and producing a cigarette. "Since Mr. Armathwaite has
+elected to be your champion after a very brief acquaintance, I must
+point out that, by your own admission, he recommended the same thing.
+The only difference is that while he talked I acted."</p>
+
+<p>For a little time there was silence. Whittaker, brazening the thing out,
+lighted the cigarette. Armathwaite, unable to indulge the impulse which
+suggested the one effective way in which this decadent half-breed could
+be restrained from future interference, could not trust himself to
+speak. As for the girl, she seemed to be tongue-tied, but her laboring
+breath gave eloquent testimony of surcharged emotions.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, wishing to ease the strain, Armathwaite glanced at his watch.
+The time was a few minutes after seven.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going into the village," he said. "I believe the dinner hour is
+7:30, but I may not return till much later, so you might kindly tell
+Betty that I shall forage for myself when I come in."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't leave me, Bob," came the despairing cry. "I can't bear to be left
+alone to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said, yielding instantly to that heart-felt appeal.
+"I'll entrust my business to a deputy. Look for me in ten minutes."</p>
+
+<p>He went out. The two in the room heard the front door close, and
+followed his firm tread as he strode to the gate. Then Marguérite rose,
+and flung wide a window, and her sorrow-laden eyes dwelt unseeing on the
+far horizon. She stood there, motionless, until Whittaker stirred
+fretfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Meg," he began, but was promptly stricken into silence
+again. Starting at the sound of his voice as though she had heard a
+serpent's hiss, the girl hurried away without a word, obviously making
+for the solitude of her own apartment.</p>
+
+<p>He lighted another cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"By gad!" he cackled to himself, apparently extracting amusement from a
+situation in which the majority of men would have found small cause for
+humor, "I've stopped those two from billing and cooing, or my name ain't
+Percy. I can't stomach that big chap, and that's a fact. He's just the
+sort of fellow a girl might lose her head over, but I've put a spoke in
+his wheel by bringing ma on the scene. Now I must sit tight, and play
+naughty little boy in the corner till she arrives. After that, I'll make
+it my business to shunt pa into some climate better suited for his
+particular complaint. Maybe I shan't figure so badly in Meg's estimation
+when she realizes that I did some hard thinking while the other johnny
+was making eyes at her. I've been looking for some sort of an explosion
+in this quarter ever since I read of the suicide of Stephen Garth at the
+Grange, Elmdale. I thought then there was something fishy going on, and
+I was jolly well not mistaken. If I hadn't been such a dashed fool as to
+tramp over that confounded moor I'd have been here hours sooner. But
+all's well that ends well, and this affair shan't slip out of my grip if
+I can help it."</p>
+
+<p>He had chosen a strange way in which to woo a maid, but there is no
+accounting for the vagaries of a warped mind, and Percy Whittaker was a
+true degenerate, one of those physically weak and mentally perverted
+beings</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In whose cold blood no spark of honor bides."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Yet, even his sluggish pulses could be stirred. The house which had
+witnessed strange scenes played by stronger actors might be trusted to
+deal sternly with this popinjay. He got his first taste of its quality
+before he was an hour older.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOWING THE REAL STRENGTH OF AN ILLUSION</h3>
+
+
+<p>Armathwaite went straight to Farmer Burt's house. He reasoned that Burt
+would be a likely possessor of a smart cob, and that among the farm
+hands would exist at least one boy of sufficient intelligence to carry
+through a simple commission without error. He was lucky in finding the
+farmer at home, watering his stock before completing the hay-making
+operations. In the bleak North the agriculturist wastes no time when the
+weather is propitious. If need be, Burt and his men would work till
+nearly midnight, and feel well pleased if thereby the last rick of dry,
+sweet-smelling hay was covered with a tarpaulin.</p>
+
+<p>Explanation, backed by ample payment, produced both the boy and the cob.
+In the result, the following telegram was handed in at Bellerby
+post-office ten minutes before the closing hour of eight:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Postmaster, York,&mdash;Kindly give this telegram and accompanying ten
+pounds to proprietor of principal garage in York. I want to hire
+powerful and reliable car with experienced chauffeur for one week
+at least. Will pay full rates on condition that car reaches me by
+noon to-morrow, Friday. Chauffeur should bring ample supply of
+petrol, as none available here. I send ten pounds as guarantee for
+order, and will remit balance of first week's charge in accordance
+with instructions conveyed by chauffeur. Owner of car will oblige
+by telegraphing acceptance of offer, with name and address, early
+to-morrow, paying porterage, which will be refunded.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Armathwaite</span>,
+The Grange, Elmdale, viâ Bellerby."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>It was a singular fact that the really effective means of burking
+inquiry by the local authorities only occurred to Armathwaite's
+perplexed brain as he was hurrying back to the Grange. When all was said
+and done, who in Elmdale actually knew that the erstwhile Stephen Garth
+was living? His daughter and Percy Whittaker! He, Armathwaite, could not
+even be certain that Whittaker had ever seen the man. Well, then,
+Marguérite had only to vow that her earlier statement was a sheer
+invention, a species of joke inspired by the worst possible taste&mdash;and
+Stephen Garth would rest quietly in his grave! The pretense left the
+mystery insoluble as ever where the girl herself was concerned, but
+that phase of the difficulty might be dealt with in the privacy of her
+own home. The chief draw-back&mdash;an official inquiry, with its
+far-reaching developments&mdash;would be surmounted. The Jacksons might be
+trusted to forget everything they had heard that day. There remained
+James Walker. Well, his evidence was discredited at the outset.
+Armathwaite himself would be a most convincing witness against Walker.
+It would be easy to show that the pushful and amorous youth who had
+bluffed his way into the house in order to insult a lady who would have
+nothing to do with him, and was forcibly ejected by the new tenant, had
+fallen into a singular and most amazing blunder when he said that
+Marguérite Garth had told him that her father was still alive.</p>
+
+<p>The more Armathwaite reviewed this possible way out of a really
+threatening situation the more he liked it. The surprising thing was
+that he had not thought of it sooner. Even Percy Whittaker's confounded
+impertinence in telegraphing to his sister was robbed of its sting.
+Suppose the police got wind of the message, they would make little of
+it. How did it run? "Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death
+which occurred in Grange two years ago." It was awkwardly phrased,
+perhaps, but was capable of explanation. She was "disturbed" by the
+"rumors." What rumors? Not that her father was not dead, but that some
+other man had died and been buried in his place! Who had spread the
+rumors? Why, Walker himself! Had he not jeered at Marguérite, and
+endeavored to palliate his offense by repeating the absurd tittle-tattle
+to the man who had kicked him out of the house? Thin ice, this; but it
+might bear if not pressed unduly. By rare luck Whittaker had asked his
+sister to communicate with the girl's mother. There was no reference to
+her father. In effect, a friend of long standing had recognized the fact
+that she had only one parent left.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was bothered by no scruples in this matter. He had promised
+Marguérite Ogilvey his help in her efforts to safeguard the father whom
+she held so dear, and he would fulfill his bond to the letter.
+Personally, he ran no risk. His acquaintance with Elmdale and its
+strange tragedy was only a day old. As for Marguérite herself, no jury
+in the land would punish a daughter who lied to protect her own father.
+There remained Percy Whittaker. What crooked line would that
+curiously-constituted youth take? He could be bribed into acquiescence;
+but what terms would he exact? Armathwaite felt a certain tightening of
+his lips when he answered his own question. At any rate, the vitally
+important thing now was to gain time, and he was confident that a bold
+front would carry a most attractive and winsome girl past the dangers of
+the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Oddly enough, as he neared the Grange, the old house itself seemed to
+smile at him in a friendly and encouraging way. The setting sun lent
+warmth to its gray walls and glinted cheerfully from its windows. One
+pane of glass in particular&mdash;probably because it had a slightly convex
+surface&mdash;a pane in one of the windows of Meg's bedroom, winked
+continuously as his body swayed with each onward stride. It might have
+been saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it to me! Leave it to me! I've watched ten generations of men and
+women passing beneath, and I know how gently Time deals with humanity's
+sorrows."</p>
+
+<p>The idea so obsessed him that he loitered inside the gate, and glanced
+up to see if, by any chance, Marguérite might be in the room and have
+noticed his approach. Yes, she was there! She threw open the window,
+which, in view of what happened within the next half-minute, moved
+upward with a noiseless ease that was absolutely uncanny.</p>
+
+<p>"Dinner is just coming in," she said. "Betty has put some hot water in
+your bedroom, the one opposite this, and you must hurry over your
+toilet."</p>
+
+<p>"I also have good news," he answered gayly. "I've hit on a plan that
+should rout the enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"Which enemy?" she asked in a lower tone.</p>
+
+<p>"The powers that be," and he waved a comprehensive arm to indicate the
+world at large. "By putting back the clock twenty-four hours we defeat
+every sort of combination that can take the field against us. I'll
+propound the scheme at dinner, so prepare to feast with a light heart."</p>
+
+<p>With expressive pantomime she inquired if Percy Whittaker was to share
+their council, and he replied with a nod. He was loth to deprive his
+eyes of the perfect picture she offered there, with her elbows resting
+on the window-sill, her head and shoulders set, as it were, in a frame,
+and the last rays of the sun brightening her pallid cheeks and weaving
+strands of spun gold in her brown hair. But the summons from the kitchen
+was not to be flouted, so he made for the door.</p>
+
+<p>It will be remembered that the hall was lighted directly from the upper
+part of the front door, and the stained-glass window on the half-landing
+of the stairs. Indirectly, its gloom could be dissipated by any one of
+three interior doors, but all of them happened to be closed. Thus, when
+Armathwaite's tall figure appeared in the porch, it effectually withdrew
+the light gained through the glass in the front door until the door
+itself was opened.</p>
+
+<p>He had his hand on the handle when he heard a most weird groaning and
+shrieking caused by the closing of the bedroom window. Practically in
+the same instant he caught an affrighted yell from inside the house, and
+some one shot violently down the stairs and into the hall, falling in a
+huddled heap on the floor. Armathwaite had the door open in a second,
+and found Percy Whittaker lying at the foot of the stairs, while
+Marguérite's voice came in a cry of alarm:</p>
+
+<p>"What is it? What has happened? Percy, is that you?"</p>
+
+<p>By that time Armathwaite had partly raised the fallen man, who did not
+seem to have an atom of breath left in his body. Mrs. Jackson, too, came
+from the kitchen with a lamp, and Marguérite appeared on the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" she cried again. "Did Percy fall? Is he hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>"I imagine he missed his footing on the stairs," said Armathwaite
+coolly. "At any rate, he struck the floor with such a thump that he is
+winded.... Now, old chap, pull yourself together! Can't you stand?
+Shall I carry you to a chair?"</p>
+
+<p>In a dazed way Whittaker endeavored to stand upright. At once he uttered
+a croak of agony, and would have collapsed once more if Armathwaite were
+not supporting him.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove!" exclaimed the other, "I'm afraid he is more damaged than I
+thought. Show a light here, Mrs. Jackson. Now, go ahead, and open the
+door of Mr. Whittaker's room if it is closed. I'll take him there, and
+find out the extent of the mischief."</p>
+
+<p>Even in the confusion of the moment Armathwaite noticed that Percy was
+gazing at the wall near the clock with the distended eyes of fear. Mrs.
+Jackson saw it, too, and with the outspokenness of her class, did not
+hesitate to put her thought into words.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, my, but t' poor young man'll hae seen t' ghost," she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I saw some spook," muttered Whittaker weakly. "Where is it? What was
+it? I'm sure I saw something."</p>
+
+<p>"Go upstairs," Armathwaite commanded Mrs. Jackson angrily. "Or, better
+still, hand the lamp to Miss Meg, and stop talking nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>Quickly he had Whittaker stretched on a bed, and soon ascertained that
+the trouble, whatever it might be, lay in the right ankle. The sufferer
+had taken off the patent-leather boots, and was wearing felt slippers,
+so examination of his injury was no difficult matter. Armathwaite,
+evidently no novice in such emergencies, shook his head when Whittaker
+flinched or cried aloud in pain if a tendon was touched or an effort
+made to twist the foot slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Put that lamp down," he said to Mrs. Jackson, "and bring me a basin of
+cold water. You, Meg," he went on, "might tear a sheet, or any piece of
+strong linen, into strips about three inches wide. Be as quick as you
+can, please! Every minute saved now may mean a week afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"What's gone wrong?" whispered Whittaker, when the women had flown. "Is
+it a smash?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank goodness! You'd not get over a broken ankle in a hurry. But
+you've collected a very nasty sprain, and possibly lacerated some
+ligaments as well. Fortunately, I know what to do before the joint has
+time to swell. How in the world did you contrive to pitch downstairs?
+The steps are broad, and the grade less than the average."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I didn't fall. That is, I mean I didn't trip or stumble over
+anything. I saw that thing&mdash;the ghost&mdash;and simply crumpled up. I think I
+must have nearly fainted."</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear fellow, what you took for a ghost was merely the
+reflection of a painted figure in a stained-glass window."</p>
+
+<p>"It was more than that. I'm not quite a fool. I never saw anything so
+ghastly in my life. Didn't you say that the man was found hanging in the
+hall near the clock? Well, I saw him, I tell you. I had turned the
+corner of the stairs when suddenly the beastly thing loomed up right in
+front of my eyes. Then it groaned most horribly. I couldn't be mistaken.
+I was thinking of nothing of the sort. In fact, I was wondering whether
+Meg would take a sensible view of things, and agree that I did right in
+getting Edie to send for her mater. Then that cursed vision appeared. If
+I didn't see it I'm going dotty. Why, I felt my hair rising, and I
+dropped as though I'd been shot."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, I can't convince you now," said Armathwaite, "but when you
+are able to get about again I'll show you just what happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Get about again? You don't mean to say I'm crocked for any length of
+time?"</p>
+
+<p>"For a day or two, at least," came the diplomatic assurance. "As soon as
+I've tied a rough bandage we'll send for a doctor, and he will be able
+to give you a definite opinion."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker groaned, and his eyelids closed wearily over the gray-green
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, d&mdash;&mdash;n this house!" he muttered. "It's bewitched! Why the devil did
+I ever come here?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite bound the injured limb tightly, and enjoined on Whittaker
+the necessity of remaining prone till a doctor arrived. There was little
+call for any such insistence. The unfortunate Percy was suffering enough
+pain already without adding to it by movement. He was persuaded to drink
+some milk, but the mere raising of his head to put a glass to his lips
+caused exquisite torture. Then Armathwaite left him, meaning to appeal
+to Farmer Burt for further assistance. Dinner was not to be thought of
+until a messenger was sent to Dr. Scaife, at Bellerby, and Meg and Mrs.
+Jackson remained with Whittaker in the meantime.</p>
+
+<p>While descending the stairs, Armathwaite gave special heed to the shadow
+cast by the window. It was dimly visible, but it seemed almost
+unbelievable that any person of ordinary intelligence could mistake it
+for a ghostly manifestation. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he
+summoned Betty Jackson.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind walking to the front door and standing close to it, so
+as to block the light which enters through the upper portion?" he said
+when she came.</p>
+
+<p>Wondering what he was driving at, she obeyed. Then the true cause of
+Whittaker's fright was revealed. The natural light through the plain
+glass of the door nearly overcame the weaker rays which filtered through
+the colored panes, but, as soon as the doorway was blocked, the figure
+of the Black Prince leaped into a prominence that was almost astounding,
+even to one who looked for some such development. The artist who had
+fashioned the window had followed the canons of medieval art. The
+armored knight, whose face gleamed palely through a raised visor, was
+poised as though standing on tip-toe, and a rib of the window rose
+straightly above his head. Thus, the reflection on the wall bore a most
+striking resemblance to a man hanging from the hook in the china shelf,
+while the sinister shadow deepened markedly when light was excluded from
+the only other source. The discovery of this simple fact not only
+explained the apparition which had sent Percy Whittaker headlong down
+the stairs, but also showed why gaping rustics could terrify themselves
+at will. The closer they peered the more visible became the "ghost."
+Even Betty understood what was happening, though she had not heard the
+orchestral effect of the complaining window-sash.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy on us!" she whispered in a scared way. "Who'd ever ha' thought of
+the like of that? You must have bin comin' in, sir, the very minnit the
+poor young gentleman put foot on the second flight o' steps, an' that
+thing just lepped at him."</p>
+
+<p>"Between us, at any rate, we have laid the ghost, Betty," said
+Armathwaite. "If Mr. Whittaker complains of increased pain while I am
+out, tell your mother or Miss Meg to pour cold water over the bandage.
+That will give him relief. Perhaps, later, warm fomentations may be
+required, but he is all right now till the doctor sees him."</p>
+
+<p>As he walked a second time to Burt's farm-house, his mind dwelt on the
+singular coincidence that produced the shadow on the wall about the very
+anniversary of the suicide&mdash;or murder&mdash;which had vexed the peace of
+Elmdale two years ago. To one who was wont to relieve the long nights of
+duty in an Indian frontier station by a good deal of varied scientific
+reading, the mystery of the vision in the Grange was dissipated as soon
+as it was understood. Its occurrence was possible only during a few
+evenings before and after the summer solstice, when the sun had traveled
+farthest north in the northern hemisphere. Its duration was limited to
+ten minutes at the utmost, because the sun sinks rapidly when nearing
+the horizon, and the specter's visits were further curtailed by clouds,
+since strong sunlight and a clear sky were indispensable conditions to
+its appearance.</p>
+
+<p>But, without posing as an authority on stained glass, Armathwaite was
+convinced that the window which had produced this disturbing phenomenon
+was not modern. The elder Walker had spoken of the Grange as a
+"seventeenth-century dwelling," and there was every likelihood that the
+painted effigy of the hero of Crecy had been installed by the original
+builder, who might have cherished the belief that he was a descendant of
+the gallant Edward and the Fair Maid of Kent.</p>
+
+<p>If that was so, the "ghost" has existed, not two Junes, but nearer three
+hundred, and must have been observed and commented upon countless times.
+It was odd that Marguérite Ogilvey had not mentioned the fact
+specifically. It was still more odd that a man should have been found
+hanged in that exact spot. Somehow, Armathwaite thrilled with a sense of
+discovery when that phase of the problem dawned on him. He was still
+turning it over in his thoughts when he reached Burt's farm.</p>
+
+<p>Here he was again fortunate. Some chance had kept the farmer at home,
+and, although the latter had neither man nor horse to spare for a second
+journey to Bellerby, he dispatched a messenger to a laborer in the
+village who owned a bicycle, and was always ready to ride the six miles
+for half a crown.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite, of course, had told Burt of the accident, and the farmer
+shook his head sapiently when he heard its cause.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay!" he said. "If I owned yon place I'd rive that window out by t'
+roots. It's done a fair share of mischief in its time&mdash;it has, an' all!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that it has been responsible for other mishaps?" was the
+natural query.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; three in my time, an' I'm the right side o' sixty yet."</p>
+
+<p>"What were they?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember t' first, because I was nobbut a little 'un, but I've
+heerd my faither tell on 't. Some folk o' t' neäm o' Faulkner lived
+there then, an' one o' their gells, who'd married a man called Ogilvey,
+I think, kem yam (came home) to have her first bairn where her mother
+could look after her. This Mrs. Ogilvey must h' known t' hoos an' its
+ways well enough, but yon spook gev her a bad start one evenin', for all
+that, an' her bairn was born afore time, and she nearly lost her life."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure the name was Ogilvey?" broke in Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ay! I mind it well, because I've got a dictionary in t' hoose by a
+man o't same neäm."</p>
+
+<p>"What became of this Mrs. Ogilvey?"</p>
+
+<p>"By gum, she cleared off as soon as she and t' youngster could get into
+a carriage, an' never showed her nose i' Elmdale again. Owd Faulkner
+took te drink in his last years, an' had a notion that he and the Black
+Prince could finish a bottle of wine together. One night he was suppin'
+his share as usual on t' stairs, an' he fell backwards over, an' bruk
+his neck. Then there was poor Mr. Garth's case, which ye'll hae heerd
+aboot, mebbe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I've heard of it," said Armathwaite. "How did Mr. Garth come into
+the property?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't rightly ken, but folk said it was through yan (one) o'
+Faulkner's married daughters. Gosh! He might ha' bin yon bairn. But, no!
+his neäm 'ud be Ogilvey then."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you ever told why the window should be erected in memory of the
+Black Prince?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay; the story is that the man who dug the first sod out o' the
+foundations broke ground on the fifteenth o' June, an' some larned owd
+codger said the fifteenth was t' Black Prince's birthday."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to be rather a slight excuse for such an elaborate window."</p>
+
+<p>Burt looked around cautiously, lest he should be overheard.</p>
+
+<p>"There was queer folk livin' when that hoos was built," he muttered.
+"Happen there's more 'n one sort o' Black Prince. I'm thinking meself
+that mebbe some rascal of a pirate had Owd Nick in his mind when he
+planned yon article."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite laughed. He was aware that a belief in witchcraft still
+lingered in these remote Yorkshire dales, but he was not prepared to
+find traces of devil-worship so far afield.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a very interesting matter," he said, "and, when I've got the
+invalid off my hands, I'll inquire further into the historical side of
+it. You see, the style of coloring and craftsmanship should enable an
+expert to date the window within very few years of its actual period.
+Ah, here's your man! I hope he found the bicyclist at home?"</p>
+
+<p>Assurance on that head was soon forthcoming. Armathwaite returned to the
+Grange, and, while going to Whittaker's room, he glanced curiously at
+the wall near the clock. Though a sufficiency of light still came
+through the window, and the mellow colors in a vignette border were
+surprisingly bright, there was not the slightest semblance of an
+apparition in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>But, such was the force of suggestion, after Burt's hint at bygone
+practice of the black arts within those ancient walls, he found now that
+the face framed in the open visor was cadaverous in the extreme, and had
+a sinister and repellent aspect.</p>
+
+<p>Cynic though he was in some respects, as he mounted the creaking stairs,
+he wondered.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>ARMATHWAITE STATES A CASE</h3>
+
+
+<p>After endeavoring, with no marked success, to console a fretful invalid
+with promises of alleviation of his sufferings by a skilled
+hand&mdash;promises made with the best of intent, though doomed to
+disappointment, because the immediate use of a tight bandage
+was precisely the treatment which any doctor would have
+recommended&mdash;Armathwaite joined Marguérite in a belated meal.</p>
+
+<p>The spirit of an infuriated cook must have raged in Mrs. Jackson's
+breast when she bade Betty "tell 'em to mak' the best of it, because
+everything is spiled." Nevertheless, they dined well, since Yorkshire
+love of good fare would not permit a real <i>débâcle</i> among the eatables.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite was utterly downcast when Armathwaite informed her that Percy
+Whittaker would be lucky if he could trust his weight on the injured
+ankle within the next month.</p>
+
+<p>"What a load of misfortune I carried with me yesterday over the moor!"
+she cried bitterly. "Yet, how could I foresee that an interfering woman
+like Edith Suarez would send Percy hotfoot in pursuit?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have formed a hazy idea of Mrs. Suarez from various remarks dropped
+by her brother and you," said Armathwaite. "If it is correct in the
+least particular, I am surprised that she ever let you leave Chester on
+such an errand."</p>
+
+<p>"She didn't. I came away without her knowledge!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!"</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't say 'Ah!' in that disapproving way. Why shouldn't I visit
+Elmdale and this house if I wanted to?"</p>
+
+<p>"You have quite failed to understand my exclamation. It was an
+involuntary tribute to my own powers."</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean that Edith is a cat, I agree with you. When she hears that
+Percy has fallen downstairs and lamed himself, she won't believe a word
+of it. Before we know where we are she will be here herself."</p>
+
+<p>"We have five bedrooms. The house will then be full," he said placidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Five? Oh! you include my mother in your reckoning. Bob, don't you think
+I ought to telegraph early in the morning and tell her not to come?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. If you adopt the scheme I have evolved for the routing of all
+Walkers and the like, the arrival of your mother will be the one thing
+requisite to insure its complete triumph."</p>
+
+<p>Then he laid bare his project. Stephen Garth was dead and buried. Let
+him remain so. Mrs. Ogilvey herself would be the first to approve of any
+fair means which would save her husband from the probing and prying of
+the police. There was always the probability that he was innocent of any
+crime. Even if, from the common-sense point of view, they must assume
+that he knew of the ghastly secret which the house could reveal sooner
+or later, it did not necessarily follow that such cognizance was a
+guilty one. Thus did Armathwaite juggle with words, until his hearer was
+convinced that he could secure her a respite from the tribulations of
+the morrow, at least, though the graver problem would remain to vex the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>They were yet talking earnestly when the iron hasp of the gate clicked
+in its socket.</p>
+
+<p>"Dr. Scaife!" cried Marguérite, rising hurriedly. Then she bethought
+herself. "I suppose it doesn't really matter now who sees me," she
+added, "and I should so much like to meet him. He is one of our oldest
+friends in Yorkshire."</p>
+
+<p>"Meet him, by all means; but don't forget your new rôle. In fact, it
+would be well if you rehearsed it at once. The doctor will be a valuable
+factor in the undoing of Walker."</p>
+
+<p>The bell rang. Armathwaite himself went to the door. A slightly-built,
+elderly man, wearing a bowler hat and an overcoat, was standing there.
+In the lane beyond the gate gleamed the lamps of a dog-cart, and a groom
+was holding the horse's head.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Doctor Scaife," announced the newcomer. "I'm told you have had an
+accident of some sort here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Armathwaite. "Come in, doctor! You've probably heard my
+name&mdash;Armathwaite. I've just rented this place for the summer, and a
+young friend of mine, who arrived unexpectedly to-day, had the ill-luck
+to slip on the stairs and sprain his ankle. I've done what I could by
+way of first-aid. I hope you received my message correctly?"</p>
+
+<p>"About the india-rubber bandage, do you mean? Yes, I've brought one.
+Lucky your man caught me. I was just starting for another village; but I
+can make the call on my way home. Where is the patient?"</p>
+
+<p>At that minute the doctor set eyes on Marguérite, who had come to the
+door of the dining-room. Her face was in shadow, because the lamp on the
+table was directly behind her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Uncle Ferdie, you dear old thing&mdash;don't you know me?" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Scaife was not a man of demonstrative habit; but, for once in his
+life, he literally gasped with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Meg!" he stammered. "My own little Meg!"</p>
+
+<p>He grasped her hands in both of his. A dozen questions were hovering on
+his lips, yet all he could find to say was:</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mrs. Garth here, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; mother comes to-morrow, or next day at latest."</p>
+
+<p>"You intend remaining, I hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, our movements are rather erratic, but we shall have several
+opportunities of meeting you before we go."</p>
+
+<p>Betty appeared, carrying a lamp, which she set on a bracket at the
+corner of the stairs. Scaife, still holding Meg's hand, drew her to the
+light.</p>
+
+<p>"Come here!" he said. "Let me have a good look at you. Prettier than
+ever, 'pon me soul! And how is your dear mother? Where have you buried
+yourself all this time? How long is it? Two years! Never a line to a
+forlorn uncle, even at Christmas! I shan't forgive you to-morrow, but
+I'm so pleased to see you to-night that at present I'll forget your
+neglect."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Ferdie, it was not my fault. Mother couldn't bear me to mention
+Elmdale or any of its associations."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, of course! of course! But time is the great healer. I'll pray for
+continued fine weather, so that her beloved moor may smile on her
+arrival. Well, well! I feel as though I had seen&mdash;er&mdash;seen a fairy. Mind
+you don't vanish before I come downstairs. I'm ready now, Mr.
+Armathwaite."</p>
+
+<p>The worthy doctor had nearly blundered, but he had executed what
+Americans call a "side-step" neatly enough. Armathwaite smiled at the
+girl. She had passed this initial test with honors. A couple more such
+experiences, and James Walker would be flouted as a mischievous fool if
+he talked of Stephen Garth being alive.</p>
+
+<p>As he piloted the doctor upstairs, Armathwaite glanced at the window of
+ill-omen. The light of the lamp had conquered the external gloaming. The
+leaded divisions of colored glass were apparently of one uniform tint.
+Even the somber figure in black armor had lost its predominance.</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker, who was lying on his back, tried to turn when the two men
+entered his bedroom. He groaned, and said querulously:</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't you have got here sooner, doctor? I'm suffering the worst sort
+of agony. This confounded ankle of mine must have been tied up all
+wrong."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll soon put that right," said Scaife, with professional
+cheerfulness. "Will you hold the lamp, Mr. Armathwaite, while I have a
+look? What time did the accident happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly at half-past seven," said Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor consulted his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come now, you're really very fortunate, Mr.&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Whittaker," put in Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes! Did you mention the name? The mere sight of Meg Garth drove
+everything else from my mind. But it's only a quarter to nine, Mr.
+Whittaker, and a messenger had to reach me at Bellerby, three miles
+away. Hello, who tied this bandage? You, Mr. Armathwaite? Have you had
+hospital training?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; nothing beyond the rough and ready ways of a camp. A friend in the
+Indian Medical certainly taught me how to adjust a strip of lint."</p>
+
+<p>"You shouldn't grumble, young man; you've been looked after in
+first-class style," said the doctor, smiling at Percy. "It may relieve
+your mind if I tell you that I couldn't have done any better myself. Or,
+perhaps, if the pain is very bad, you'll think that the poorest sort of
+consolation. Fortunately, Mr. Armathwaite warned me as to what had
+happened, so I've brought a lotion which will give you some relief. Now,
+tell me when I touch a sore place. I shan't hurt you more than is needed
+to find out exactly where the trouble lies."</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Scaife had reached the same conclusion as Armathwaite.
+Indeed, he gave the latter a look which was easily understandable. If it
+were not for the moral effect of his presence on the sufferer, he need
+not have been summoned from Bellerby that night. He applied the soothing
+lotion, however, and substituted a thin, india-rubber strip for the
+linen bandage. Then he and Armathwaite assisted Whittaker to undress,
+and placed him in bed as comfortably as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I want to assure you that the prompt attention you received
+prevented a very awkward swelling," said the doctor, before taking his
+departure. "You've sprained that ankle rather badly. If it had been
+allowed to swell it would have given you a very nasty time. As it is, if
+you're careful, you'll be able to hobble about in a fortnight."</p>
+
+<p>"A fortnight!" Whittaker almost shrieked. "I can't lie here a
+fortnight!"</p>
+
+<p>"Whether you remain here or not, you'll be lucky if you can put that
+foot on the ground within that time. You may be moved, if you're
+carried, though I don't advise it."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's perfect rot to talk about being stewed up in this room all
+that time," protested the other, his eyes gleaming yellow, and his
+fingers plucking nervously at the bed-clothes. "This isn't my house. I'm
+a stranger here. Besides, there are things I must do. I have to be up
+and about to-morrow, without fail."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Scaife nodded. He was far too wise a person to argue with an excited
+patient.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, wait till I examine you in the morning," he said. "Sometimes,
+injuries of the sprain order yield very rapidly to treatment. Take this,
+and you'll have a night's rest, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>He shook some crystals out of a small bottle into a little water, and
+watched Whittaker drinking the decoction.</p>
+
+<p>"Lie quiet now," he went on soothingly. "You'll soon be asleep. If that
+bandage hurts when you wake, you must grin and bear it. I'll be here
+about ten o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>Downstairs, he told Armathwaite that he had given Whittaker a stiff dose
+of bromide.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's the bottle," he said. "If he's awake in half an hour's time, let
+him have a similar lot. Don't be afraid. He can stand any amount of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite smiled, and Scaife smiled back at him. They understood,
+without further speech, that a youngster of pronounced neurotic
+temperament could withstand a quantity of the drug that would prove
+dangerous to the average man.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is he?" continued the doctor. "I haven't seen him here before. Is
+there any difficulty about his remaining in the Grange?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is a friend of Meg's," explained Armathwaite. "She was staying with
+his sister at Chester, and we all reached Elmdale within a few hours of
+one another."</p>
+
+<p>Thus was another pitfall safely skirted. By the time Dr. Scaife was in
+the dining-room and talking to Meg, he had arrived at conclusions which
+were perfectly reasonable and thoroughly erroneous.</p>
+
+<p>In response to Armathwaite, he promised to bring a nurse in the morning,
+as he was confident that the sprain would keep Whittaker bed-ridden at
+least a couple of weeks. Then he took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go and sit with Percy a little while now," said Marguérite. "Poor
+fellow! What a shame he should have met with this mishap after his
+gallant walk to-day. Perhaps that is why he fell. His muscles may have
+relaxed owing to over-exertion. Will you ever forgive me, Bob, for all
+the worry I have caused you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "I want you to remind me of it so often that we shall
+lose count of the number of times. But, before you go upstairs, let me
+warn you that Dr. Scaife gave our young friend about twenty grains of
+bromide in one gulp. He may be dozing. If he is, don't wake him."</p>
+
+<p>In a couple of minutes she was back in the library, where Armathwaite
+was seated with a book and a pipe.</p>
+
+<p>"He's asleep," she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to hear it. Now, come and sit down. Are you too tired to
+answer questions?"</p>
+
+<p>"Try me."</p>
+
+<p>"Concerning your change of name&mdash;can you explain more definitely how it
+came about?"</p>
+
+<p>"I told you. It was on account of a legacy."</p>
+
+<p>"But from whom? Who was the Ogilvey who left the money? A relative on
+your father's side, or your mother's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dad's, I understood."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear of anyone named Faulkner?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Some people of that name lived here years ago. We were distantly
+related. In fact, that is how the property came into dad's possession.
+But he never really went into details. One day he said he had made a
+will, leaving me everything, subject to a life interest for mother, and
+that when he was dead a lawyer would tell me all that I ought to know.
+Then I cried at the horrid thought that he would have to die at all, and
+he laughed at me, and that was the last I ever heard of it. Why do you
+ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"You remember that we promised not to hide anything from one another?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I remember."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, I think I have hit on a sort of a clew to the Ogilvey part
+of the mystery, at any rate. By the merest chance, while awaiting the
+return of Mr. Burt's man from the village, our talk turned on the
+history of this house. He spoke of the Faulkners, and mentioned the fact
+that the eldest son of a daughter of the family, a Mrs. Ogilvey, was
+born here. That would be some fifty odd years ago. How old is your
+father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fifty-four."</p>
+
+<p>"The dates tally, at all events."</p>
+
+<p>Meg knitted her brows over this cryptic remark.</p>
+
+<p>"But," she said, "if you imply that my father may be the son of a Mrs.
+Ogilvey, that would mean that his name never was Garth."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't such a guess rather improbable? I am twenty-two, and I was born
+in this very house, and I lived here twenty years except during school
+terms at Brighton and in Brussels, and we were known as Garths during
+all that long time."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite blew a big ring of smoke into the air, and darted a number
+of smaller rings through it. The pattern, beautifully distinct at first,
+was soon caught in a current from an open window, and eddied into
+shapelessness. He was thinking hard, and had acted unconsciously, so it
+was with a sense of surprise that he heard the girl laugh
+half-heartedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been forming mad and outrageous theories until my poor head
+aches," she said, answering the unspoken question in his eyes. "Some of
+them begin by being just as perfectly proportioned as your smoke-rings,
+but they fade away in the next breath."</p>
+
+<p>"My present theory is nebulous enough," he admitted, "but it is not
+altogether demolished yet. Can you endure a brief analysis of my
+thoughts? You won't be afraid, and lie awake for hours?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I mean that I want to hear everything you wish to tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"The man who died here two years ago must have resembled your father in
+no common degree. Dr. Scaife is not the sort of person who makes a
+mistake in such a vital matter as the identification of a dead body,
+especially when the subject is an old and valued friend of his. By the
+way, you called him uncle, but that, I take it, was merely an
+affectionate mode of address dating from your childhood?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It's a Yorkshire custom among intimates."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever heard of a real uncle&mdash;your father's brother&mdash;or of a
+first cousin who was very like him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have asked my people about relatives but we seemed to have none.
+Even the Ogilvey of the legacy was never mentioned by either of them
+until mother read me a letter from dad received while we were in Paris."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. This testamentary Ogilvey appeared on the scene soon after
+Stephen Garth died and was buried. Your father was well aware of that
+occurrence, because he contrived it. He knew that the man who died was
+coming here, so he sent your mother and you to Paris to get you safely
+out of the way. Now, don't begin to tremble, and frighten yourself into
+the belief that I am proving your father's guilt of some dreadful crime.
+You yourself are convinced that he is incapable of any such act. May I
+not share your good opinion of him, yet try to reach some sort of firm
+ground in a quagmire where a false step may prove disastrous? Suppose,
+Mr. Garth, as he was called at that time, merely got rid of his wife and
+daughter until an unwelcome guest had been received and sent on his way
+again, and that fate, with the crassness it can display at times,
+contrived that the visitor died, or was killed, or committed suicide, at
+the most awkward moment it is possible to conceive, can you not imagine
+a hapless, middle-aged scholar availing himself of the most unlikely
+kind of expedient in order to escape a scandal? Your father is a
+student, a writer, almost a recluse, yet such a man, driven suddenly
+into panic-stricken use of his wits, oft-times devises ways and means of
+humbugging the authorities which an ordinarily clever criminal would
+neither think of nor dare. I am insisting on this phase of the matter so
+that you and I may concentrate our intelligence on the line of inquiry
+most likely to yield results. Let me tabulate my contentions in
+chronological sequence:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>A.</i>&mdash;Mr. Garth received some news which led him to disturb the
+peaceful conditions of life which had obtained during twenty years.
+His first care was to send his wife and daughter to a place far
+removed from Elmdale.</p>
+
+<p><i>B.</i>&mdash;Mrs. Garth shared her husband's uneasiness, and agreed to
+fall in with the plan he had devised.</p>
+
+<p><i>C.</i>&mdash;In order to secure complete secrecy, the whole staff of
+servants was dismissed, practically at a moment's notice, and
+probably paid liberal compensation.</p>
+
+<p><i>D.</i>&mdash;After a week of this gradual obliteration of himself in
+Elmdale, Mr. Garth is missed, with the inevitable outcome that his
+dead body is found hanging in the hall, and, lest there should be
+any doubt as to his identity, a letter is left for the coroner, in
+which he asserts a thing, which his friend, Dr. Scaife, knew to be
+untrue, namely, that he was suffering from incurable disease. The
+statement, conveyed otherwise than in a letter, would have been
+received with skepticism; it was made with the definite object of
+giving a reason for an apparent suicide, and leaving testimony, in
+his own handwriting, that the disfigured body could be that of no
+other person than Stephen Garth. If a general resemblance of the
+dead to the living did not suffice&mdash;if the wearing of certain
+clothes, and the finding of certain documents and trinkets, such
+as a watch and chain, for instance&mdash;"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Marguérite, who had been listening intently, could no longer restrain
+her excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she cried, "that is so correct that it is quite wonderful. My
+father had a half-hunter gold watch and a chain of twisted leather which
+he wore as long as I can remember. Both had gone when he came to us in
+Paris; when I missed them, and asked what had become of them, he said
+they were lost, much to his annoyance, and he had been obliged to buy a
+new watch in London."</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing wonderful in treating a watch and chain as the first
+objects which would lead to a man's identification," said Armathwaite.
+"Now, don't let your admiration for the excessive wisdom of the court
+tempt you to interrupt again, because the court has not fully made up
+its own mind and is marshaling its views aloud in order to hear how they
+sound. Where were we? Still in Section D, I think. Well, granted that an
+obtuse policeman or a perplexed doctor refused to admit that Stephen
+Garth was dead, the letter would clinch the matter. Indeed, from the
+report of the inquest, we see that it did achieve its purpose. The
+remaining heads of the argument may be set forth briefly:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>E.</i>&mdash;Stephen Garth is buried at Bellerby, and Stephen Ogilvey
+steps into new life in Paris, wearing a literary cloak already
+prepared by many years of patient industry, though no one in
+Elmdale knew that its well-known resident was a famous writer on
+folk-lore.</p>
+
+<p><i>F.</i>&mdash;After some months of foreign travel, it was deemed safe to
+return to England, and Cornwall was chosen as a place of residence.
+The connection between rural Cornwall and rural Yorkshire is almost
+as remote as the influence of Mars on the earth. Both belong to the
+same system, and there would be trouble if they became detached,
+but, otherwise, they move in different orbits; they have plenty of
+interests in common, but no active cohesion. In a word, Stephen
+Ogilvey ran little risk in Cornwall of being recognized as Stephen
+Garth.</p>
+
+<p><i>G.</i>&mdash;Mrs. Ogilvey, a most estimable lady, and quite as unlikely as
+her scholar-husband to be associated with a crime, was a party to
+all these mysterious proceedings, and the combined object of
+husband and wife was to keep their daughter in ignorance of the
+facts for a time, at least, if not forever.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>"I don't think I need carry the demonstration any further to-night. You
+are not to retire to your room and sob yourself into a state of hysteria
+because your coming to Elmdale has threatened with destruction an
+edifice of deceit built with such care and skill. I am beginning to
+recognize now a fatalistic element in the events of the past twenty-four
+hours that suggests the steady march of a Greek tragedy to its
+predestined end. But the dramatic art has undergone many changes since
+the days of Euripides. Let's see if we cannot avail ourselves of modern
+methods, and keep the tragic <i>dénouement</i> in the place where it has been
+put already, namely, in Bellerby churchyard."</p>
+
+<p>The girl stood up, and gave him her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm almost certain, Bob, that if you and dad had five minutes' talk,
+there would be an end of the mystery," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"And a commencement of a long friendship, I hope," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met, and Meg's steady gaze faltered for the first time. She
+almost ran out of the room, and Armathwaite sat many minutes in utter
+stillness, looking through the window at the dark crest of the moor
+silhouetted against a star-lit sky. Then he refilled his pipe, and
+picked up the book he had taken haphazard from the well-stored shelves
+of that curiously constituted person, Stephen Ogilvey.</p>
+
+<p>It was a solid tome, entitled: "Scottish Criminal Trials," and lay side
+by side with "The Golden Bough," which Marguérite had spoken of, and a
+German work, "Geschichte des Teufels." Turning over the leaves, he found
+that someone had marked a passage with ink. The reference had been noted
+many years ago, because the marks were faded and brown, but the
+paragraph thus singled out had an extraordinary vivid bearing on the
+day's occurrences.</p>
+
+<p>It read:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"A statute of James I., still in force, enacts that all persons
+invoking an evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with,
+entertaining, employing, feeding or rewarding any evil spirit,
+shall be guilty of felony and suffer death."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Instantly there flitted before Armathwaite's vision a picture of the
+besotted Faulkner offering libations of wine to the black figure
+scowling from the stained-glass window. Perhaps the old toper had been
+lifting his head in a final bumper when he fell backward down the stairs
+and broke his neck.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite shut the book with a bang. When he went out, he found that
+Betty had forgotten to leave a candle in the hall, and he must either
+go upstairs in the dark or carry with him the lamp still burning on its
+bracket.</p>
+
+<p>He glared steadily at the dull outline of the effigy in armor.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not superstitious," he muttered, "but if I could have my own way
+with you, my beauty, I'd smash you into little bits!"</p>
+
+<p>Then, to show his contempt for all ghouls and demons, he extinguished
+the lamp, and felt his way by holding the banisters. It was creepy work.
+Once, he was aware of a curious contraction of the skin at the nape of
+his neck. He turned in a fury, and eyed the window. Now that no light
+came from the hall, some of its color was restored, and certain blue and
+orange tints in the border were so perfect in tone that he was moved
+from resentment to admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"Not for the first time in the history of art, the frame is better than
+the picture," he thought. "Very well, you imp of darkness, some day, and
+soon, I hope, we'll dislodge you and keep your setting."</p>
+
+<p>He did not ask himself whom he included in that pronoun "we." There was
+no need. The mighty had fallen at last. He loved Marguérite Ogilvey, and
+would marry her if she would accept him though her parents had committed
+all the crimes in the calendar, and her ancestors were wizards and
+necromancers without exception.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>James Walker, the younger, took thought while his cob paced the eight
+miles between Elmdale and Nuttonby. In the result, he changed his plans
+if not his intent. Pulling up outside the office of Holloway &amp; Dobb, he
+signaled a clerk who peered out at him through a dust-laden window. It
+is a singular fact that more dust gathers on the windows of offices
+occupied by respectable country solicitors than on the windows of all
+other professional men collectively.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind asking Mr. Dobb to come and see me for a minute on
+important business?" he said when the clerk came out.</p>
+
+<p>After befitting delay, Mr. Dobb appeared. He was portly and
+bespectacled, and not inclined to hurry. Moreover, he did not make a
+practice of holding consultations with clients in the street. It needed
+a man of county rank to prefer such a request, and Mr. Dobb,
+Commissioner for Oaths, and leading solicitor in Nuttonby, was very much
+astonished when he heard that "young Walker, the auctioneer," had
+invited him to step outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it?" he inquired stiffly, standing in the doorway, and
+clearly resolved not to budge another inch.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to trouble you, sir," said Walker humbly, "but I can't leave this
+pony when so near his stable. He'd take off on his own account."</p>
+
+<p>Dobb, though slightly mollified by an eminently reasonable explanation,
+did not offer to cross the pavement, so Walker, after glancing up and
+down the street to make sure that no passer-by could overhear, continued
+in a low tone:</p>
+
+<p>"I've just come from the Grange, Elmdale, and saw Miss Meg Garth there.
+She passed a remark which seemed to imply that her father is still
+living, and got very angry when I told her that he was dead and buried
+two years ago."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb descended from the doorway quickly enough then. Resting a fat
+hand on the rail of the dash-board, he looked up into Walker's red face.
+The scrutiny was not friendly. He was sure that the junior member of the
+firm of Walker &amp; Son had been drinking.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know what you are talking about?" he said, sternly.</p>
+
+<p>Walker leaned down, until his ferret eyes peered closely into those of
+the angry solicitor.</p>
+
+<p>"That's why I'm here, sir," he said, with the utmost deference of
+manner. "Of course, I'm aware that you represent the family&mdash;at any
+rate, with regard to the Elmdale property&mdash;and when Miss Meg herself
+said that her father was alive, and flew into a rage when I ventured to
+correct her, what was I to think? I admit I was knocked all of a heap,
+and may have put things rather bluntly, but there cannot be the
+slightest doubt as to what she meant. More than that, her cousin, Mr.
+Robert Armathwaite, bore out her statement, and got so mad with me for
+stickin' to it that Mr. Garth had committed suicide, that we almost came
+to blows."</p>
+
+<p>Walker was quite sober&mdash;the solicitor had no doubt on that score now.
+Perhaps vague memories stirred in the shrewd, legal mind, and recalled
+certain curious discrepancies he had noted in events already passing
+into the limbo of forgetfulness. He, too, looked to right and left, lest
+some keen-eared citizen should have crept up unobserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you take your trap to the stable and come back here?" he asked,
+thereby admitting that Walker's breach of decorum was condoned.</p>
+
+<p>"That's really what I had in mind, sir. I was afraid you might have left
+the office before I was at liberty, as I have a few matters to attend to
+when I reach our own place, and I didn't want to intrude by callin' at
+your house."</p>
+
+<p>Dobb was watching him critically, and was evidently becoming more
+puzzled each moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I need hardly tell you that you are bringing a very serious charge
+against someone," he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"No, that I'm not!" cried Walker emphatically. "I'm just telling you the
+plain facts. It's not my business to bring charges. I thought, in
+reality, that I was doing someone a good turn by comin' straight to you;
+but, if you don't agree, Mr. Dobb&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, I didn't mean my remark in that sense," explained the solicitor
+hastily, not without a disagreeable feeling that this perky young
+auctioneer seemed to know exactly what he was about. "I only wanted you
+to understand that grave issues may be bound up with an extraordinary
+story of this nature. Look here! I'm busy now. Will you be free at six
+o'clock?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come to my house, and we'll discuss matters fully. You say you
+saw and spoke to Miss Meg herself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir! No mistake. I've known her all my life."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then. Don't be later than six. I have some people coming to
+dinner at seven."</p>
+
+<p>Walker saluted with the switch he carried instead of a whip, clicked his
+tongue at the cob, and rattled away down the High Street. Dobb looked
+after him dubiously. He had been friendly with the Garths, and James
+Walker, junior, was almost the last person in Nuttonby he would have
+entrusted with any scandal or secret which affected them. However, in
+another hour, he would endeavor to gauge the true value of Walker's
+information. It might be a cock and bull yarn, in which case it would be
+a pleasure to sit on Walker heavily. Meanwhile, he would avail himself
+of the opportunity to go through certain papers in his possession, and
+come to the forthcoming interview primed with the facts.</p>
+
+<p>Every Thursday evening, at half-past five, the proprietor, editor, and
+manager of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>&mdash;a journalistic trinity comprised in
+one fussy little man named Banks&mdash;looked in at Walker and Son's office
+for the "copy" of the week's advertisements, Mr. Banks being then on his
+way back to the printing-works after tea. Thus, he killed two birds with
+one stone, since the Walkers not only controlled a good deal of
+miscellaneous advertising, but, moving about the countryside as they did
+in the course of their business, often gave him news paragraphs not
+otherwise available.</p>
+
+<p>Young Walker, of course, was prepared for this visit. Indeed, it loomed
+large in the scheme he had embarked on. Hurrying home, he changed into
+a suit of clothes calculated to impress Gwendoline Dobb, the solicitor's
+only unmarried daughter, if he met her, and then strolled to the High
+Street sanctum of the firm. Not a word did he say to his father as to
+happenings at Elmdale. The old man was altogether too cautious, he
+thought, and would assuredly tell him to shut his mouth, which was the
+last thing he meant to do where Meg Garth and her "bounder of a cousin"
+were concerned.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, when Banks hurried in, and asked the usual question: "Anything
+fresh, gentlemen?" Walker, senior, was by no means prepared for the
+thunderbolt which his son was about to launch.</p>
+
+<p>The older man told the journalist that Lady Hutton was giving a special
+prize for honey at the next agricultural show; that hay had been a
+bumper crop in the district; and that mangel wurzel was distinctly
+falling out of favor, items of an interest to Nuttonby readers that far
+transcended the clash of empires in the Balkans. Banks was going, when
+the son said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, you might like to mention that a Mr. Robert Armathwaite, a
+relative of the former occupants, has rented the Grange, Elmdale,
+probably for a period of twelve months."</p>
+
+<p>"A relative of the Garths, Jim&mdash;I didn't know that!" exclaimed his
+father.</p>
+
+<p>"It's right enough. Meg Garth herself told me."</p>
+
+<p>"Meg Garth! Is <i>she</i> here?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's at the Grange. Tom Bland told me she was there, so, after calling
+about those cattle at Bellerby to-day, I drove on to Elmdale and saw
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of all the surprising things! Then, Mr. Armathwaite must have
+known about the house when he came in yesterday?"</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday! While the three men were gazing at each other in the Walkers'
+office, Armathwaite and Marguérite Ogilvey were escorting Percy
+Whittaker down the moor road, and even wily James Walker, junior, little
+guessed what a whirlwind had enwrapped the new tenant of the Grange
+since, as the older Walker had put it, "he came in yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm jiggered if he did!" cried the younger man viciously.
+"Armathwaite had never heard the name of the place before we mentioned
+it. I'll swear that in any court of law in the land."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'd bear you out," agreed his father. "Not that I can see any
+reason why it should come into court. He paid up promptly, and we have
+nothing to bother about until the next quarter is due."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so sure of that," was the well-calculated answer.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you driving at, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"This. He's no more Meg Garth's cousin than I am. There's some queer
+game bein' played, and I'm a Dutchman if there isn't a row about it. I
+tell you, Meg Garth is there, alone, and, when I met her, she calmly
+informed me that her father was alive. She nearly jumped down my throat
+because I said he wasn't, and that fellow, Armathwaite, took her part.
+The Jacksons, too, mother and daughter, are mixed up in it somehow. If
+Stephen Garth is living, who is the man that was found hanged in the
+Grange two years ago, and why is he buried in Bellerby churchyard in
+Stephen Garth's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Jim, you should be careful what you're saying."</p>
+
+<p>Walker, senior, was troubled. He, like Dobb, fancied that strong liquor
+was inducing this fantasy, yet his son seldom erred in that respect;
+to-day his manner and appearance gave no other signs of intemperance.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm tellin' you just what took place. Who should know Meg Garth if <i>I</i>
+didn't? She called Armathwaite 'Bob,' and he called her 'Meg,' and they
+were as thick as thieves; but they left me in no doubt as to old Garth
+bein' still on the map. In fact, we had a regular row about it."</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove!" cried Banks, moistening his thin lips with his tongue. "This
+promises to be a sensation with a vengeance. Have you told the police?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. It's not my business."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so sure of that. Why, man, Stephen Garth left a letter for the
+coroner. Dr. Scaife was inclined to question the cause of death, but Mr.
+Hill closed him up like an oyster. Don't you see what it means? If
+Stephen Garth is living now, some unknown man was murdered in the
+Grange. He could neither have killed himself nor died from natural
+causes, since no one in their senses would have tried to conceal his
+death by letting it appear that they themselves were dead."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Banks expressed himself awkwardly, but his deduction was not at
+fault, and left his hearers under no doubt as to its significance. His
+eyes glistened. He could see the circulation of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>
+rising by thousands during the next few weeks, and at a time, too, when
+people were generally too busy to read newspapers, or buy extra copies
+for dispatch to friends in other parts of the country. What a thrice
+happy chance that this thing should have come to light on a Thursday
+evening! There was nothing in it yet that he dared telegraph to the
+morning newspapers in York and Leeds, but, by skillful manipulation, he
+could make plenty of it for his own sheet.</p>
+
+<p>"But it simply can't be true!" bleated Walker, senior, in a voice that
+quavered with sheer distress.</p>
+
+<p>"What isn't true?" demanded his son. "You don't doubt what I'm tellin'
+you, do you? Ask Tom Bland if Meg Garth isn't in Elmdale. He saw her,
+and she nodded at him through a window, but, when he asked about her,
+that pup, Armathwaite, swore she wasn't there, and that Bland had seen
+some other young lady. He couldn't take that line with me, because he
+was out when I called, and Meg and I were at it, hammer and tongs, when
+he came in."</p>
+
+<p>"At what, hammer and tongs?" gasped his father distractedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Arguin' about old Garth, she sayin' he was alive and well, and makin'
+out I was lyin' when I said he was dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, gentlemen, I must be off," said Banks, and the man who was
+still sore from the grip of Armathwaite's hands and the thrust of
+Armathwaite's boot knew that the first direct assault on the stronghold
+of Meg Garth's pride had begun.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, young fellow," said Walker, senior, recovering his wits with
+an effort, "you've set in motion more mischief than you reckon on. I
+wish to goodness you hadn't blurted out everything before Banks. You
+know what he is. He'll make a mountain out of a molehill."</p>
+
+<p>"I've found no molehill at Elmdale&mdash;don't you believe it," came the
+angry retort. "Why, you ought to have seen my face when Meg sprang that
+tale on me about her father. I just laughed at it. 'Tell that to the
+marines,' I said. By jing, it's no make-believe, though. Between you and
+me, it's as clear as a whistle that Stephen Garth committed a murder,
+and humbugged the whole countryside into thinkin' he had killed himself.
+Just throw your mind back a bit, and you'll see how the pieces of the
+puzzle fit. Mother and daughter get out of the way; servants are
+discharged; the man is brought to the house over the moor from Leyburn,
+just as old Garth escaped and Meg returned, for I'll swear she never
+came through Nuttonby station. Dr. Scaife was the only man who half
+guessed at the truth, but fussy Hill squelched him, all because of the
+letter. Then, neither Holloway &amp; Dobb, nor ourselves were given a free
+hand to deal with the house. Mrs. Garth didn't mean to part with
+it&mdash;twig? Of course, Garth daren't show his nose there, but, when he
+pegs out in reality, the other two can come back. It's all plain as a
+white gate when you see through it, and, when we get hold of
+Armathwaite's connection with it, we'll know every move in the game.
+He's in it, somehow, and up to the neck, too. You want to blame me for
+speakin' before Banks, but you've forgotten that Tom Bland told me this
+afternoon he had seen Miss Meg, and that lots of people knew I was there
+later. If she goes round tellin' folk her father isn't dead it would
+soon come out that she and I quarreled about it. Where would I be then?
+When you're not quite so rattled you'll admit that I was bound to speak,
+and that I've chosen just the right way to do it. If the police want me
+now as a witness they'll have to come to me, and that's a jolly sight
+better than that I should go to them. Do, for goodness' sake, give me
+credit for a little common sense!"</p>
+
+<p>And, having an eye on the clock, Walker, junior, bounced out, apparently
+in high dudgeon; but really well pleased with his own Machiavellian
+skill. Indeed, judged solely from a standard of evil-doing, he had been
+most successful. He knew well that Banks would go straight to the local
+superintendent of police, ostensibly for further information, but in
+reality to carry the great news, and set in motion the official mill
+which would grind out additional installments. But Walker's masterstroke
+lay with Dobb, who, in a sense, represented Mrs. Garth and her daughter.
+If Dobb could be brought to appreciate the gravity of the girl's
+statements anent her father&mdash;and his reception of Walker's story showed
+that he was prepared to treat it seriously&mdash;he would either write to
+Meg, asking her to visit Nuttonby, or go himself to Elmdale. In either
+event, she would be crushed into the dust. The elderly and trustworthy
+solicitor's testimony would carry weight. She could no longer deny that
+Stephen Garth was reputedly in his grave; she would be faced with the
+alternative that her father was an adroit criminal of the worst type,
+because public opinion invariably condemns a smug rogue far more heavily
+than the ne'er-do-well, who seems to be branded for the gallows from
+birth.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, by operation of the law that it is the unexpected that happens,
+James Walker, the second, was fated not to retire for a night's
+well-earned and much-needed repose with a mind wholly freed from
+anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>This came about in a peculiar way. By Mrs. Garth's request, soon after
+her departure from Elmdale, the solicitor invariably addressed her as
+Mrs. Ogilvey. At last, the notion got embedded in Mr. Dobb's mind that
+she had undoubtedly quarreled with her husband long before the latter
+committed suicide, and that the outcome of Garth's death was her speedy
+remarriage! From his recollection of her, she was certainly not the sort
+of woman whom he would credit with such a callous proceeding, but no
+man can spend a lifetime in a lawyer's office without gaining an insight
+into strange by-ways of human nature. The profession necessitates a
+close knowledge of the hidden lives and recondite actions of scores of
+one's fellow-creatures. Mr. Dobb knew a vicar who had committed bigamy,
+and a county magistrate who had been a petty thief for years before he
+was caught. That Mrs. Garth should marry again within a few weeks of her
+husband's burial might indeed be strange, but it sank into a commonplace
+category in comparison with other queer events he could name.</p>
+
+<p>Behold, then, young James arriving at The Beeches&mdash;a charming old house
+situated on the outskirts of Nuttonby; the "nut," as was becoming, was
+attired in a nut-brown suit, black shoes, a brown Homburg hat, socks and
+tie to match a shirt with heliotrope stripes, and yellow gloves.</p>
+
+<p>He had passed in at the gate in full view of a couple of girls of his
+acquaintance, and knew that they were glancing over a yew hedge when the
+front door opened and he was admitted. He was shown into a library,
+where Mr. Dobb awaited him. The lawyer motioned him to a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mr. Walker," he said curtly, "would you mind telling me exactly
+what happened at Elmdale this afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>James sat down. Unfortunately, the furniture provided a placid harmony
+in oak, so the seat of the chair was hard, even though it shone with the
+subdued polish of a hundred years of careful use and elbow grease
+applied by many generations of vigorous housemaids.</p>
+
+<p>"With your permission, sir, I&mdash;er&mdash;think I'd better begin&mdash;er&mdash;a little
+earlier."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter? Isn't that chair comfortable?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb was clerk to the magistrates in the Nuttonby Petty Sessions;
+his pet abhorrence was a fidgety witness, and Walker was obviously ill
+at ease.</p>
+
+<p>"The fact is, sir, I'm a bit saddle-galled. If you don't mind&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. Take that easy chair. What occurred 'a little earlier' which
+you think I ought to know?"</p>
+
+<p>Walker had been disagreeably reminded of Armathwaite, but he kept a
+venomous tongue well under control. He told the lawyer the circumstances
+under which Armathwaite, confessedly a complete stranger, had entered
+into the tenancy of the Grange, and described the journey to Elmdale,
+together with the curious behavior of the Jackson family. He was
+scrupulously accurate in his account of the cause and extent of his
+visit that day, even going so far as to admit that there was "a sort of
+a scuffle" between Armathwaite and himself.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb listened in silence. At the end, he fixed a singularly
+penetrating glance on the narrator.</p>
+
+<p>"In plain English, I suppose," he said, "this man, Armathwaite, bundled
+you out neck and crop?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. Not exactly that. But I couldn't fight him in Miss Meg's
+presence."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, from what you have told me, I gather that Mr. Armathwaite is a
+gentleman?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has all the airs of one," said Walker.</p>
+
+<p>"And he must have thought you had behaved discourteously to his cousin
+before he would use actual violence towards you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of the sort, sir. Miss Meg jumped down my throat for no reason
+whatever. Of course, Mr. Armathwaite hadn't heard the beginning of it,
+and may have imagined I was to blame, but I wasn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps there is an explanation that may be news to you. You are not
+aware, I take it, that Mrs. Garth is now Mrs. Ogilvey?"</p>
+
+<p>"By jing!" cried Walker, rather forgetting himself, "that's the name Tom
+Bland tried to tell me, but he couldn't rightly get his tongue round
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Probably. But don't you see the bearing this important fact has on
+to-day's proceedings? I have reason to believe that Mrs. Garth and her
+daughter disagreed with Mr. Garth before his death. At any rate, she
+seems to have married again within a very short time, and Miss Meg may
+have fancied that you were trying purposely to insult and annoy her by
+referring to a bygone tragedy. The mere presence of this Mr.
+Armathwaite, who is wholly unknown here, lends color to that assumption.
+He may be a 'cousin' by the second marriage. It is even conceivable that
+Mrs. Ogilvey, as Mrs. Garth now is, did not wish her second husband's
+relatives to know of the way in which her first husband met his death.
+The fact that Mr. Armathwaite rented the Grange can be regarded as
+nothing more than an ordinary coincidence. Isn't it possible, Mr.
+Walker, that you blundered very seriously in thrusting yourself into
+Miss Meg's presence, and forcing an unpalatable revelation on her?"</p>
+
+<p>Walker's red face positively blanched. For one instant his nerve failed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought of that," he muttered, in dire confusion.</p>
+
+<p>"It strikes me as a perfectly tenable theory," said Dobb, rising, and
+thereby showing that the interview was at an end. "You took me rather by
+surprise when you called me out of my office this afternoon, but I have
+given the matter some calm reflection in the interim, and have come to
+the conclusion that you found in Elmdale what is vulgarly known as a
+mare's nest."</p>
+
+<p>Walker stood up, too. He realized that he was being dismissed with
+ignominy, and resented it. Thumping an oak table with his clenched fist,
+he cried passionately:</p>
+
+<p>"Not me! You'll see in a day or two, Mr. Dobb, who's makin' the mistake.
+If I'm wrong I'll eat humble pie, but I'm not eatin' any now, thank you.
+I came to you, meanin' to do a good turn to all parties&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Restrain yourself, please," broke in the solicitor, speaking with cold
+dignity. "What kind of 'good turn' is it that rakes up bygone troubles,
+and spreads scandalous gossip?"</p>
+
+<p>"You've missed my point entirely, Mr. Dobb," protested Walker. "I
+thought that you, being a friend of the Garths, could drop a quiet hint
+to Miss Meg not to talk about her dead-and-gone father as though he
+might arrive here by the next train&mdash;that's all."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is not all. If it were, your attitude would be understandable,
+even praiseworthy. What you are saying indirectly is that Mr. Stephen
+Garth is alive, and that some unknown person lies in Bellerby
+churchyard."</p>
+
+<p>Thus cornered, Walker floundered badly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not able to argue with you, sir, and that's the truth," he said.
+"Neither do I want to be drawn into a squabble of this sort. Of course,
+I know nothing of any second marriage; but, even if I did, Miss Meg
+isn't a little girl, who might have forgotten her real father. Look
+here! I stick to my notion, and that's the long and the short of it.
+There's a mystery at Elmdale, and it's bound to come out, no matter what
+difference of opinion there may be between you and me."</p>
+
+<p>A parlormaid entered with a telegram.</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me one moment," said Mr. Dobb; "that is, unless you wish to go!"
+he added.</p>
+
+<p>Walker was constrained to put on a bold front before the servant.</p>
+
+<p>"I can wait another couple of minutes," he said off-handedly. The lawyer
+smiled; but, for his own purposes, he did not wish to quarrel outright
+with his visitor. He opened the buff envelope, and read, and not even
+the experience of a lifetime served to mask the incredulous dismay which
+leaped to his face.</p>
+
+<p>For the message ran:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Have reason to believe that a gentleman passing under the name of
+Robert Armathwaite is in or near Nuttonby. Kindly make guarded
+inquiries and wire result.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sigmatic.</span>"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Now, "Sigmatic" was the code address of a department of the India Office
+in which Mr. Dobb's eldest son held a responsible position. That
+phrase, "passing under the name of," suggested many possibilities to the
+legal mind. Moreover, the fact that a Government department was
+interested, and that the ordinary official channel for investigation was
+not employed, gave him furiously to think. In any event, he had been
+saved from the exceeding unwisdom of treating James Walker too
+cavalierly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll just answer this, as the messenger is waiting," he said
+pleasantly. "If you're not in a hurry, Mr. Walker, sit down again. I'll
+send in a decanter of sherry and some cigarettes. Help yourself, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>He went out. James Walker grinned, and plunged his clenched fists into
+his trousers pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"That telegram knocked old Dobb into a cocked hat," he mused. "Wonder
+what was in it? Something to do with the Garths, I'll bet! Keep a steady
+hand on the reins, Jimmy, my boy, and you'll finish with the best of 'em
+yet!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY</h3>
+
+
+<p>There were three bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor of the
+Grange, all nearly of equal size, and remarkably spacious, since they
+corresponded in area with the rooms beneath. Percy Whittaker occupied
+the westerly front room, Marguérite had pre-empted the easterly one, and
+Armathwaite's room lay in the north-east angle. Thus, he was early
+aroused by the morning sun, and was up and about long before Mrs.
+Jackson or Betty put in an appearance. For lack of the bath which he had
+been prevented from ordering through Tom Bland, he splashed in an
+old-fashioned shallow zinc contrivance which reminded him of former days
+in Baluchistan. Crossing the landing afterwards, meaning to look in on
+Percy Whittaker, he glanced at the now oddly familiar black figure in
+the stained-glass window.</p>
+
+<p>At the moment his thoughts were not dwelling on the topic which had
+occupied them, well nigh to the exclusion of all else, since he had
+first set eyes on Elmdale, yet, by some occult influence, no sooner did
+he meet the cold, unseeing glare of the painted effigy than his brain
+began to calculate the significance of certain dates. The <i>Nuttonby
+Gazette</i> dated Saturday, June 22nd, of two years ago, had stated that
+the inquest on Stephen Garth was held at the Fox and Hounds Inn,
+Elmdale, "to-day" (so the enterprising Banks had evidently brought out a
+special edition). Mrs. Jackson and Police Constable Leadbitter had
+deposed to the finding of the body on "Friday evening," which would be
+the 21st. Mrs. Jackson and Betty had last seen Garth alive on the
+Wednesday. Certain post-mortem indications showed that the death had
+taken place that night, the 19th. To-day, Friday, two years later, was
+the 19th! Armathwaite was not a nervous subject, but he was aware once
+more of a creepy sensation when he realized that this sunlit morning
+probably heralded in the fatal anniversary.</p>
+
+<p>Seen in a clear and penetrating light, and closely examined at an hour
+when each line stood out boldly, the face of the figure revealed certain
+peculiarities. Artists in stained glass seldom attempt to convey
+subtleties in flesh tints. At best, their craft is mainly decorative,
+and effects are obtained by judicious grouping of colors, each of a
+distinct tone value, rather than by the skilled merging of light into
+shadow, which is the painter's chief aim. But, in this instance, a
+deliberate attempt had been made to depict features of a truly
+malevolent cast. The oval formed by the open visor of the helmet gave
+scope for the use of an almost invisible casing of lead, which also
+provided the larger outline of the helmet itself, and of an enormous
+raven, with outstretched wings, perched on the crest.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, instead of the youthful and noble countenance which tradition would
+surely ascribe to a gallant prince, the face which peered from the
+casque was that of an evil-minded ascetic. Indeed, the longer
+Armathwaite looked, the more he was convinced that the artist had tried
+to suggest a mere skull covered with dead skin. The nose was pinched,
+and the nostrils were unpleasantly prominent. The lips were mere seams
+of dried parchment, and the cavernous eyes were really two empty
+sockets.</p>
+
+<p>This sinister and ghoul-like visage was totally at variance with the
+remainder of the work. The armor was correct from helm to sollerets,
+with hauberk and corselet, greaves and jambards, while the gauntleted
+hands were crossed, in true warrior fashion, on the hilt of a long,
+straight sword. The vignette border of tendrils and vine-leaves was
+charming in design and rich in well-blended color, and an observer of
+critical taste could not fail to compare the gross offense of the
+portrait with the quiet beauty of its setting. To some minds, there is
+an element in art which denies a true sense of harmony to a distorted
+imagination, and the notion was suddenly borne in on Armathwaite that
+the same hand had never limned that demoniac face and the remainder of
+the window. The one might have been the product of some debauchee
+steeped in the worst excesses of a libidinous society, while the other
+breathed the calm serenity of the Renaissance. Armathwaite had in full
+measure the hunter's instinct which incites mankind to seek out and
+destroy ferocious beasts. If he had a weapon in his hands at the moment
+he would have smashed that diabolical mask out of existence.</p>
+
+<p>The unaccountable spasm passed, and he entered Whittaker's room, to find
+that disconsolate youth lying on his back, wide awake, and staring
+blankly at the ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he said cheerily. "Had a good night's rest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty fair," muttered the invalid, turning his eyes dully on the
+other. "That doctor chap doped me, I expect. Anyhow I slept till I heard
+you splashin' in the bath."</p>
+
+<p>"How's the ankle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rotten. Look here, Mr. Armathwaite, you seem to understand this sort of
+thing. Bar jokes, how long must I remain here?"</p>
+
+<p>"In bed, do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"A week, at least. After that, you may be able to hop about on one leg."</p>
+
+<p>"If <i>you</i> were in my place, would you stop in bed a week?"</p>
+
+<p>"What else could I do? Even walking with a crutch is impossible because
+of the strain on the ligaments."</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker moved involuntarily, and was given a sharp reminder that his
+informant was not exaggerating his disability.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said sullenly. "What time is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"About six o'clock. Betty will bring you some tea and an egg before
+seven."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Ogilvey isn't up yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>Half unconsciously, Armathwaite resented the studied formality of that
+"Miss Ogilvey." He fully appreciated its intent. He was a stranger and
+must be kept at arm's length. Moreover, the crippled Percy held him at a
+disadvantage. The younger man might be as insolent as he
+chose&mdash;Armathwaite was muzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I do anything for you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"In what way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if the pain is very bad, an extra bandage, soaked in cold water,
+will relieve the burning sensation."</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks. I'll wait till the doctor comes."</p>
+
+<p>"He is bringing a nurse, by the way. You'll need proper attention for
+the next few days."</p>
+
+<p>"Right. Don't let me keep you. I think I can sleep another hour or so."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was at no loss to understand why the cub wished to be rid of
+him. Whittaker was not only torturing himself with the knowledge that
+his host would be free to enjoy Marguérite Ogilvey's company without let
+or hindrance, but he also felt a grudge against the fates which had
+snatched him out of active participation in the day's events. Neither
+dreamed that the accident would precipitate the crisis each wished to
+avoid. In fact, in view of what did actually happen, it would be
+interesting to speculate on the probable outcome if, by chance,
+Armathwaite had been disabled instead of Whittaker. But history, whether
+dealing with men or nations, recks little of "what might have been." It
+is far too busily occupied in fashioning the present and concealing the
+past, for, let students dig and delve ever so industriously, they seldom
+obtain a true record of occurrences which have shaken the world, while,
+in the lives of the few people with whom this chronicle deals, there
+were then at work certain minor influences which no one of them ever
+discerned in their entirety. There was nothing surprising in this. A
+crystal-minded woman like Marguérite Ogilvey could never adjust her
+perceptive faculties to the plane of a decadent Percy, while Robert
+Armathwaite was too impatient of ignoble minds that he should ever seek
+to uncover the mole-burrowings of James Walker.</p>
+
+<p>Certain developments took place which affected each and all in relative
+degrees, and each acted according to his or her bent. Beyond that,
+analysis of cause and effect can hardly be other than sheer guesswork.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite rummaged in the larder for a crust, chewed it, and, having
+thus appeased the laws of hygiene, lighted the first joyous pipe of the
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>He was smoking contentedly in the garden when a bent, elderly man
+approached. Though twisted with rheumatism&mdash;the painful tribute which
+Mother Earth exacts from those of her sons who know how to obtain her
+chief treasures&mdash;this man quickened into a new life when he saw
+Armathwaite. He cast a sorrowing glance at the wilderness of weeds as he
+came up the garden path, but his weather-lined face broke into a
+pleasant smile as he halted in front of the new tenant.</p>
+
+<p>"Good mornin', sir," he said, touching his hat, though the action was
+devoid of any semblance of servility. "Things are in a nice mess, aren't
+they?" and he wheeled round to gaze at dandelions rampant in a bed
+sacred to begonias.</p>
+
+<p>"They are, indeed!" agreed Armathwaite, wondering what white-haired
+philosopher had come on the scene.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be Mr. Armathwaite, I'm thinkin'?" went on the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"My name's Smith, sir. Mr. Leadbitter, the policeman, told me you had
+taken on the Grange. Mebbe you'll be wantin' a gardener."</p>
+
+<p>A light broke in on Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Begonia Smith!" he cried. "Come back to the old love&mdash;is that it?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's it, sir. She looks as if she wanted someone to look after her."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Take charge. It's too late in the year to grow flowers or
+vegetables, but you can tidy things up a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"A man who has his heart in the job, sir, can grow flowers at any time
+of the year. If I was to drop a line to the Nuttonby carrier to-night,
+I'd have a fair show of geraniums, calceolarias, lobelia, an' marguerite
+daisies in the front here by to-morrow evenin'."</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite was not one to check enthusiasm. Moreover, the notion of
+brightening the surroundings appealed to him.</p>
+
+<p>"That would be sharp work," he said, eyeing the jungle.</p>
+
+<p>Smith, with the suspiciousness of an old man eager to show that he was
+as good as some of the young ones, misunderstood that critical survey.</p>
+
+<p>"Before Tom Bland brings the plants from the nursery I'll have a canny
+bit o' soil ready for 'em," he vowed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of it," said Armathwaite, quickly alive to the aged gardener's
+repudiation of any doubt cast on his powers. "But surely you can be
+better employed than in mere digging. Are there laborers to be hired in
+the village?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith swept the bare meadow-land with the appraising eyes of knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty of 'em, sir. The hay is in, an' they'll be slack enough now for
+another month."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Send your order to Bland, including such implements as you
+may need. Hire three or four men, and get them busy. By the way, have
+you heard that Miss Meg is here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Meg! Our Miss Meg?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith's astonishment was not feigned. He was slightly dazzled already by
+the way in which his new employer had received suggestions for the
+regeneration of the garden; now, he was thoroughly bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Armathwaite, watching him narrowly. "She may join us any
+minute. Of course, if she expresses any preference for a particular
+method of laying out the flower-beds, you will adopt it without
+question."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sir," said the old man simply, "if it's the same Miss Meg as I
+hev' in mind I'll not charge you a penny for what little I can do about
+the place. It'll be enough for me to see her bonnie face again an' hear
+her voice."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell her that," laughed Armathwaite. "But we don't trade on those
+terms. You were happy here, I suppose, before Mr. Garth died?"</p>
+
+<p>"No man could ha' worked for nicer people, sir. It bruk me all to pieces
+when t' maister tellt me to go. An' I never rightly understood it,
+until&mdash;until the sad thing happened you'll hev' heerd of. Mr. Garth was
+just as much cut up about me goin' as I was meself&mdash;that was the queer
+part of it.... Sir, tell me this, D'you mean to live here any length o'
+time?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's a bold thing to say, afore I've known ye five minnits, so to
+speak, an' there may be nowt in it other than owd wives' blether, but,
+if you ain't such a great lover o' stained glass, I advise ye to hev'
+yon staircase window riven out by t' roots."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, why in the world do you say that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't put it into plain words, sir, an' that's a fact, but I'd be
+glad to see the house shut o' that grinnin' death's head. I well
+remember my own father tellin' me there was a curse in it, an' many's
+the time Mr. Garth laughed at me when I spoke on't. But t' owd man's
+prophecy kem yam (came home) to roost at last. It did, an' all."</p>
+
+<p>"What reason did your father give for his belief?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a strange story, sir, but I know bits of it are true, so mebbe the
+rest isn't so far out. D'you see yon farm?" and Begonia Smith pointed to
+the Burt homestead.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Armathwaite. "I met Mr. Burt yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"It's built on the ruins o' Holand Castle, sir. It's barely ten years
+ago since Mr. Burt used the last o' t' stones for his new barn. These
+Holands were descended from a lady who married Edward, the Black Prince.
+She had three sons by her first husband, an' one of 'em kem to this part
+o' Yorksheer. As was the way in them days, he set a church alongside his
+castle, and was that proud of his step-father, who would ha' bin King of
+England had he lived, that he had that painted glass window med in his
+memory. In later times, when there was a cry about images, the owner of
+Holand Castle had the window taken out an' hidden. Then, to please
+somebody or another, he set fire to t' church. After that, things went
+badly with him, an' the castle was deserted, because it had the plague,
+though I'm thinking the only plague was bad drainage. Anyhow, nigh on
+two hundred year ago, a man named Faulkner settled i' this quiet
+spot&mdash;you can guess what it was like, sir, when there was no railways,
+an' the nearest main road ran through Leyburn on t' other side o' t'
+moor. This Faulkner had gathered his brass in no good way, robbin' ships
+an' killin' folk on the high seas, it was said. He used to import
+hogsheads o' wine all the way from Whitby, an' rare good wood was in
+'em, because I saw the last of 'em used as a rain barrel, an' I'm not
+seventy yet. The story goes that one night, in his cups, he was annoyed
+by the way the Black Prince looked at him, hard an' condemning like a
+judge. He got a pair o' big pistols, an' fired one at the Prince's face.
+He shot the eyes out, an' then aimed the second one at the mouth, but
+that burst, and blew his own right hand off, an' he bled to death afore
+they could plug the veins. His son, who was a chip o' t' owd block,
+hired a drunken artist to paint another face. This man knew nowt about
+stained glass, but he was a rare hand at drawin' terrible things, so he
+planned yon devil's phiz on oiled paper, an' stuck it between two thin
+plates o' glass, an' it was leaded in. If you was to climb on a ladder
+you'd find the difference at once between that part o' t' window an' all
+t' remainder. Many's the time I've seen it when nailin' up the wistaria,
+an', if I'd dared, would have put the hammer-head through it. But Mr.
+Garth refused to have it touched. He called it an antiquarian
+curiosity. All the same, he wouldn't have Miss Meg told about it,
+because it might have frightened her but he was always careful to see
+that the blind was not drawn across the front door on June evenings.
+Mebbe, you'll have heerd of a ghost, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>A window was raised, and both men looked up. Marguérite was leaning out,
+her face aglow with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, if it isn't my own dear Smith!" she cried. "What lucky wind
+brought <i>you</i> here? Mr. Armathwaite, is this <i>your</i> doing? Smith, I'll
+be down in a jiffy. Mind you don't skedaddle before I come!"</p>
+
+<p>Thus it befell that when Betty Jackson brought an early breakfast to
+Percy Whittaker, and she was asked where Miss Meg was, she answered:</p>
+
+<p>"Out in the garden with Mr. Armathwaite. They're talkin' to Begonia
+Smith."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I heard the voices. And who, pray, is Begonia Smith?" demanded
+Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"The old gardener," said Betty. "He was here years an' years."</p>
+
+<p>"Does Mr. Armathwaite mean to have the grounds attended to?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looks like it, sir. He an' Miss Meg are measurin' bits, an' Smith's
+stickin' in pieces of wood. It'll be nice to have the place kept spick
+an' span again."</p>
+
+<p>It was, perhaps, unfortunate that Meg's glimpse of her friend from the
+bedroom window should have brought her downstairs pell-mell without even
+a tap on Whittaker's door to inquire as to his well-being. It was
+perhaps, equally unfortunate that, when she remembered her remissness,
+she should have hurried to his room while her cheeks were flushed with
+the strong moorland air and her eyes shining with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you, Percy dear?" she said, entering in response to his surly
+"Come in!" "I ought to have looked in on you sooner, but I could hardly
+believe my eyes when I saw Mr. Armathwaite in the garden with Smith, our
+own old gardener, whom I've known ever since I was a baby."</p>
+
+<p>"Why has Armathwaite brought Smith here?" said Whittaker, peering at her
+fixedly, yet veiling those gray-green eyes under lowered lids.</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't. Smith just came. But isn't it fortunate? He couldn't have
+found a better man, especially as Smith won't have any of the hard work
+on his hands. Mr. Armathwaite is giving him all the help he needs."</p>
+
+<p>"To put the place in order?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course. Smith promises marvels by to-morrow evening. But you
+haven't told me yet how your poor ankle feels."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind my poor ankle, Meg. I understood that the house was only let
+for three months?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, much longer, I believe. Mr. Armathwaite&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Confound Mr. Armathwaite! The devil fly away with Mr. Armathwaite! I'm
+sick of his name: I spit on him!" He literally writhed in a paroxysm of
+anger.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy!"</p>
+
+<p>He had chosen an unhappy word when he spoke of spitting on his rival. He
+reminded her of a toad, and she hated toads.</p>
+
+<p>With a desperate effort he sat bolt upright in the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's high time you and I had a few straight words, Meg," he said, and
+his voice lost its drawl, and the blasé manner was dropped. "You haven't
+forgotten, I suppose, that I've asked you to marry me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Perhaps, if you rack your memory, you'll remember my answer," she
+said indignantly, for she felt the innuendo, and was resolved to resent
+it with vigor.</p>
+
+<p>"No, oh, no! You said you didn't mean to marry anybody. That is a
+maidenly sentiment which is right and proper, and I agreed with it at
+the time. But the position has altered considerably during the past
+couple of days. As matters stand now, Meg, you may change your mind,
+and I beg to inform you that when you do marry, you'll marry me."</p>
+
+<p>"It is hardly fair to take advantage of your accident," she said, with a
+quiet scorn that only served to infuriate him the more.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" he said thickly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not usually so dense. If you were not ill you would never dare
+speak to me in that fashion."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind my illness. That will soon pass. And the density you
+complain of is not so one-sided as you imagine. I pointed out that the
+position had changed. Two days ago you were free to say 'Yes' or 'No' to
+my proposal. To-day you are not. You've got to marry me now, Meg. You'll
+be my wife by fair means or foul. Need I explain myself further?"</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it would be as well."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. You've asked for it, and you'll get it. Unless I have your
+promise here and now that our marriage will take place as soon as I can
+stand on my feet again, I'll have your father arrested for murder."</p>
+
+<p>"Percy, you must be mad even to think of such a dreadful thing!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not mad, but sane, very sane and wide-eyed. That fellow,
+Armathwaite, wants you, and he'll snap you up while I'm lying in this
+infernal house unless I strike now, and strike hard. I mean exactly what
+I say. I've thought it all out here, though I'm suffering pain enough
+to drive me crazy. But the mind can conquer the body, and my mind is not
+only clear, but fixed. Tell me you'll marry me, and I'll be patient as a
+saint. I'll take your word for it. I don't want you to sit by my side
+and hold my hand, as some sniveling fools would wish. You can plan your
+gardens with Armathwaite, and smile at him and talk with him as much as
+you please. But you've got to be my wife. Refuse, and the only way you
+can save your father from arrest is by getting Armathwaite to commit
+another murder."</p>
+
+<p>"You brute!" she almost whispered. Her lips were quivering pitifully,
+but the fount of tears was dried, and her eyes blazed with an intensity
+that conquered Whittaker for the moment.</p>
+
+<p>He lay back on the pillows again, with a smile that was twisted into a
+rictus of agony as a twinge wrung the injured limb.</p>
+
+<p>"Call me any hard names you like," he muttered, closing his eyes under
+the intolerable contempt and loathing of Marguérite's steadfast
+scrutiny. "I've said what I had to say, and I'll not depart from a
+syllable of it. You'd have married me one of these days if you hadn't
+met Armathwaite. He has turned your pretty little head with his
+knight-errant airs and cavalry officer appearance. So I've determined
+to pull you back by force&mdash;see? You'll get over it in time. You and I
+will be as good chums as ever when this gale has blown itself out. Don't
+think I shall hold you less dear because your father placed himself in
+danger of the law. He escaped neatly before, and can escape again. I'll
+even tell you how. No one here knows&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He opened his eyes again, to ascertain if some dawning interest in the
+project he was about to reveal&mdash;which was precisely that already set
+forth by Armathwaite&mdash;had driven the horror from her drawn features; but
+Marguérite had vanished. He listened for her footsteps, and could hear
+no sound. He shouted loudly, and tugged frenziedly at a bell. Betty came
+running, thinking he had fallen out of bed, and needed assistance.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, whatever is the matter?" she cried, with true Yorkshire
+abruptness, when she found him lying as she had left him a few minutes
+earlier.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Miss Meg?" he raged. "Tell her she must come here&mdash;at once!
+Tell her that! Use those very words&mdash;come at once!"</p>
+
+<p>"My! What a to-do about nowt! I was sure the house was on fire!"</p>
+
+<p>"Confound you, will you go!" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll go! For goodness' sake, keep quiet. You're doing yourself no
+good by gettin' that excited. Oh, you needn't bawl at me! I'll find
+her. It isn't such a big place that she can be lost for more'n a minnit
+or two."</p>
+
+<p>Grumbling audibly at the funny ways some folk had, to be sure, Betty
+went downstairs. She looked into the drawing-room, dining-room, and
+library, but Marguérite was in none of those places. Then she passed out
+into the garden; through the open window Whittaker could hear her asking
+Armathwaite if he knew where Miss Meg was. He caught the answer, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She left me to visit Mr. Whittaker."</p>
+
+<p>"She's not there, sir, and he has just sent me for her in an awful
+hurry," said Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it anything I can do for him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. He wants Miss Meg."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she can't be far away. She may be in her bedroom. Go and look
+there. If I see her, I'll hand on your message."</p>
+
+<p>Soon, when Betty had ransacked the house, she came to the conclusion
+that Marguérite had gone into the village. For some reason, on hearing
+this, Whittaker appeared to be calmer, and only growled an order that he
+was to be informed instantly of Miss Garth's return. Betty retreated to
+the kitchen. When the door was safely closed she said to her mother:</p>
+
+<p>"That Percy Whittaker is daft, an' it's easy to see what ails him. If I
+was Miss Meg I wouldn't have him if he was hung with diamonds."</p>
+
+<p>"You're nobbut a fond lass," commented Mrs. Jackson, cracking an egg on
+the side of a basin preparatory to emptying its contents into a
+frying-pan. "Always thinkin' of young men, like the rest of 'em. Poor
+Meg Garth has other things to bother her. If you hadn't lost a good
+father when you were too little to ken owt about it, you'd know what
+she's goin' through now."</p>
+
+<p>"But she says her father is livin'," said Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me summat fresh," retorted her mother. "Wouldn't it be better for
+her if he wasn't? You mark my words. There'll be a bonny row i' this
+house afore we're much older. Now, hurry up with t' toast. No matter
+what else happens, folk mun eat."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>DEUS EX MACHINA</h3>
+
+
+<p>After a while, Betty came to Armathwaite again.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, sir, breakfast is ready. Shall I bring it in, or will
+you wait for Miss Meg?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>That a second inquiry as to Marguérite's whereabouts should be necessary
+seemed to surprise him.</p>
+
+<p>"You were looking for Miss Garth a few minutes ago. Didn't you find
+her?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. She's not in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"But what can have become of her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought, sir, she might ha' gone into t' village."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"She knows everybody i' t' place. She said last night that now she was
+makin' a bit of a stay she'd be seein' some o' t' folk."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I should have noticed her if she had gone out by the gate," he
+said, weighing the point. "Smith!" he called, "has Miss Meg left the
+house recently&mdash;within the past ten minutes, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I know of, sir," said Smith; "but I'm that worritted by the
+state of some o' these here beds that ammost owt (almost anything) might
+ha' happened without me givin' it heed."</p>
+
+<p>"Bang that gong at the front door," said Armathwaite to Betty. "It
+should be heard in every house in Elmdale, and she will understand."</p>
+
+<p>The gong was duly banged, and its effect on Elmdale was immediately
+perceptible. Old Mrs. Bolland vowed afterwards that she would sit
+permanently at the back bedroom window, because, being rheumaticky, she
+couldn't get upstairs quickly enough, and there was summat to see
+nowadays at t' Grange.</p>
+
+<p>But the tocsin failed to reach the one ear for which it was intended.
+The village produced every live inhabitant except Marguérite Ogilvey.</p>
+
+<p>"Was Miss Meg friendly with the Burts?" inquired Armathwaite, when he
+and Betty realized it was useless to gaze expectantly either at the
+corner of the roadway visible from the porch, or at such small
+cross-sections of the village "street" as could be seen at irregular
+intervals between the houses.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. She'd often walk over there," said the girl, gazing at once
+in the direction of the Castle Farm, which was the name of the holding.</p>
+
+<p>"She would know that breakfast was on the way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir! I axed her meself when I brought her a cup of tea. She
+said that nine o'clock would suit."</p>
+
+<p>Betty turned involuntarily to consult the grandfather's clock in the
+hall. The hands stood at ten minutes past nine; but, in the same moment,
+she remembered that the clock was not going. Armathwaite followed her
+glance, and looked at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Ten minutes past nine," he answered, with a laugh. "The old clock is
+right to a tick. Was it in use while the Sheffield lady remained in the
+house?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. It stopped at that time when the old man died."</p>
+
+<p>Then she giggled. There is hardly a man or woman in Yorkshire who does
+not know that the words of a famous song were suggested by the behavior
+of a clock which is still exhibited in an inn on the south side of the
+Tees at Pierce Bridge, and the girl had unconsciously repeated the tag
+of verses and chorus.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite had yet to learn of this treasured possession of the county
+of broad acres, so he eyed Betty rather disapprovingly. Moved by an
+impulse which he regarded as nothing more than a desire to check such
+undue levity, he strode into the hall, found a key resting on a ledge
+of the clock's canopy, wound up the heavy weights, and started the
+pendulum.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps our ancient friend may be more accurate than you, Betty," he
+said. "You mean, I suppose, that it stopped at that time because it was
+not wound. How do <i>you</i> know the hour, or even the day, anyone died
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't, sir, an' that's a fact," she admitted. "But what about
+breakfast?"</p>
+
+<p>"Attend to Mr. Whittaker&mdash;I'll wait!"</p>
+
+<p>He went out again, and saw Smith hobbling down the bye-road.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi!" he cried, "if you're going into the village you might ask if
+anyone has seen Miss Meg!"</p>
+
+<p>Smith replied with a hand wave. He was thinking mainly of begonias,
+planning a magician's stroke, because his new master had told him to
+spare no expense. Within ten minutes he returned, but not alone. Four
+able-bodied rustics came with him, each carrying a spade or a garden
+fork. But he had not forgotten Armathwaite's request.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Meg hasn't gone that way, sir," he said. "Plenty of folk saw her
+in t' garden, an' they couldn't ha' missed her had she been in t'
+street. But she'll be comin' i' now. No fear o' her bein' lost, stolen,
+or strayed i' Elmdale. These chaps are good for a day's diggin' at four
+shillin' an' two quarts o' beer each. Is that right, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Make it five shillings and no beer," said Armathwaite.</p>
+
+<p>The laborers grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"No beer is even to be bought during working hours," he added sharply.
+"You can work harder and longer on tea. You may have all the tea, milk,
+bread and cheese you want, but not a drop of beer, this day or any other
+day, while at work here. I know what I am talking about. I am no
+teetotal fanatic, but I've proved the truth of that statement during
+many a day of more trying labor than digging soft earth."</p>
+
+<p>The terms were agreed to without a murmur. The incident, slight as it
+was, had its bearing on the day's history. Smith was leading his cohort
+to the attack, when one of the men, apparently bethinking himself,
+approached Armathwaite and touched his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but was ye axin' about Miss Meg?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I seed her goin' up t' moor road nigh on half an hour sen"
+(since).</p>
+
+<p>The Grange itself was the only house on the moor road for many a mile,
+and it was most unlikely that Marguérite would take a protracted stroll
+in that direction at such an hour. Somehow, Armathwaite was aware of a
+chill in the air which he had not felt earlier. It was his habit to
+disregard those strange glimpses of coming events, generally of
+misfortune, which men call premonitions. When confronted by accomplished
+facts, he acted as honor and experience dictated; for the rest, he said,
+with Milton&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i11">"I argue not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of heart and hope; but still bear up and steer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Right onward."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But this all-sufficing rule of conduct had availed him little from the
+moment he crossed the threshold of the Grange. Right well had it served
+him in the strenuous years of vigilant governance now so remote; since
+his coming to Elmdale he seemed ever to be striving against shapeless
+phantoms. He had sought quiet and content in that peaceful-looking
+village; he had found only care and gnawing foreboding, brightened, it
+is true, by a day-dream, which itself left bitter communing when it
+waned. For he was his own severest censor. He regarded himself as one
+already in the sere and yellow leaf. Fortune had called him to the high
+places only to cast him forth discredited, if not humbled. That he, a
+man who believed he had done with the great world, should think of
+allying his shattered life with the sweet and winsome creature whose
+feminine charm was enhanced by a frank girlishness, was a tantalizing
+prospect which, like the mirage in a desert, merged with the arid wastes
+when subjected to close scrutiny. With Marguérite near, reason fled, and
+all things seemed possible; when the thrall of her presence was
+withdrawn, cold judgment warned him that gratitude for help rendered
+should not be mistaken for love.</p>
+
+<p>He felt now that another crisis had arisen, yet the past yielded no ray
+of guidance. He glared at the poor laborer who, all unconsciously, was
+fate's herald in this new adversity, for he was instantly aware, without
+other spoken word, that Marguérite Ogilvey had fled. The man's troubled
+face showed that he feared he had done wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm main sorry, sir," said he, "if I've said owt te vex ye, but,
+hearin' the talk of Miss Meg, I thought&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite's drawn features relaxed, and he placed a friendly hand on
+the villager's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You've done right," he said. "I am very much obliged to you. I have a
+stupid habit of allowing my mind to wander. Just then I was thinking of
+something wholly unconnected with Miss Garth's disappearance, which will
+arouse Mrs. Jackson's wrath because of bacon and eggs frizzled to a
+cinder. I must go and condole with her."</p>
+
+<p>He was turning to re-enter the house, mainly to set at rest any
+suspicion that Marguérite's absence arose from other cause than sheer
+forgetfulness, when the clang of the gate stayed him. A youth had
+dismounted from a bicycle, and was hastening up the path with an air of
+brisk importance.</p>
+
+<p>"Telegrams for Garth and Whittaker," he said. "Any answer, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite took the two buff envelopes which the lad produced from a
+leather pouch.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you come from Bellerby?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, wait a few minutes. There may be some reply."</p>
+
+<p>He went into the dining-room. So sure was he that Marguérite had gone
+away that he had not the slightest hesitation about opening the telegram
+addressed to "Garth, The Grange, Elmdale." As he anticipated, it was
+from Mrs. Ogilvey. It had been dispatched at seven o'clock from
+Tavistock, and read:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Arriving to-night if possible. Don't take any action until I am
+with you.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mother.</span>"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>The early hour at which it had been sent off&mdash;from a town, too, which
+he rightly estimated as a good many miles distant from Warleggan, showed
+that Mrs. Suarez had contrived to get a telegram through to Cornwall the
+previous night, so Percy Whittaker's mischievous interference had proved
+quite successful.</p>
+
+<p>Then, with lightning clarity came the belief that Percy Whittaker was
+responsible for Marguérite's flight. Armathwaite scouted the notion that
+she had such a thing in her mind when she came to him in the garden. Her
+nature was incapable of guile. Had she formed some fantastic scheme
+during the watches of the night she would never have put her troubles
+aside to share in his light-hearted planning of a new and glorified
+garden. In fact, he recalled her sudden dismay because of her seeming
+neglect of the invalid, and now he knew that he had not seen her since
+she went upstairs, whereas Whittaker himself had sent more than one
+urgent summons for her subsequently.</p>
+
+<p>Stifling his fury as best he might, Armathwaite hurried to Whittaker's
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"A telegram has just come for you," he said, and watched the younger
+man's face as he read. It was a long screed, and evidently bored its
+recipient.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's only from my sister," came the languid explanation. "By the
+way, where's Miss Garth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone, I think."</p>
+
+<p>"Gone!" Whittaker rose on an elbow and glowered at Armathwaite. "What
+the devil do you mean by 'gone'? Where has she gone to?" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to answer that question," and Armathwaite's voice was
+strangely harsh and threatening. "She came to you half an hour ago. Did
+you say anything likely to distress her? Tell me the truth, or I'll
+pound your face to a jelly."</p>
+
+<p>His aspect had suddenly become so menacing that Whittaker wilted; his
+head sank back to the pillow, and his eyelids twitched with fright.</p>
+
+<p>"That's no way to talk&mdash;&mdash;" he began, but the other seized him by the
+shoulder with his left hand and clenched his right fist suggestively.</p>
+
+<p>"You think I ought not to threaten you with violence because you are
+lying there helpless," was the savage interruption; "but, if you have
+not forgotten the ways of Ind, you must know that a poisonous snake is
+never so venomous as when disabled. Speak, now, and speak truthfully,
+or, as sure as God is in heaven, I'll strike!"</p>
+
+<p>There was no withstanding the set purpose revealed by those blazing
+eyes, and Whittaker was so alarmed that he dared not attempt to lie.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I've asked Meg&mdash;half a dozen times&mdash;to marry me," he stuttered, "and
+this morning&mdash;I told her&mdash;she'd have to consent&mdash;now."</p>
+
+<p>"Why now?" and the fierce grip tightened, drawing the livid face nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"Because&mdash;she must."</p>
+
+<p>"Explain yourself, you dog!"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I was afraid of your influence, so I warned her&mdash;that if&mdash;she wanted
+to save her father.... Ah! Let go! Curse you, let go! You're breaking my
+bones!"</p>
+
+<p>That eldritch scream restored Armathwaite's senses. It startled the men
+in the garden. It brought Mrs. Jackson and Betty running from the
+kitchen. Happily, Armathwaite struck no blow. He flung off Whittaker's
+limp body as though he were, indeed, one of the vicious reptiles to
+which he had compared him.</p>
+
+<p>"You <i>sug</i>!" he breathed, using the bitterest term of contempt known to
+the East, for the Persian word means all that the Anglo-Saxon implies
+when he likens a fellow-creature to a dog, with the added force of an
+epithet which signifies "dog" in that despicable sense, and in none
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Striding down the stairs, his fire-laden glance met the ghastly smile of
+the painted figure. With an active bound, he was on the window ledge,
+and the clenched fist which had ached to scatter some of the hapless
+Percy's features fell heavily on the scowling face in the window. The
+glass, which proved exceedingly thin and brittle, shivered into
+countless fragments within and without, and the inner sheet of
+transparent paper was so dry and tense that it shriveled instantly when
+exposed to the air. Indeed, Armathwaite, despite his rage, was aware of
+a peculiar sensation. It seemed as though he had struck at something
+impalpable as air. His hand was not cut. It appeared to have touched
+nothing. He thrust straight and hard, and the only evidence of his
+destroying zeal was a quantity of powdered glass on the landing, some
+curled wisps of paper adhering to the leaden frame, and an oval of blue
+sky shining through the visor.</p>
+
+<p>As he leaped to the floor again, Mrs. Jackson reached the center of the
+hall. She screeched frantically, thinking that the Black Prince himself
+was springing from the window. But she was a stout-hearted old woman,
+and quickly recovered her wits when she saw what Armathwaite had done.</p>
+
+<p>"They've long wanted a man i' this house!" she cried, in a voice that
+cracked with excitement, "and it's glad I am te see they've gotten yan
+at last! Eh, sir, ye med me jump! Ye did an' all! But ye'll never rue
+t' day when ye punched a hole in t' fëace o' that image of Owd Nick!"</p>
+
+<p>By this time Smith and his helpers, aware that something unusual was
+going on inside the house, were gathered at the front door, which had
+remained wide open since the early morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, all of you!" said Armathwaite, addressing the two women and
+five men as though they were an army and he their emperor. "I am master
+here, and I expect you to obey my orders. I am going out now, and I may
+be away some hours, possibly all day. You, Smith, must put a padlock and
+chain on the gate and refuse to open it for anyone except Dr. Scaife and
+a nurse. You, Mrs. Jackson, must keep the doors locked while I am gone,
+and let no one enter, excepting, as I have told Smith, Dr. Scaife and
+the nurse who will accompany him. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And you, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Betty, put some thin slices of bread and meat between two small plates,
+and tie them in a napkin. Fill a bottle with milk. Quick! I have no time
+to lose."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the gaping boy who had brought the telegrams from
+Bellerby.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ride here on your own bicycle?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a strong machine?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Lend it to me for the day, and I'll give you a sovereign."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are, sir!" came the hearty response. "Is there anything to go
+back to the post office?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. Raise the saddle of your bicycle, and see that the tires are
+in good order. Here's your money."</p>
+
+<p>In an incredibly short time Armathwaite was pushing the bicycle up the
+steep road to the moor. He walked with long, swinging strides, and was
+soon lost to sight, because the trees behind the Grange hid the highway
+from any part of the house or grounds, and no one dared risk his wrath
+by going out into the road to watch him.</p>
+
+<p>He climbed swiftly yet steadily, and conquered the worst part of the
+hill in fifteen minutes. Then he mounted the bicycle, and got over the
+ground rapidly. Thus, within less than an hour after Marguérite Ogilvey
+had escaped from the Grange&mdash;in the first instance by taking refuge in
+her bedroom, and, while Betty was talking to Whittaker, by slipping
+downstairs and climbing through a window in the library&mdash;Armathwaite
+saw her&mdash;a lonely figure in that far-flung moorland, walking in the
+direction of Leyburn.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently, she had grabbed her hat and mackintosh coat when passing
+through the hall, and was carrying them, because the sun was glinting in
+her coils of brown hair. No stranger who met her would take her for
+other than a summer visitor. Certainly, no one would guess the storm of
+grief and terror that raged in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>The bicycle sped along with a silent speed that soon lessened the
+distance between the two. Armathwaite did not wish to startle her by a
+too sudden appearance, so he rang the bell when yet fifty yards in the
+rear.</p>
+
+<p>She turned instantly. When she saw who the pursuer was, she stopped.
+Neither spoke until Armathwaite had alighted, and the two had exchanged
+a long and questioning look.</p>
+
+<p>Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to my father. My place is with him. He must be hidden
+somewhere. I dare not wait until my mother came or wrote. I'm sorry,
+Bob. I could not even explain, though I should have telegraphed from
+York. Please don't ask me to say any more, or try to detain me."</p>
+
+<p>"Any explanation is unnecessary," he said, smiling gravely into the
+sweet face with its aspect of unutterable pain. "I squeezed the facts
+out of Percy Whittaker. I'm afraid I hurt him, but that is immaterial."</p>
+
+<p>"You made him tell you what he said to me?" and the brown eyes
+momentarily lost their wistfulness in a whirl of surprise and maidenly
+dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything&mdash;even his threat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Bob! What am I to do? I must go to dad!"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly; but I don't see why you should walk fourteen miles
+practically without food. I've brought some breakfast&mdash;of a sort. We'll
+go shares&mdash;half the sandwiches and half the milk. Then you'll ride on
+the step of the bike when the road permits, and trudge the remainder,
+and we'll be in Leyburn in half the time it would take you to walk. Here
+are the eatables, and this is just the place for a picnic."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke and behaved in such a matter-of-fact way that he almost
+persuaded the bewildered girl that her conduct, and his, and Percy
+Whittaker's was ruled and regulated by every-day conditions. Placing the
+bicycle by the roadside, he produced the package prepared by Betty, and
+was uncorking the milk when a strangled sob caught his ear.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite had turned to hide her face, for a rush of emotion had proved
+too much for her self-control. Laying the bottle on a bank of turf, he
+caught the girl's shoulder, and turned her gently until her swimming
+eyes met his.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing to be gained by hailing trouble half way, Meg," he
+said. "I don't wish to hide my belief that you are faced with conditions
+of a most extraordinary nature, but I am convinced that they will shape
+themselves differently to any forecast we can arrive at now. I followed
+you for two reasons. I wanted you to begin a long journey better
+prepared than was possible after flight on a moment's notice, and I did
+not want you to go away thinking I was in ignorance of your motives. I
+can tell you here and now that you will save your father, if his
+position is such that he needs safe-guarding; further, you will never be
+compelled to marry Percy Whittaker."</p>
+
+<p>"Bob," she whispered brokenly. "I would rather die!"</p>
+
+<p>Then Armathwaite flung restraint to the winds. He gathered her in his
+arms, and lifted the tear-stained face to his.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweetheart," he said, "in the midst of such madness, let you and me be
+sane. I love you! You are the only woman I have ever loved. If I am
+allowed by Providence to begin life once more, you are the only woman I
+shall ever love. You were brought to me by a kindly fate, and I refuse
+to let you go now without telling you that you carry my heart with you.
+I ask for no answer at this moment. Some day in the future, when the
+clouds have lifted from your young life, I'll come to you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But Marguérite gave him her answer then. Lifting herself on tip-toe, she
+kissed him on the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob," she said tremulously, "I think I knew you were my chosen mate, if
+God willed it, when we parted on that first night in the Grange."</p>
+
+<p>That first night! It was hardly thirty-six hours ago, yet these two had
+crowded into that brief space more tribulation than many lovers undergo
+in a lifetime; and sorrow knits hearts more closely and lastingly than
+joy.</p>
+
+<p>Armathwaite could hardly credit the evidence of his senses. He had come
+to regard himself as so immeasurably older than this delightful girl
+that it seemed wildly improbable that she could return the almost
+hopeless love which had sprung into sudden and fierce activity in his
+breast. Yet, here she was, lying snug in his embrace, and gazing up at
+him with glistening eyes, her lips distended, her arms clasping him, her
+heart beating tumultuously in the first transports of passion.</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her again and again, and could have held her there seemingly
+forever; but they were driven apart by a curious humming sound which
+bore a singular resemblance to the purr of a powerful automobile
+climbing a steep hill.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite disengaged herself from her lover's embrace with a flushing
+self-consciousness that was, in itself, vastly attractive.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob," she murmured, stooping to pick up a fallen hat and mackintosh,
+"miracles are happening. Here are you and I forgetting a world in which
+evil things find a place, and here is a motor-car crossing Elmdale moor
+for the first time in history."</p>
+
+<p>"It would not surprise me in the least if the visitant proved to be a
+flying-machine," he laughed, finding it hard to withdraw his ardent gaze
+from those flushed cheeks and that tangled mass of brown hair.</p>
+
+<p>But the insistent drumming of an engine grew ever louder, and soon a
+long, low-built touring car swept into view over the last undulation.
+Apparently, it was untenanted save by a chauffeur, and Armathwaite's
+brain, recovering its balance after a whirl of delirium, was beginning
+to guess at a possible explanation of this strange occurrence, when the
+car slowed as it neared them, and finally halted.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Mr. Armathwaite, sir?" inquired the chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>The man lifted his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the car you ordered from York last night, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"How thoughtful of you to follow!" cried Armathwaite, overjoyed by this
+quite unexpected bit of good fortune. He had not only forgotten that the
+car was on order&mdash;an impulse of the moment when he realized how tied he
+and all others were to the house if anything in the nature of a sudden
+and rapid journey came on the <i>tapis</i>&mdash;but, in any event, he had not
+looked for its arrival before mid-day, and the hour was yet barely ten
+o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>"Your servants thought you might need me, sir," explained the man, "so I
+came after you. It's a scorcher of a road for the first mile, but the
+rest isn't so bad, if it keeps in the same condition."</p>
+
+<p>Now, what had actually happened was this. The chauffeur had reached the
+Grange about twenty minutes after Armathwaite's departure. At that
+moment Smith was chaining and padlocking the gate, but Betty heard the
+snorting of the car, and came to find out its cause.</p>
+
+<p>When the chauffeur told her that he was there in response to an order,
+the quick-witted girl told him to hurry up the moor road. He looked at
+it, and grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"What! Take a valuable machine over a track like that! Not me!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't it go there?" she inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"It can go anywhere, for that matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you afraid, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid of what? D'ye think I want to twist an axle or smash a wheel?"</p>
+
+<p>Then one of the laboring men joined in.</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon you don't know t' maister," he said. "He wouldn't care a pin
+if you smashed yourself, but you've got to obey orders. He's one of the
+sort who has his own way. Good pay, no beer, an' hard work is <i>his</i>
+motter. It is, an' all."</p>
+
+<p>Between maid and man, the chauffeur decided to risk it. When all was
+said and done, it would be a bad beginning in a new job if the servants
+reported his refusal to follow on.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he far ahead?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Mebbe a mile over t' top."</p>
+
+<p>Starting the engine on the switch, he put the car at the hill, and, like
+many another difficulty, it was not insurmountable when tackled boldly.
+So, behold! A comfortable and easy way was opened to Leyburn, at any
+rate, and Armathwaite laughed gayly.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll breakfast, and discuss," said he. "The gods have sent us a
+chariot!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE AREA WIDENS</h3>
+
+
+<p>If any critic, on perusing this chronicle, is moved to peevish
+condemnation of Armathwaite's amazing conduct that morning, the man
+himself would be the last to protest. He might urge that he was dazzled
+by the new and entrancing realm whose bright waters and fair meads he
+could discern beyond the present rough and dangerous ground. He might
+plead the literal truth&mdash;that when he went in pursuit of Marguérite
+Ogilvey he had no more intention of declaring his love than of hastening
+to Dover and endeavoring forthwith to swim the English Channel. But,
+making every allowance for a confirmed celibate who had suddenly become
+a devout lover, and to whose arms the lady of his choice had committed
+herself without any pretense of restraint, it must still be admitted
+that he was guilty of a most singular omission in failing to make known
+to her his very identity!</p>
+
+<p>He remembered the phenomenal lapse when too late. Even to that practical
+side of his character which reproached the emotional side with a
+ridiculous forgetfulness, he could only say, in mitigation of sentence,
+that the sudden appearance of the car brought about such a novel
+situation that all else yielded to the need for prompt and skillful
+judgment in deciding Marguérite's immediate future.</p>
+
+<p>It was all the more difficult to think logically and act decisively when
+Marguérite herself, ever and anon, was lifting adorably shy eyes to his
+while the two were making the best of the unusual meal he had provided.
+There, nevertheless, within a few feet, stood the obedient giant whose
+stout mechanism rendered many things possible that were hitherto
+impossible. The chauffeur, who gave his name as Storr, had taken off the
+bonnet for a critical glance at the six cylinders which had forced
+nearly two tons of metal and wood up the stony and rutted surface of one
+of the worst moorland tracks in Yorkshire. He seemed to be more than
+satisfied. The water in the radiator had got rather excited, but that
+was only to be expected. A close eye was given to other essentials, and
+the tire covers were examined, but every part of the car had withstood
+the strain of a fearsome hill splendidly.</p>
+
+<p>Storr had never doubted, but, like a prudent general, he reviewed his
+forces after the engagement, and found them not only intact, but ready
+for mightier deeds. Then, merely to gratify the sense of touch, as a
+horseman strokes a willing and well-groomed steed, he fingered a tap or
+two, shut off the engine, and asked Armathwaite if he might smoke a
+cigarette while awaiting further orders.</p>
+
+<p>His employer thanked him for the word. It recalled the motive of
+Marguérite's flight. Some plan of action must be arrived at, and without
+delay.</p>
+
+<p>"Smoke, by all means," he said, summing up the man at a glance as a
+bluff and honest sort of follow who would be thoroughly dependable if
+properly handled. "How long did the run from York to Elmdale take?"</p>
+
+<p>"A little more than two hours, sir. I started at half-past seven. Your
+telegram said I was to arrive by noon, but our people thought they'd
+please a new customer by bein' a bit afore time. They didn't wire,
+because the car would be to hand almost as quick as a telegram."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you go from Leyburn to York in two hours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Easily, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Just pull your machine a few yards ahead, and Miss Ogilvey
+and I will discuss the day's program."</p>
+
+<p>Storr obeyed, and Armathwaite outlined to a willing listener the
+project he had already formed.</p>
+
+<p>"First," he said, "here is a telegram from your mother. I opened it. I
+thought it was best&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course, Bob dear; why shouldn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Bob dear! It was very pleasant to hear the phrase on Marguérite's lips,
+yet it rendered doubly distasteful the suggestion he had in mind; since
+where is the lover who will bring himself willingly to the task of
+telling his lady-love that they must part? But it had to be done.
+Marguérite must go&mdash;not quite so far as Cornwall, it is true, but much
+too far to please him, and he must return to the Grange, where, a sure
+instinct warned him, weighty matters would be settled that day.</p>
+
+<p>A cry of dismay from the girl gave him the cue he wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she has started already!" she almost sobbed. "While I was flying to
+Warleggan she is traveling North. We shall pass each other on the way!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "that must not happen. You are going to be a good little
+sweetheart, and do as I tell you. This most excellent and comfortable
+car will take you to York. There you will ascertain from an obliging
+station-master what time Mrs. Ogilvey can arrive from Tavistock,
+assuming she left there at or about the hour stated in the message, and
+you'll meet her. At a rough guess, Mrs. Ogilvey should be in York about
+six o'clock. You'll escort her to the station hotel, give her something
+to eat, and calmly discuss the whole affair while the same luxurious
+automobile is bringing you back to Elmdale."</p>
+
+<p>"But, what of the danger dad may be in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am coming to that. I believe, somehow, that your mother will relieve
+your mind in that respect. Remember, I have always held, since the main
+features of this extraordinary affair became clear, that your father has
+acted throughout with his wife's cognizance, if not with her complete
+approval. Now, if that is so, she is the one person who can decide
+whether you return with her to Elmdale or hasten through the night to
+Warleggan. Again hazarding a guess, I don't think you could reach your
+father to-night, even though you caught the first available train from
+York. Cornwall is a long way from Yorkshire. By starting this minute,
+you might be in York by one o'clock. Allowing eleven hours for the
+journey, an estimate I am doubtful about, you would arrive at Tavistock
+at midnight, whereas it is highly probable there is no such train, nor
+one so rapid. By the way, why, do you think, did Mrs. Ogilvey telegraph
+from Tavistock?"</p>
+
+<p>"She would drive there&mdash;some twelve miles. No telegram could be
+dispatched from Warleggan before the post office opened at eight."</p>
+
+<p>"She may have had an even more powerful reason. The message is sent to
+'Garth,' not to 'Ogilvey.' Isn't it quite rational to suppose that she
+hopes no one in Elmdale knows about the change of name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Meg, trying to look calmly judicial. "That sounds
+reasonable."</p>
+
+<p>"Then every consideration points to the wisdom of awaiting your mother
+at York."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Bob dear, have you thought of the awful result if Percy carries
+out his threat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Percy will not do anything dramatic to-day, I promise you. I have
+scared him badly already, and I'm going back now with the full intent
+that he shall cause no more mischief until I hear from, or see, Mrs.
+Ogilvey and yourself, or one of you. Perhaps, to relieve my anxiety, you
+will send a message from York announcing your decision?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I'll do that. You are really convinced that I ought to meet
+mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can trust me. I'll do as you say. You needn't have any fear
+that between here and York I'll change my mind. Bob, you believe me,
+don't you, when I tell you that I ran away this morning because I dared
+not take you into my confidence? I could not bring myself to explain the
+true meaning of Percy's horrid insinuations."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, forget Percy. I'll deal with him."</p>
+
+<p>"But you won't be too angry with him? It is hard to endure, I know, that
+he should play on his defenseless state, but, if he were quite well and
+uninjured, he could offer you no resistance."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed. The notion of Percy Whittaker and himself engaging in a
+desperate conflict for physical supremacy was intensely amusing.</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean that I am not to assault him, I promise that with all my
+heart," he said. "I gripped him rather strenuously an hour ago, I admit,
+but then I was angry with him. Now I feel that I owe him a deep debt of
+gratitude, because he has brought to pass something which I hardly dared
+dream of. Don't you see, dearest, that if Percy hadn't behaved meanly to
+you I shouldn't now be calling you dearest, and wishing that our
+sharp-eyed chauffeur were anywhere else in the wide world but where he
+is. Now, no more words, but deeds! Off you go to York! What money have
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you call plenty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dad gave me fifteen pounds when I left home, and I've spent less than
+five."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, sweetheart, it is good-by till this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Bob darling, I shall pray that it may be so!"</p>
+
+<p>Storr received his orders without lifting an eyelid, which was highly
+creditable to him, having regard to the peculiar conditions under which
+he had met his employer. Of course, he was ignorant of the state of
+affairs at the Grange. He imagined that Mr. Armathwaite was escorting a
+young lady over the moor to Leyburn, which was a funny way to reach
+York, when Nuttonby lay on a better road, which was also the more direct
+route. But there was nothing unusual in the fact that he should be
+taking Miss Ogilvey to meet her mother, while the car would make light
+of the three journeys.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better have this, sir, and see if it's right," he said, giving
+Armathwaite a note. A glance showed that it dealt with terms for the
+hire of the car.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell your people it is quite satisfactory," said Armathwaite, and,
+after a farewell pressure of Meg's hand, and a look from the brown eyes
+which remained with him like a blessing, the car started. He watched
+until it had vanished over a long undulation of the road, and saw the
+last flutter of Meg's handkerchief ere she crossed the sky-line. Then he
+mounted the bicycle, and rode swiftly back to the tiny hamlet in which,
+during two short days, he had passed through so many and so much varied
+experiences.</p>
+
+<p>Looking down from the crest of the hill at the sunlit panorama of farm
+and field, woodland and furze-grown common, with Elmdale's cluster of
+homesteads nestling close beneath the moor, and the spire of Bellerby
+Church (near which lay the mortal remains of "Stephen Garth") rising
+above a cluster of elms in the middle distance, it seemed to be a
+fantastic and unreal notion that so many of life's evils, so much of its
+beauty and happiness, could have found full scope for their expression
+in that tiny and remote place.</p>
+
+<p>As the hill was too dangerous in parts to ride, he dismounted twice. He
+was about to coast down the last straight slope to the house when a
+thought struck him with such blinding force that he nearly lost control
+of the bicycle. Fool that he was, his first care should have been to
+tell Marguérite that his name was not Armathwaite; that he had adopted
+an incognito simply to avoid the prying eyes and inquisitive tongues of
+those with whom he might be brought in contact; that, in marrying him,
+she was stepping forth from the seclusion of a student's retreat into
+the full glare of public life. Oh, the deuce take all complications and
+worries! He had won Marguérite by extraordinary means&mdash;he must do his
+wooing in more orthodox manner, and in his true colors.</p>
+
+<p>He was traveling at a rate which kept pace with the tornado in his mind,
+but the second nature brought into being by an adventurous career bent a
+watchful eye on the inequalities of the road, so that he was actually
+slowing up somewhat short of the gate leading to the Grange garden when
+he became aware of an unusual concourse of people gathered in the
+roadway. A motor-car and two dog-carts were halted near the gable of
+Mrs. Jackson's cottage, and a number of men&mdash;among them two in police
+uniform&mdash;who seemed to have collected into a chatting group, dissolved
+into units when he approached.</p>
+
+<p>He recognized a groom at a horse's head as Dr. Scaife's man; all the
+others were total strangers.</p>
+
+<p>But not for long.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Berkeley Hutton, brought to Elmdale by a neighborly curiosity
+strengthened by the call of the East, appeared to be overwhelmed with
+surprise at sight of Armathwaite. But the worthy baronet did not lose
+the faculty of speech. No conceivable catastrophe, short of instant
+death, could deprive him of that.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless my soul!" he cried, advancing with outstretched hand.
+"Baluchi Bob! The last man breathing I ever expected to see in Elmdale!
+Did the monsoon break earlier than usual this year, or what wind of
+heaven blew <i>you</i> here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Barker!" cried Armathwaite, hailing him with manifest pleasure.
+"I didn't know you had pitched your tent in these parts!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but, dash it all, Bob, what's the game? They told me someone name
+of Armathwaite, in the Politicals, had taken the Grange."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite true. But you know I came a cropper in India, and I was a bit
+tired of the <i>sturm und drang</i> of existence, so I hied me to cover under
+my mother's maiden name. I suppose I have a sort of right to it, though
+it doesn't seem to have proved altogether successful as a cloak."</p>
+
+<p>"By gad! I can hardly agree with you there. I felt as though I'd come a
+purler over wire when I saw Baluchi Bob dropping off that bicycle. Great
+Scott! You on a bike! How have the mighty fallen! But I'll lend you a
+hack till you collect a few useful screws, unless you're bitten by this
+new craze for rushing about the country in a gastank. And won't Mollie
+be glad to see you! It was only the other day she was talkin' about the
+Pup, and sayin' that if it hadn't been for you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, tell Mollie to forget that old tale, or she'll make me nervous!"</p>
+
+<p>Each word exchanged between the two was heard distinctly by the others,
+and, such is the queer way in which the affairs of life sometimes take
+an unexpected twist, there was a marked and instant change of attitude
+on the part of three men, at least, who had come to Elmdale that day
+prepared to treat the Grange's new tenant as a potential criminal.
+Banks, mouthpiece of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>, who had bicycled thither in
+the hope of securing another batch of readable copy for a special
+Saturday edition, suddenly found himself reviewing, with a sinking
+heart, one or two rather ticklish paragraphs in the screed already
+published anent "The Elmdale mystery." As for the superintendent and
+inspector of police from Nuttonby, they forthwith recanted certain
+opinions formed after hearing Banks's story and reading the current
+issue of his newspaper.</p>
+
+<p>For Sir Berkeley Hutton was a county magnate, chairman of the Nuttonby
+bench, an alderman of the County Council, a Deputy Lieutenant, and
+goodness knows what else of a power in civic and social circles, and
+here was he hailing this stranger as an intimate friend, being himself
+greeted by the nickname earned by a loud and strident utterance which
+never failed, speaking of Lady Hutton as "Mollie," of his eldest son as
+"the Pup." County police and country editors must be chary of accepting
+the evidence of James Walkers and Tom Blands against the guarantee of
+such a man, or they may get their corns trodden on most painfully!</p>
+
+<p>All at once, Sir Berkeley Hutton seemed to recollect the talk which had
+been going on outside the locked and barred gate, for Begonia Smith and
+his henchmen had refused to pass anyone but the doctor and nurse, who
+were with their patient at that moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Bob," he went on, in a thunderous whisper quite as audible as
+his ordinary voice, "I'm devilish glad it's you&mdash;I am, 'pon my
+soul!&mdash;because some of these chaps have been spinnin' the queerest sort
+of yarn, in which a murder, a suicide, a ghost, and a pretty girl are
+mixed up in fine style. Just tell 'em all to go to blazes, will
+you?&mdash;except Dobb. Dobb's a decent fellow, and he acted for the people
+who used to live here&mdash;Hi! Dobb. This is&mdash;&mdash;" Then it dawned on him that
+his friend might wish still to preserve his anonymity save in the sacred
+circle of the elect, so he broke off into "Come along, Dobb! I want you
+to meet one of the best fellows who ever wore shoe-leather!"</p>
+
+<p>Dobb advanced. With him came a gentleman who was as unknown to Nuttonby
+as Armathwaite himself. Before the solicitor could speak, his companion
+said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Robert Dalrymple, I believe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," and Marguérite's "chosen mate" looked him very searchingly and
+squarely in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Morand," said the other. "I am sent here by the India Office
+to tell you&mdash;&mdash;" he glanced around in momentary hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, go on," said Dalrymple, as Armathwaite must be described
+henceforth. "There is nothing that the India Office has to communicate
+which I am not willing that all the world should hear."</p>
+
+<p>"Happily, Sir Robert, this is a communication which all the world ought
+to hear. The Maharajah of Barapur is dead. He was assassinated last
+Monday while driving through the bazaar. His prime minister, Chalwar
+Singh, was with him, and was mortally wounded at the same time."</p>
+
+<p>"Then India is well rid of two pestilent scoundrels," said Dalrymple
+unconcernedly.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the view now held by the Government," was the grave answer.</p>
+
+<p>"A death-bed conversion, of a sort," commented his hearer dryly.</p>
+
+<p>"A death-bed confession, too," said Morand. "It was a fortunate thing
+that both men lived long enough to reveal that they had concocted the
+whole story of the Maharani's pearls in order to get you shelved. Your
+administration was too honest. They played on your well-known
+carelessness in trivial matters of detail, and bribed your native
+secretary, Muncherji, to include in your correspondence the letters
+which seemed to prove your complicity in a serious breach of trust.
+Muncherji, by rare good chance, was not in Barapur when the Maharajah
+and Chalwar Singh were riddled with bullets, so he was arrested before
+he knew of the affair. He, too, has confessed. In fact, I can convey
+everything in a sentence. The Government of India has reinstated you in
+the High Commissionership, and you are gazetted as absent on leave. I am
+the bearer of ample apologies from the India Office, which will be
+tendered to you in person by my chief when he meets you in London.
+Meanwhile, I am to request you to allow the announcement to be made
+public that you will return to India on a named date, while the
+appointment of your deputy is left open for your recommendation."</p>
+
+<p>Dalrymple paled slightly, which was the only evidence he gave of the
+effect such a statement was bound to produce on a proud and ambitious
+nature, but Sir Berkeley Hutton was irrepressible.</p>
+
+<p>"By gad!" he roared, "somebody's gold lace has been rolled in the dust
+of Calcutta before the India Department climbed down like that. I never
+heard anything like it&mdash;never! 'Pon me soul! Won't Mollie be pleased?"</p>
+
+<p>Yet the man to whom the path of empire was again thrown open spoke no
+word. It was good to have his honor cleared of the stain put on it by a
+scheming Indian prince and his henchmen. It was good to find himself
+standing once more in the high place he had won by self-sacrificing work
+and unflinching adherence to an ideal of efficient government. But his
+thoughts were with a sorrow-stricken girl speeding to a sad tryst with a
+mother who might bring tidings that would blight her life for many a
+year.</p>
+
+<p>Morand grew anxious. He shared Dalrymple's knowledge of the tremendous
+issues bound up with an affair of State of real magnitude, and he did
+not want to fail in this, his first confidential mission.</p>
+
+<p>"If there is anything else I can say, Sir Robert&mdash;&mdash;" he began, and his
+voice disrupted a dream.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, Morand," said the other, letting a hand rest on the
+shoulder of the younger man in that characteristic way of his. "I'm not
+such a cur as to snarl when I have been proved right, and my traducers
+are ready to admit their blunder. I didn't yelp when the blow fell. I'm
+not going to kick up a bobbery now when I'm given back my spurs. Tell
+your chief that I'll come to him soon, within a week, if possible. I
+have business on my hands here that calls imperatively for settlement.
+I'll deal first with that; then I'll come. Are you returning to town at
+once?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the first available train. More than that, I am to telegraph your
+decision to Whitehall. Between you and me, some people are in a howling
+funk lest a question should be put in the House."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't the frontier method. Men who appeal to Parliament when
+things go wrong are of no value to India. But I don't want to preach."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll pardon me, I'll hurry back to Nuttonby. That telegram is
+called for urgently. What about your deputy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Collins was transferred to Oudh because he supported me. Send him to
+Barapur. The natives will understand that better than a dozen
+gazettes."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks. That clinches it, Sir Robert. Mr. Dobb, do you mind if we start
+immediately?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb did mind. For one thing, he had not spoken a word to Sir Robert
+Dalrymple yet. For another, Nuttonby loomed larger in his mind than some
+wrangle in far-away Hindustan, and Nuttonby was seething with rumors
+anent present and past inhabitants of the Grange.</p>
+
+<p>"We, like the State of Barapur, have our little troubles," he said
+guardedly. "Sir Robert has shown already that he appreciates their
+gravity. My car will take you to Nuttonby, Mr. Morand, and come back for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>The representative of the India Office was only too pleased to get away
+on any terms. He knew that a reassuring message was wanted in Whitehall.
+There were wheels within wheels. A question <i>was</i> put in the House that
+night, and an Under-Secretary scoffed at the notion that Sir Robert
+Dalrymple, "a trusted servant of his country, whose splendid work on the
+Indus was most thoroughly appreciated by the Government of India," had
+been requested to resign. As a matter of public interest, he was pleased
+to inform the honorable questioner that Sir Robert Dalrymple, only that
+day, had put forward the name of Mr. Mortimer Collins, I.C.S., to act
+as his deputy in Barapur until he returned from short leave granted on
+"urgent private affairs."</p>
+
+<p>The motor was already trumpeting its way through a mob of Elmdale
+urchins, who seldom saw a car, and had never before seen two in one day,
+when Dalrymple found himself regretting he had not inquired how Morand
+contrived to get on his track so easily. Some weeks elapsed before he
+learned that the only friend in London who knew his whereabouts thought
+it a duty to speak when the hue and cry went forth from the India
+Office.</p>
+
+<p>Dalrymple was with his friend, a retired general, in his club when the
+vexed administrator announced his intention to retire from the arena and
+take a well-earned rest.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll assume my mother's name, Armathwaite," he had said, "and rusticate
+in some place where Barapur is unknown and India never mentioned. Let's
+have a look at the map!"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at a motoring road-book lying on the club table.</p>
+
+<p>"Here we are!" he laughed. "Judging by the condition of the highways,
+there are backwoods near Nuttonby, in Yorkshire. My postal address will
+be Armathwaite, near Nuttonby, for some months. But I'll write."</p>
+
+<p>So that was how it happened that Sir Robert Dalrymple came to the
+Grange, and met Marguérite Ogilvey. Some part of the outcome of that
+meeting was foreshadowed while Smith of the Begonias was unlocking the
+gate, because a procession of three appeared in the porch.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Scaife and a nurse were carrying Percy Whittaker between them. The
+doctor's distress was almost comical when he caught sight of Dalrymple.
+He shouted brokenly, being rather breathless:</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake&mdash;Mr. Armathwaite&mdash;come and persuade this young
+man&mdash;to remain here. He insists&mdash;on being taken away&mdash;at once!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LAYING OF THE GHOST</h3>
+
+
+<p>It has been seen that Dalrymple had a short way with the Percy
+Whittakers of this world. He strode up the garden path and confronted
+Whittaker, who was standing on one foot and clinging in pain and terror
+to Dr. Scaife and the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better remain here," he said sternly. "Miss Ogilvey has only
+gone to meet her mother at York. Both ladies will probably arrive this
+evening. Why are you making yourself a nuisance when everyone is doing
+all that is possible to serve you?"</p>
+
+<p>Whittaker clutched the doctor even more tightly.</p>
+
+<p>"He says that before witnesses," he quavered, "yet less than an hour ago
+he tried to strangle me."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff and nonsense! I don't believe it!" protested Scaife emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>"I frightened him, undoubtedly," said Dalrymple. "It was necessary.
+Sometimes a threatened spanking is as effectual as the real thing, and
+Mr. Whittaker's nervous system has led him to take an exaggerated view
+of my intentions. The fact is that he himself was responsible for a show
+of violence on my part. Meanwhile, Marguérite Ogilvey, whom you have
+always known as Meg Garth, Dr. Scaife, has promised to become my wife,
+so Mr. Whittaker and I have no further cause for quarrel. Indeed, by the
+time he is able to walk downstairs unassisted, his own good sense will
+come to the rescue, and blot out any unpleasant memories as between him
+and me.... Now, Percy, my boy, let me use my muscles to better purpose
+than choking the life out of you. I'm going to carry you back to bed
+again."</p>
+
+<p>His air of quiet domination, no less than the news which sounded the
+knell of Whittaker's hopes, seemed to mesmerize the neurotic youth into
+silence and submission. Dalrymple took him in his arms, lifted him off
+the ground with gentle care, and carried him to the bedroom he had
+insisted on leaving. The nurse followed, and he left the invalid in her
+care.</p>
+
+<p>Hastening to the porch, he found Dr. Scaife mopping his forehead; the
+worthy doctor was more upset by the frenzied statements made by Percy
+than by the physical effort involved by carrying him downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait one moment," he said. "I'm bringing in some men whom you know.
+Then I shall explain everything."</p>
+
+<p>He passed on to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you, Hutton, and you, Mr. Dobb, to come into the house. Those
+police officers also had better join us. Who is the other man?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Banks, of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>," said the baronet.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Let him come, too. Better tell him what he must not say
+rather than correct his blunders subsequently in a court of law."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb, being a lawyer, doubted the wisdom of admitting a
+representative of the press to their conclave, but Dalrymple's air of
+authority kept him dumb. During the drive from Nuttonby the delegate of
+the India Office had discoursed on the important position this stranger
+occupied in India, and it was not for a country solicitor, who hardly
+guessed what was coming, to question his decision before he knew its
+scope.</p>
+
+<p>And therein Dalrymple showed his genius. Banks, already in a flutter
+because of certain indiscretions in his printed references to the
+inquest, was at once soothed and gratified by the great man's tact. The
+police superintendent found the ground cut away from beneath his feet by
+the full and complete version of recent events which Dalrymple
+supplied. Sir Berkeley and the doctor listened to the recital with
+ill-suppressed amazement, but, at the end, they agreed, each and all,
+with Dalrymple's suggestion that judgment should be suspended until Mrs.
+Ogilvey was in Elmdale.</p>
+
+<p>He did not attempt to argue that the law should not take its course.</p>
+
+<p>"During the past ten years," he said, "I have held the lives and
+liberties of two millions of people in my keeping, so I need hardly say
+that I am a most unlikely person to fly in the face of authority. But
+there are circumstances connected with this inquiry which call for
+careful treatment. Some man died here, and was buried, and the law must
+be satisfied that Mr. Stephen Ogilvey was either ignorant of the
+occurrence, or had no guilty knowledge of it&mdash;which is not quite the
+same thing&mdash;before he can be exonerated from the grave suspicion at
+present attached to his actions of two years ago. Now, I have not the
+honor of knowing either Mr. Ogilvey or his wife, but I do hold that they
+could not have won the respect of their neighbors during twenty years of
+residence in this house and yet be capable of planning and committing an
+atrocious murder. I would point out that Mrs. Ogilvey shares some of the
+blame, or the guilt, of her husband. If he is a criminal, she knows it.
+The law looks with lenient eyes on a woman who shields a man in such
+conditions, but that element in human affairs only goes to strengthen my
+contention that Mrs. Ogilvey can, if she chooses, throw a flood of light
+on this strange problem. She is now on her way North. Her daughter has
+gone to York to meet her. In all likelihood, one or both ladies will be
+in Elmdale to-night. Is it not reasonable to ask that investigation by
+the police into a singular occurrence now two years old should be
+postponed till to-morrow? Gentlemen, I promise you this. Come here
+to-morrow, say, about two o'clock, and you will be placed in possession
+of every fact then known to me. It is obvious, in my opinion, that the
+police can hardly adopt any other course, but I am bound to point out to
+Mr. Banks that the man who writes, and the newspaper which publishes,
+theories or speculations with regard to this matter before it is fully
+cleared up through the proper channel, will incur a most serious
+responsibility."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Berkeley Hutton, of course, had a word to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Garth, or Mr. Ogilvey as you now call him, is an old and valued
+friend of mine," he declared, "and it is my fixed and definite belief
+that if he was stung by a wasp he would find some excuse for a poor
+insect which was only trying to protect itself from imaginary danger.
+Stephen Garth kill anybody! Stuff and nonsense!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dobb, too, was incredulous in so far as his friend's criminality was
+concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Garth certainly wrote the letter to the coroner," he said. "I saw
+it, and recognized his handwriting. Therefore, he knew that a death had
+taken place, and used a remarkably ingenious method of hoodwinking the
+authorities. That, in itself, is a legal offense&mdash;the magnitude of which
+alone can be estimated when we know the truth. I agree with Sir Robert
+Dalrymple. We must await Mrs. Garth's, or, I suppose I must learn to
+say, Mrs. Ogilvey's, arrival before any other steps are taken.
+Meanwhile, it is of the utmost importance that no word of this
+discussion shall travel beyond these four walls."</p>
+
+<p>"Will Sir Robert Dalrymple undertake to notify me of Mrs. Ogilvey's
+presence?" was the very pertinent inquiry made by the police
+superintendent.</p>
+
+<p>Dalrymple undertook readily to send a messenger into Nuttonby early next
+morning, and his diplomacy was rewarded by seeing the conclave break up
+on that understanding. Nevertheless, he passed a miserable and restless
+day. He had not stemmed the torrent, but diverted it. If his faith was
+not justified, if Marguérite's mother either refused to give any
+explanation of her husband's extraordinary ruse, or denied all knowledge
+of it, there was no getting away from the fact that the elderly recluse
+might soon be lodged in a felon's cell.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite herself would strain every nerve to save her father, if only
+by flight, but her lover realized how futile that would prove. He had
+secured a respite&mdash;and no more. If Mrs. Ogilvey's admissions led her
+daughter to journey on through the night to Warleggan, the girl might
+contrive to hurry her father out of England before the bolt fell. But to
+what avail? They would be traced with ease. Their flight, the pursuit,
+the arrest, would only add fuel to the flame lighted by inquisitive
+newspapers. Better, far better, that the man should face an inquiry at
+once rather than be put on trial after a vain attempt to escape.</p>
+
+<p>It was almost a relief to visit Percy Whittaker during the afternoon,
+and endeavor to convert him from active enmity into a sulky acquiescence
+in things as they were, and not as he hoped they would be. Luckily,
+Dalrymple had estimated a curious temperament with singular accuracy.
+After a long conversation, in which the older man cajoled and flattered
+Percy by turns, the latter declared that he never meant to put his
+threat into force.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not such an ass as to want to marry a girl who loathed the sight of
+me," he said ruefully. "I tried to frighten Meg. I guessed she'd run off
+to Warleggan. My motive was to separate the pair of you. Then I'd
+follow, as soon as this confounded ankle of mine would permit, and tell
+her candidly that I was frantically jealous of you. Dash it all, and not
+without good cause! All's fair in love an' war, Mr. Armathwaite. I've a
+notion now that my splutter simply drove her into your arms."</p>
+
+<p>"My name is not Armathwaite&mdash;&mdash;" began Dalrymple, whereupon Whittaker
+glared at him in a new frenzy.</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought it was!" he vociferated. "Let me tell you you're the
+biggest puzzle of the lot. I shan't be a bit surprised if you say you
+are the fellow who hanged somebody here, and persuaded old Garth to
+stand the racket."</p>
+
+<p>So, to pass the time while the nurse was eating a meal, Dalrymple told
+him the story of Barapur, and Percy heard, and was subdued, since he
+knew now that, come what might, Marguérite Ogilvey was lost to him
+forever.</p>
+
+<p>Then, while Dalrymple was surveying the day's work of Smith and his
+men, and declaring it was good, there came a messenger from Bellerby on
+a borrowed bicycle, bearing a telegram. It was from Marguérite, and
+Dalrymple's heart danced with joy when he read:</p>
+
+<p>"All is well. Father leaves for York to-night. He will join mother and
+me early to-morrow. Expect us about ten o'clock. Am detaining car. Love,
+MEG."</p>
+
+<p>All is well! What was well? It was a woman's message, which assumed
+everything and told nothing, except the one amazing fact that Stephen
+Ogilvey's wife had evidently decided that the period of concealment was
+ended, and that her husband should now vindicate himself in the eyes of
+his world.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, a youth returned to Bellerby with two bicycles and the
+richer by two sovereigns, so it is tolerably certain that Dalrymple's
+few words of congratulation were not delayed on the way.</p>
+
+<p>The new tenant smoked and mused in the garden for another hour, until
+Betty came to summon him to dinner. He was entering the house when he
+saw the ghost again, a phantom divested now of eeriness, because a round
+blob of sunshine shone on the wall instead of the white sockets of eyes
+which lent such a ghoulish aspect to the shadowy face. Then he did a
+queer thing. Lifting the grandfather's clock, and disregarding the
+protest of weights and pendulum thumping against its wooden ribs, he
+placed it exactly where the reflection of the window fell. Instantly,
+the ghost vanished. The dark mahogany case absorbed the outlines of the
+figure. The old Spanish wood glowed richly here and there where the
+lights were strongest, and a disk of gold illumined the dull brass of
+the clock's face. And that was the end of the Elmdale ghost! Never again
+would it be seen until someone moved the clock, and Sir Robert Dalrymple
+vowed that such alteration should not occur in his time.</p>
+
+<p>Luckily, Dr. Scaife came just as Dalrymple was sitting down to a
+solitary meal, and he was promptly bidden to the feast. Dalrymple showed
+him Marguérite's telegram, and they discussed it for an hour, or longer,
+though with no result, for they could only theorize, and, since truth is
+stranger than fiction, even two such acute minds failed to arrive at the
+actual solution of the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Dalrymple went late to bed, and awoke early, to find that the
+much-maligned British climate had produced another fine day. It was
+joyous to see the sun shining into his bedroom; it was still more joyous
+to descend the stairs, and glimpse the blue sky through the Black
+Prince's visor. A current of pure, sweet-scented air came through the
+orifice, and seemed to presage a new span of life to the old house;
+Dalrymple decided, then and there, that when the turmoil had subsided,
+he would commission the best obtainable artist in stained glass to
+restore the Black Prince's features in guise befitting his character as
+a warrior, statesman, and true lover.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes before ten Tom Bland came with a cartload of plants from a
+nursery. Smith and the laborers carried the boxes of flowers into the
+garden, and set them on both sides of the path, so that happy chance
+contrived that Marguérite should lead her parents to their old home
+through a blaze of color when the automobile brought them to the gate at
+ten o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>It is not often that any collection of mortals is privileged to see a
+ghost in broad daylight, and in the rays of a powerful sun at that, but
+such was the lot of carrier Bland, gardener Smith, and four gaping
+yokels of Elmdale, not to mention a quite respectable number of other
+inhabitants, when Stephen Garth alighted from the car and walked
+jauntily up the garden to the porch of his own house. To save Mrs.
+Jackson and Betty from spasms, Dalrymple had warned them previously of
+Mr. Garth's coming, but the men, and Elmdale generally, were not thus
+enlightened, and some of them would certainly have bolted had they not
+seen "the new guv'nor" shaking hands with "the old guv'nor," and had not
+the latter stopped to greet Begonia Smith with the exceedingly trite
+remark:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Smith, I'm not so dead as you thought me!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said Smith, who did not find his tongue again until the
+newcomers had gone into the Grange.</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to one of the men.</p>
+
+<p>"All I can say, Henery, is this," he murmured huskily. "I've heerd of
+people lookin' as though they'd bin dead an' dug up, but I'll take my
+oath no one has dug Mr. Garth out o' Bellerby Churchyard."</p>
+
+<p>"It must be all right, though," was the philosophic answer. "Miss Meg
+wouldn't look so happy if there was goin' to be trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay! But hurry up with those begonias. In with 'em!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>It would serve no good purpose to set forth in detail the manner in
+which Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvey cleared up the mystery on the one hand, and
+became mystified themselves on the other. Few parents can rear a
+charming daughter to womanhood without experiencing the surprise,
+almost the dismay, of finding that she has given her heart to a man of
+whom they know little. In this instance, a devoted father and an equally
+devoted mother could only listen in bewilderment when the girl, who was
+still a child in their eyes, introduced "Robert Armathwaite" as her
+promised husband, while their astonished eyes were only paralleled by
+Meg's own when the tall, grave-looking stranger proceeded to explain
+that he was not Robert Armathwaite, but Sir Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite, at first, believed he was joking. When he assured her he was
+even more serious than usual, she relieved the situation by making an
+elaborate curtsey to her own reflection in an old-fashioned mirror in
+the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Dalrymple!" she cried. "Presented at court by her humble self! Sir
+Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.! Lady Dalrymple, K.I.S.S.!"</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon, she proceeded to invest each of them with her own order.</p>
+
+<p>When the bench, the bar, the police, and the press were duly represented
+that afternoon, Mr. Stephen Ogilvey spoke fully and frankly. His wife
+and daughter were present, and, if Mrs. Ogilvey wept a little during the
+recital, it was only natural.</p>
+
+<p>For she alone knew what this gentle-voiced, white-haired man had endured
+during those June days two years ago.</p>
+
+<p>Even the tender-hearted Marguérite could never realize the exquisite
+torture which her father had suffered voluntarily. Perhaps the presence
+of her lover, combined with the reaction of the discovery that her
+father had committed no actual crime, rendered her temporarily incapable
+of appreciating the motives which accounted for his actions.</p>
+
+<p>Be that as it may, this is his story:</p>
+
+<p>"To make clear the reason which led me to deceive my friends in Elmdale
+in such an extraordinary way, I must go back twenty-four years in my
+life. I was then thirty-five years of age, and Professor of Philology in
+a recently-formed University in the Midlands. I was married, but, as
+some of you know, my first and only child was not born until the events
+happened which drove me into retirement, and led my dear wife and myself
+to seek the peace and seclusion of Elmdale."</p>
+
+<p>It is not to be wondered at if Dalrymple and Marguérite exchanged
+smiling glances at those words; but the Professor's strange narrative
+should not be interrupted by lovers' confidences.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a man of highly sensitive nature," he went on, "and my mind almost
+gave way under the shock when my brother James, somewhat older than
+myself, who occupied a prominent position in Birmingham as manager of an
+important private bank, was reported missing from his office under
+circumstances which pointed to a serious and systematic embezzlement of
+the bank's funds. Day by day the scandal enlarged its bounds. The bank
+closed its doors; hundreds of people were ruined; there were several
+cases of suicide among the robbed depositors; and, at last, my brother,
+James Ogilvey, was arrested in France, owing to a chance meeting with a
+man who knew him. He was brought to trial, sentenced to a long term of
+penal servitude, and passed into seeming oblivion accompanied by the
+curses of thousands. My wife and I literally could not hold up our heads
+among our friends in the Midlands, and, as we were not wholly dependent
+on my earnings, we resolved to change our name and start life anew. At
+that crisis, my mother died. Undoubtedly her death was hastened by my
+brother's wrong-doing, and it is probable that she destroyed a will
+already in existence, meaning to make another, but was stricken down by
+apoplexy before she could carry out her intention. At any rate, no will
+was found, so her property became intestate. This house and ground
+belonged to her, but she was unknown locally, as she left Elmdale more
+than half a century ago, so, after settling some legal matters, my wife
+and I determined to live here, and adopt my wife's maiden name. There
+was no great difficulty. I still continued to do my work, which was
+mainly of a specialist nature, under my own name, but in Elmdale I was
+always 'Stephen Garth,' and the catastrophe in the Midlands soon passed
+into the mists when our child was born.</p>
+
+<p>"We reasoned that by the time she grew to womanhood, the memory of James
+Ogilvey's crime would have died away. At any rate, there was nothing to
+be gained by letting her know that such a person had ever existed, and
+you can take it from me that she was ignorant of the fact until a late
+hour yesterday. Some eight years ago, my unfortunate brother was
+released. I met him in London, supplied him with ample funds, and sent
+him to the Colonies, taking good care that he should know neither my
+altered name nor my address. I heard no more of him until the beginning
+of June, two years since, when he wrote to me as 'Stephen Garth,' said
+he was coming to live in my house, being tired of a roving life, and
+threatened to take lodgings in the village if I did not receive him.
+Now, my wife and I were determined that he should never cross our
+daughter's path if we could help it, so a journey to France was
+resolved on hastily and the two took their departure. For my own part, I
+decided to await my brother's coming, and try to reason with him. If he
+proved obdurate, I meant to join my wife and daughter abroad, and, to
+that end, as Mr. Dobb is aware, I made over all my property to my wife
+in trust for my daughter. This step was necessary, I believe, to save
+them from persecution at my brother's hands, because he had hinted at
+some grievance with regard to the disposition of my mother's estate, a
+grievance quite unfounded, since I had dealt with him most generously on
+his release from prison. In order to conceal his presence from the
+villagers until I had tried every argument to prevail on him to leave me
+and my family in peace, I arranged to meet him at Leyburn, and drive to
+the edge of the moor. I brought him to the house without anyone being
+the wiser, but I soon found I was a child in his hands. He played on my
+fear of publicity by agreeing to lie <i>perdu</i> if I would supply him with
+drink. I bore with the infliction for some days until, driven to
+despair, I refused to purchase any more alcohol. There was a furious
+scene between us, and he threatened not merely exposure, but legal
+proceedings to force me to 'disgorge,' as he put it, his share of the
+property left by our mother, whose maiden name, by the way, Faulkner,
+is well known here. I realize now that James was in a state verging on
+dementia, but I may sum up a distressing period of four days and nights
+of suffering by saying that, in a final paroxysm of rage, he was seized
+with apoplexy, and died almost instantaneously.</p>
+
+<p>"Though convinced that he was dead, I hoped against hope for some hours.
+Then <i>rigor mortis</i> set in, and I knew that the only man who had ever
+inflicted an injury on my good name had struck his last and shrewdest
+blow by dying in my house. I want you to consider the position I was in.
+A man, a stranger, was lying there dead, in circumstances that demanded
+an inquest. I had not called for a doctor, or obtained any assistance
+locally. I had sent my wife and daughter to a foreign country, obviously
+to get them out of the way. A <i>post-mortem</i> examination would show that
+death had taken place nearly a day before I made any stir. If I
+destroyed certain documents in my brother's possession&mdash;such, for
+instance, as a ticket of leave, which he had retained long after its
+expiry for the mere purpose, I firmly believe, of bringing pressure to
+bear on me&mdash;there would be nothing to show his identity. In a word,
+there was a <i>prima facie</i> case of murder ready to be established against
+me. Of course, the medical evidence would go to prove my innocence, but
+all the world&mdash;all of my small world, at any rate&mdash;would gape and gossip
+because of the scandal which my wife and I had given more than twenty
+years of our life to escape. For the sake of my wife and daughter I
+resolved upon a daring expedient. The 'Ogilvey fraud' of a previous
+generation was forgotten. Why should I not resume my own name, and let
+my brother die and be buried as Stephen Garth? I saw that my own
+behavior during the past week would help the assumption that I had
+committed suicide, while a rather marked resemblance between my brother
+and myself, together with the fact that he had died from apoplexy, would
+complete the illusion. Moreover, there exists, in connection with this
+very house, a curious legend which condemned seven generations of its
+owners to die by violence, either self-inflicted, or caused by others.
+James Ogilvey's death was the seventh, and I trusted to this alleged
+prophecy of a Spanish priest put to death by a sea-rover named Faulkner
+in the seventeenth century being sufficiently well known in connection
+with a shadow, or manifestation, cast on the wall by a stained-glass
+window in the staircase.</p>
+
+<p>"At any rate, I steeled my heart to a dreadful undertaking, dressed my
+brother in my own clothes, tied his body to a hook in the hall where
+the shadow I have spoken of is seen at this time of the year, and stole
+away across the moor after writing a letter to the coroner.</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen, I believe I have broken the law in some respects, and I am
+prepared to suffer for my misdeeds. Perhaps, a long and blameless and
+not wholly useless life may plead for me now. I acted as I did because
+of a certain pride in my work, and because of my love for a dear wife
+and daughter. I dreamed that the dead past had indeed buried its dead
+but, by a most unusual combination of simple circumstances, the whole
+strange story has been brought to light. I have nothing more to say. Now
+that a long ordeal of silence is ended, I am happier to-day than I ever
+thought to be again in my existence. I can produce a certain number of
+documents to prove what I may term the historical part of my confession.
+The really vital part of it&mdash;the manner of my brother's death&mdash;can
+receive no other testimony than my own, eked out by such statement as my
+friend, Dr. Scaife, may find himself able to make after hearing my
+version of the tragedy."</p>
+
+<p>Marguérite ran to her father and threw her arms around his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"If they take you before a judge, dad," she cried, "let me go into court
+and tell them that I was the cause of all the trouble. Then he will
+warn me not to be such a bad little girl, and sympathize with you so
+greatly that he will say you leave the court without a stain on your
+character."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>As a matter of fact, owing to the attitude of the authorities and with
+the active assistance of Banks in the columns of the <i>Nuttonby Gazette</i>,
+the official inquiry into the affair attracted very little notice. A
+ten-line paragraph explained that it was Mr. James Ogilvey who died, and
+not Mr. Stephen Garth, and a special faculty was obtained to correct the
+announcement on the stone in Bellerby churchyard. Naturally, the people
+in Elmdale and the neighborhood had a pretty fair knowledge of the
+truth, but everyone was so pleased to see the "professor" and his wife
+again that the thing was hushed up with remarkable ease. Even Percy
+Whittaker held his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Village gossip has it that Storr, the chauffeur, is badly smitten by
+Betty Jackson's charms. The girl's mother clinched matters by grumbling
+that "sen Betty's gotten a young man there's no doin' owt wi' her." And
+Begonia Smith turned the garden into a fairy-land that summer.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Prince received his new and most impressive set of features
+before a certain noteworthy marriage took place, and beamed a courtly
+approval on the bride when she descended the stairs in her wedding
+dress. In fact, the Elmdale tragedy received its quietus when James
+Walker, senior, and James Walker, junior, watched Sir Robert and Lady
+Dalrymple drive past their office <i>en route</i> to Paris and the Continent.</p>
+
+<p>Said the father:</p>
+
+<p>"Little things often lead to the most surprising events. Who'd ha'
+thought, Jimmie, when we let the 'House 'Round the Corner' to a stranger
+named Robert Armathwaite, that we were indirectly bringing about the
+marriage of Meg Garth to Sir Robert Dalrymple?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't, for one!" said the son gloomily.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>ZANE GREY'S NOVELS</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</i></h3>
+
+<p>A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE RAINBOW TRAIL</i></h3>
+
+<p>The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands&mdash;until at last love and faith awake.</p>
+
+<h3><i>DESERT GOLD</i></h3>
+
+<p>The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
+the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
+is the story's heroine.</p>
+
+<h3><i>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</i></h3>
+
+<p>A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</i></h3>
+
+<p>This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
+known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
+and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</i></h3>
+
+<p>A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
+New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
+become the second wife of one of the Mormons&mdash;Well, that's the problem
+of this great story.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE SHORT STOP</i></h3>
+
+<p>The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
+fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
+followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.</p>
+
+<h3><i>BETTY ZANE</i></h3>
+
+<p>This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE LONE STAR RANGER</i></h3>
+
+<p>After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
+the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
+young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
+upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
+side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE BORDER LEGION</i></h3>
+
+<p>Joan Handle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him&mdash;she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
+and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader&mdash;and nurses him to
+health again. Here enters another romance&mdash;when Joan, disguised as an
+outlaw, observes Jim in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
+thrilling robbery&mdash;gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey</p>
+
+<p>The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>"K."</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p>
+
+<p>An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.</p>
+
+<h3><i>WHEN A MAN MARRIES.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.</p>
+
+<p>A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illus. by Lester Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)</p>
+
+<p>Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>SEVENTEEN.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.</p>
+
+<p>No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
+people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
+time when the reader was Seventeen.</p>
+
+<h3><i>PENROD.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Gordon Grant.</p>
+
+<p>This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.</p>
+
+<h3><i>PENROD AND SAM.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Worth Brehm.</p>
+
+<p>Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
+of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
+that have ever been written.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE TURMOIL.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
+father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
+fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<p>A story of love and politics,&mdash;more especially a picture of a country
+editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
+interest.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE FLIRT.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.</p>
+
+<p>The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
+drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
+to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
+suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>MOTHER.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p>
+
+<p>This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality
+of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's
+experiences.</p>
+
+<h3><i>SATURDAY'S CHILD.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.</p>
+
+<p>Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages&mdash;poverty, wealth
+and service&mdash;and works out a creditable salvation.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.</p>
+
+<p>The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be
+swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.</p>
+
+<p>How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE HEART OF RACHAEL.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these,
+there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most
+appealing characters.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>SEWELL FORD'S STORIES</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>SHORTY McCABE.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>A very humorous story, The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.</p>
+
+<h3><i>SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human
+nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."</p>
+
+<h3><i>SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to
+the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.</p>
+
+<h3><i>SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.</p>
+
+<h3><i>TORCHY.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illus, by Geo. Brehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg.</p>
+
+<p>A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the
+youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.</p>
+
+<h3><i>TRYING OUT TORCHY.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.</p>
+
+<h3><i>ON WITH TORCHY.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but
+that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart,
+which brings about many hilariously funny situations.</p>
+
+<h3><i>TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.</p>
+
+<h3><i>WILT THOU TORCHY.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast,
+in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his
+friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place
+an engagement ring on Vee's finger.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE</h3>
+
+
+<h3><i>MAVERICKS.</i></h3>
+
+<p>A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations
+are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
+of the sweetest love stories ever told.</p>
+
+<h3><i>A TEXAS RANGER.</i></h3>
+
+<p>How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into
+the mesquite, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.</p>
+
+<h3><i>WYOMING.</i></h3>
+
+<p>In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.</p>
+
+<h3><i>RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.</i></h3>
+
+<p>The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and
+mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.</p>
+
+<h3><i>BUCKY O'CONNOR.</i></h3>
+
+<p>Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.</p>
+
+<h3><i>CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.</i></h3>
+
+<p>A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter
+feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual
+woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.</p>
+
+<h3><i>BRAND BLOTTERS.</i></h3>
+
+<p>A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The House 'Round the Corner, by Gordon Holmes
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The House 'Round the Corner
+
+
+Author: Gordon Holmes
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 12, 2012  [eBook #39432]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D Alexander, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://archive.org/details/houseroundcorner00traciala
+
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER
+
+by
+
+GORDON HOLMES
+
+Author of
+A Mysterious Disappearance, The Arncliffe Puzzle, etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright, 1919, by
+Edward J. Clode
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                            PAGE
+
+        I. WHEREIN THE HOUSE RECEIVES A NEW TENANT                      1
+
+       II. SHOWING HOW EVEN A HOUSE MAY HAVE A WAY OF ITS OWN          21
+
+      III. A MIDNIGHT SEANCE                                           42
+
+       IV. SHOWING HOW EXPLANATIONS DO NOT ALWAYS EXPLAIN              63
+
+        V. GATHERING CLOUDS                                            84
+
+       VI. THE STORM BREAKS                                           106
+
+      VII. A FAINT-HEARTED ALLY                                       127
+
+     VIII. WHERIN PERCY WHITTAKER PROVES HIMSELF A MAN OF ACTION      147
+
+       IX. SHOWING THE REAL STRENGTH OF AN ILLUSION                   167
+
+        X. ARMATHWAITE STATES A CASE                                  185
+
+       XI. PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE                                    206
+
+      XII. THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY                                 226
+
+     XIII. DEUS EX MACHINA                                            246
+
+      XIV. IN WHICH THE AREA WIDENS                                   267
+
+       XV. THE LAYING OF THE GHOST                                    287
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+WHEREIN THE HOUSE RECEIVES A NEW TENANT
+
+
+The train had panted twelve miles up a sinuous valley, halting at three
+tiny stations on the way; it dwelt so long at the fourth that the
+occupant of a first-class carriage raised his eyes from the book he was
+reading. He found the platform packed with country folk, all heading in
+the same direction. Hitherto, this heedless traveller had been aware of
+some station-master or porter bawling an unintelligible name; now, his
+fellow-passengers seemed to know what place this was without being told;
+moreover, they seemed to be alighting there.
+
+A porter, whose face, hands, and clothing were of one harmonious tint,
+suggesting that he had been dipped bodily in some brownish dye, and then
+left to dry in the sun, opened the door.
+
+"Aren't you gettin' out, sir?" he inquired, and his tone implied both
+surprise and pain.
+
+"Is this Nuttonby?" said the passenger.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why this crush of traffic?"
+
+"It's market day, sir."
+
+"Thanks. I didn't expect to see such a crowd. Have you a parcels
+office, where I can leave some baggage?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Hang on to this bag, then. There are three boxes in the van. You'll
+need a barrow--they're heavy!"
+
+By this time, the man who knew so little of important Nuttonby--which
+held 3,005 inhabitants in the 1911 census, having increased by two since
+1901--had risen, and was collecting a fisherman's outfit, and some odds
+and ends of personal belongings. He followed the porter, who, on eyeing
+the rods and pannier, and with some knowledge of "county" manners, had
+accepted the stranger as entitled to hold a first-class ticket. Sure
+enough, the boxes were heavy. The guard had to assist in handling them.
+
+"By gum!" said the porter, when he tried to lift the first on to a
+trolley.
+
+"Books," explained the traveler.
+
+"I thought mebbe they wuz lead," said the porter.
+
+"Some books have that quality," said the other.
+
+The guard, a reader in his spare time, smiled. The owner of so much
+solid literature seized a stout leather handle.
+
+"I'll give you a hand," he said, and the porter soon added to his slight
+store of facts concerning the newcomer. This tall, sparsely-built man
+in tweeds and a deer-stalker cap was no weakling.
+
+The platform was nearly empty when the porter began to trundle the
+loaded trolley along its length. A pert youth appeared from nowhere, and
+cried "Ticket!" firmly, almost threateningly. He was given a first-class
+ticket from York, and a receipt for excess luggage. The bit of white
+paste-board startled him. "Thank you, sir," he said. First-class
+passengers were rare birds at Nuttonby; too late, he knew he ought to
+have said "Ticket, please!"
+
+The same pert youth, appearing again from nowhere, officiated in the
+parcels office. He noticed that none of the articles bore a name or
+initials; they were brand-new; their only railway labels were "York,
+from King's Cross," and "Nuttonby, from York."
+
+"Book the bag and these small articles separately," he was instructed.
+"I may want them soon. The boxes may be sent for this afternoon; I don't
+know yet." He turned to the porter: "Is there a house agent in the
+town?"
+
+"Yes, sir--two."
+
+"Which is the better--the man with the larger _clientele_--sorry, I mean
+with the greater number of houses on his books?"
+
+"Well, sir, Walker an' Son have bin in business here fifty year an'
+more."
+
+"I'll try Walker. Where's his place?"
+
+"Next door the 'Red Lion,' sir."
+
+Then the youth, anxious to atone, and rather quicker-witted than the
+brown-hued one, got in a word.
+
+"The 'Red Lion' is halfway up the main street, sir. Turn to your right
+when you leave here, an' you're there in two minutes."
+
+"I'll show the gentleman," said the porter, who had decided a month ago
+that this blooming kid was putting on airs. He was as good as his
+word--or nearly so. A tip of half a crown was stupefying, but he
+gathered his wits in time to say brokenly at the exit:
+
+"Wu-Wu-Walker's is straight up, sir."
+
+Straight up the stranger went. The wide street was crammed with stalls,
+farmers' carts, carriers' carts, dog-carts, even a couple of
+automobiles, for Wednesday, being market day, was also police-court day
+and Board of Guardians day. He passed unheeded. On Wednesdays, Nuttonby
+was a metropolis; on any other day in the week he would have drawn
+dozens of curious eyes, peeping surreptitiously over short curtains, or
+more candidly in the open. Of course, he was seen by many, since
+Nuttonby was not so metropolitan that it failed to detect a new face,
+even on Wednesdays; but his style and appearance were of the gentry;
+Nuttonby decided that he had strayed in from some "big" house in the
+district.
+
+Walker & Son, it would seem, were auctioneers, land valuers, and probate
+estimators as well as house agents. Their office was small, but not
+retiring. It displayed a well-developed rash of sale posters, inside and
+out. One, in particular, was heroic in size. It told of a "spacious
+mansion, with well-timbered park," having been put up for auction--five
+years earlier. Whiteness of paper and blackness of type suggested that
+Walker & Son periodically renewed this aristocrat among auction
+announcements--perhaps to kindle a selling spirit among the landed
+gentry, a notoriously conservative and hold-tight class.
+
+A young man, seated behind a counter, reading a sporting newspaper, and
+smoking a cigarette, rose hastily when the caller entered.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said, thereby implying instant readiness to engage in one
+or all of the firm's activities.
+
+"Are you Mr. Walker?" said the newcomer.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Ah! I thought you might be the son."
+
+"Well, I am, if it comes to that. Do you want my father?"
+
+Walker, junior, was a Nuttonby "nut"--a sharp young blade who did not
+tolerate chaff.
+
+"I want to rent a furnished house in or near a quiet country village,
+where there is some good fishing," was the answer. "Now, you can
+determine whether I should trouble Mr. Walker, senior, or not?"
+
+"No trouble at all, sir! He'll be here in ten seconds."
+
+Walker, junior, had nearly made the same mistake as the
+ticket-collecting youth; however, he estimated time correctly. He went
+out, put his head through the open window of the "Red Lion's"
+bar-parlor, and shouted: "Dad, you're wanted!" Thus, within ten seconds,
+the stranger saw the firm!
+
+He repeated his need, and there was a great parade of big-leafed books,
+while the elder Walker ascertained the prospective client's exact
+requirements. Whittled down to bare facts, they amounted to this: A
+house, in a small and remote village, and a trout stream. The absolute
+seclusion of the village and its diminutive proportions were insisted
+on, and property after property was rejected, though the Walkers were
+puzzled to know why.
+
+This distinguished-looking man wished to find a dwelling far removed
+from any social center. His ideal was a tiny moorland hamlet, miles from
+the railway, and out of the beaten track of summer visitors. Suddenly,
+the son cried:
+
+"Elmdale is the very place, dad!"
+
+Dad's face brightened, but clouded again instantly.
+
+"You mean--er--the house 'round the corner?" he said, pursing his lips.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'm afraid it wouldn't suit."
+
+"Why not?" put in the stranger. "I rather like the name."
+
+"I didn't mention any name, sir," and Walker, senior, still looked glum.
+
+"You described it as the house 'round the corner--an excellent name. It
+attracts me. Where is Elmdale?"
+
+The head of the firm pointed to a map of the North Riding hanging above
+the fireplace.
+
+"Here you are," he said, seizing a pen and running it along the
+meandering black line of a stream. "Eight miles from Nuttonby, and
+thousands from every other town--on the edge of the moor--about forty
+houses in the village--and a first-rate beck, with trout running from
+four ounces to half a pound--but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"The house, sir. You won't like the house."
+
+"What's wrong with it?"
+
+"Nothing. It's comfortable enough, and well furnished."
+
+Yet again he hesitated.
+
+"Why, it appears to be, as your son said, the very place."
+
+Walker, senior, smiled drearily. He knew what was coming.
+
+"I can't recommend it, sir, and for this reason. A gentleman named
+Garth--Mr. Stephen Garth; some sort of professor, I understand--lived
+there a many years, with his wife and daughter. Nice, quiet people they
+were, and the young lady was a beauty. No one could make out why they
+should wish to be buried alive in a hole like Elmdale, but they seemed
+happy enough. Then, two years since, in this very month of June, Mrs.
+Garth and the girl drove into Nuttonby in their governess car, and went
+off by train, sending the trap back by a hired man. Mr. Garth mooned
+about for a week or two, and then hanged himself one evening alongside a
+grandfather's clock which stands in the hall. That made a rare stir, I
+can tell you; since then, no one will look at the Grange, which is its
+proper name. I need hardly say that the villagers have seen Mr. Garth's
+ghost many times, particularly in June, because in that month the
+setting sun throws a peculiar shadow through a stained-glass window on
+the half landing. Last year I let the place to a Sheffield family who
+wanted moorland air. My! What a row there was when Mrs. Wilkins heard of
+the suicide, and, of course, saw the ghost! It was all I could do to
+stave off an action for damages. 'Never again,' said I. 'If anybody
+else rents or buys the house, they take the ghost with it.'"
+
+"Is it for sale?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Neither Mrs. Garth nor Miss Marguerite have come near Elmdale
+since they left. They didn't attend the funeral, and I may add, in
+confidence, that Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, solicitors in this town, who
+have charge of their affairs--so far as the ownership of the Grange
+goes, at any rate--do not know their whereabouts. It is a sad story,
+sir."
+
+The would-be tenant was apparently unmoved by the story's sadness.
+
+"What kind of house is it?" he inquired.
+
+"Old-fashioned, roomy, with oaken rafters, and a Jacobean grate in the
+dining-room. Five bedrooms. Fine garden, with its own well, fed by a
+spring. The kind of seventeenth-century dwelling that would fetch a high
+rent nowadays if near a town. As it is, I'd be glad to take sixty pounds
+a year for it, or submit an offer."
+
+"Furnished?"
+
+"Yes, sir, and some decent stuff in it, too. I'm surprised Messrs.
+Holloway & Dobb don't sell that, anyhow; but I believe they have a sort
+of order from Mrs. Garth that the property is to be sold as it stands,
+and not broken up piece-meal."
+
+"Why did you describe it as the house 'round the corner?"
+
+Mr. Walker smiled.
+
+"That was for my son's benefit, sir," he explained. "The Elmdale
+cottages are clustered together on the roadside. The Grange stands above
+them, at one end, and a few yards up a road leading to the moor. It
+commands a fine view, too," he added regretfully.
+
+"I'll take it," said the stranger.
+
+Walker, junior, looked jubilant, but his father's years had weakened
+confidence in mankind. Many a good let was lost ere the agreement was
+signed and this one was beset by special difficulties.
+
+"If you give me your name and address, I'll consult Messrs. Holloway &
+Dobb----" he began, and was probably more astonished than he would care
+to confess by the would-be tenant's emphatic interruption--
+
+"Is this property to let, or is it not?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Haven't I said so?"
+
+"Very well! I offer you a quarter's rent, payable to you or your son
+when I have looked at the place. As a matter of form, I would like one
+of you to accompany me to Elmdale at once, because I must inquire into
+the fishing. I suppose you can hire a conveyance of sorts to take us
+there? Of course, in any event, I shall pay your fee for the journey. My
+name is Robert Armathwaite. I am a stranger in this part of Yorkshire,
+but if you, or Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, care to call at the local bank,
+say, in three days' time, you will be satisfied as to my financial
+standing. I'll sign an agreement for a yearly tenancy, terminable
+thereafter by three months' written notice, when I pay the first
+installment of the rent. As the place is furnished, you will probably
+stipulate for payment in advance throughout. I fancy you can draw up
+such an agreement in half an hour, and, if there is an inventory, it
+should be checked and initialed when we visit the house. Does that
+arrangement suit you?"
+
+The Walkers were prosperous and pompous, but they knew when to sink
+their pomposity.
+
+"Yes, sir, it _can_ be done," agreed the elder man.
+
+"Thank you. Which is the leading bank here?"
+
+Walker, senior, indicated a building directly opposite.
+
+"I'll have a word with the manager," said Mr. Armathwaite. "If I'm here
+in half an hour, will you have a carriage waiting?"
+
+"A dog-cart, sir. My own. My son will attend to you."
+
+"Excellent. Evidently, your firm understands business."
+
+And Mr. Armathwaite went out.
+
+The Walkers watched as he crossed the road, and entered the bank. Their
+side of the street being higher than the other, they could see, above
+the frosted lower half of the bank's window, that he approached the
+counter, and was ushered into the manager's private room.
+
+"What d'ye make of it, dad?" inquired the "nut," forgetting his
+importance in the absorbing interest of the moment.
+
+"Dad" tickled his bald scalp with the handle of the pen.
+
+"Tell you what," he said solemnly. "Some houses have an attraction for
+queer folk. Whoever built the Grange where it is must have been daft.
+The people who lived there when I was a young man were a bit touched.
+Mr. Garth was mad, we know, an' Mrs. Wilkins was the silliest woman I
+ever met. Now comes this one."
+
+"_He_ looks all right."
+
+"You never can tell. At any rate, we'll take his money, and welcome. I
+asked sixty, but wouldn't have sneezed at forty. Neither would Holloway
+& Dobb; they've some costs to collect since the Wilkins' affair. Go and
+get the trap ready. And mind you, Jim, no hanky-panky."
+
+The youthful Walker winked.
+
+"You leave that to me," he said. "What about the fee--will he stand a
+guinea?"
+
+"You might try it, at any rate."
+
+At the appointed time, half-past eleven o'clock, Mr. Armathwaite came,
+carrying a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. He cast an appreciative
+eye at a wiry cob, put the parcel in the back of the waiting dog-cart,
+and climbed to the seat beside the younger Walker, now attired _de
+rigueur_ for the country.
+
+"Will you kindly call at the railway station?" he said.
+
+The request was unexpected, but the driver nodded, and showed some skill
+in turning through the congeries of vehicles which crowded the street.
+
+At the station, the bag and other small articles were withdrawn from the
+parcels office, and deposited beside the package in brown paper. James
+Walker was mystified, but said nothing. Returning through the main
+street, he answered a few questions concerning local matters, and, once
+in the open country, grew voluble under the influence of a first-rate
+Havana proffered by his companion. Men of his type often estimate their
+fellows by a tobacco standard, and Walker privately appraised the cigar
+as "worth a bob, at the lowest figure." From that instant, Mr. Robert
+Armathwaite and Mr. James Walker took up their relative positions
+without demur on the part of either.
+
+Oddly enough, seeing that the newcomer had expressed his dislike for
+society, he listened with interest to bits of gossip concerning the
+owners of the various estates passed on the way. He was specially keen
+on names, even inquiring as to what families one titled landowner was
+connected with by marriage. Then, as to the fishing, could the Walkers
+arrange that for him?
+
+Forgetting his 'cuteness, Walker settled the point off-hand.
+
+"You had better deal with the matter yourself, sir," he said. "There'll
+be no difficulty. Nearly all the Elmdale farms are freeholds, most of
+'em with common rights on the moor. Why, when one of 'em changes hands,
+the buyer has the right to take over all the sheep footed on the
+seller's part of the moor. P'raps you don't know what 'footed' means.
+Sheep will always go back to the place where they were raised, and the
+habit is useful when they stray over an open moorland. So, you see, all
+you have to do is to get permission from two or three farmers, and you
+can fish for miles."
+
+He tried to talk of the Garths, particularly of the pretty daughter, but
+his hearer's attention wandered; obviously, information as to the ways
+and habits of the local yeomanry was more to Mr. Armathwaite's taste
+than a "nut's" gushing about a good-looking girl.
+
+Within an hour, after five miles of fair roadway and two of a
+switchback, mostly rising, Walker pointed with his whip to a thin line
+of red-tiled houses, here and there a thatched roof among them,
+nestling at the foot of a gill, or ravine, which pierced the side of a
+gaunt moorland. Above the hamlet, at the eastern end, rose an
+old-fashioned stone house, square, with a portico in the center, and a
+high-pitched roof of stone slabs.
+
+"There's Elmdale," he said, "and that's the Grange. Looks a god-forsaken
+hole, doesn't it, sir?"
+
+"If you pay heed to the real meanings of words, no place on earth merits
+that description," said Mr. Armathwaite.
+
+Walker was no whit abashed.
+
+"Well, no," he grinned.
+
+"I ought to have asked sooner, but have you brought any keys?"
+
+The agent instinct warned the other that his choice of an adjective had
+been unwise in more ways than one.
+
+"That's all right, sir," he said cheerfully. "The keys are kept in the
+village--at Mrs. Jackson's. She's a useful old body. If you want a
+housekeeper, she and her daughter would suit you down to the ground."
+
+Little more was said until the steaming pony was pulled up in front of a
+thatched cottage. Seen thus intimately, and in the blaze of a June sun,
+Elmdale suggested coziness. Each house, no matter what its size, had a
+garden in front and an orchard behind. Long, narrow pastures ran
+steeply up to the moor, and cattle and sheep were grazing in them. There
+were crops on the lower land. For all its remoteness, Elmdale faced
+south, and its earth was fertile.
+
+Armathwaite sat in the dog-cart while James Walker ran up the strip of
+flower-laden garden, and peered in through a low doorway. In later days,
+the singular fact was borne in on Armathwaite that had his companion
+adopted any other method of making known his business--had he, for
+instance, shouted to Mrs. Jackson or her daughter, Betty, and asked for
+the keys of the Grange--the whole course of his subsequent life would
+unquestionably have been altered. A loose stone under the foot of an
+emperor's horse may change the map of the world. In this instance, a
+remarkable, and, in some respects, unique series of events arose solely
+from the fact that Walker, junior, was of active habit, and alighted
+from the vehicle in preference to announcing his wishes for others to
+hear; because Betty Jackson, at that moment, was plucking gooseberries
+in the back garden, and knew nothing of what was going on until a
+country maid's belated wit failed completely to stem the tide of
+circumstance.
+
+Armathwaite caught scraps of a brief but seemingly heated argument going
+on inside the cottage. It was couched in the Yorkshire dialect, which
+he understood, to some extent, but could not speak. Then Walker, a
+gallant figure in straw hat, gray coat, red waistcoat with gilded
+buttons, breeches and gaiters and brown boots, strutted into sight. He
+was red-faced and laughing, and a bundle of keys jingled in one hand.
+
+"Mrs. Jackson's as bad as any of 'em," he cried, springing to his seat
+and taking the reins from a clip on the dash-board. "Made such a to-do
+about anyone looking over the house. Asked if you'd heard of the ghost,
+too. And, blow me, if she didn't pretend she'd mislaid the keys! We
+wouldn't have got 'em for a deuce of a time if I hadn't twigged 'em
+hanging on a nail, and grabbed 'em. Then she gave me my name for
+nothing, I can assure you."
+
+"Yet you recommended her for the post of housekeeper," said Armathwaite,
+smiling.
+
+"Yes, sir. She's a rare good cook, and tidy, too. Can't make out what's
+come over her. She was fair scared to death."
+
+Walker's statement as to Mrs. Jackson's behavior was by no means highly
+colored. Before he reached the dog-cart, the old woman had hurried into
+the back garden.
+
+"Betty!" she shrilled. "Betty, where are you?"
+
+A head in a poke-bonnet rose above a clump of tall gooseberry bushes,
+and a voice answered:
+
+"Yes, mother, what is it?"
+
+"Run, girl, run! What's to be done? Mr. Walker has brought a man to look
+at the house."
+
+"What house?"
+
+"The Grange, to be sure."
+
+"Oh, mother!"
+
+Betty ran quickly enough now. She was a strongly-built, apple-cheeked
+lass; but there was a glint of fear in her eyes, and the faces of both
+mother and daughter had gone gray under the tan of moor air and much
+work in the open.
+
+"Whatever can we do?" cried Mrs. Jackson, with the hopeless distress of
+a woman overwhelmed by some unforeseen and tragic occurrence. "That
+impudent young Walker came and snatched at the keys before I could stop
+him. And they've gone there, the pair of 'em! There they are
+now--halfway up the hill."
+
+All this, of course, was couched in "broad Yorkshire," which, however,
+need not enter into the record. The two gazed at the men in the
+dog-cart, who were partly visible above a yew hedge, since the by-road
+in which the Grange was situated turned up the hill by the gable of Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage.
+
+"Oh, mother!" said the girl, in awe-stricken accents, "why didn't you
+hide 'em?"
+
+"How was I to hide 'em? I was knocked all of a heap. Who'd have thought
+of anyone coming here to-day, of all days in the year?"
+
+"Who's that with him?" Betty almost sobbed.
+
+"The man who's going over the house, of course."
+
+"Oh, dear! If only I'd known! I'd have taken the keys and gone with
+them."
+
+"What good would that have done?"
+
+"I might have humbugged them into waiting a minute or two. I'd have
+thought of some excuse. But don't worry too much, mother. Maybe they'll
+give the least little look round, and come away again."
+
+"And maybe they won't," cried Mrs. Jackson angrily, for she was
+recovering from her fright, and her daughter's implied reproach was
+irritating. "I did my best, and it can't be helped now, no matter what
+happens. Run after them, Betty, and offer to help. You may manage
+something, even now."
+
+The girl needed no second bidding. She was through the cottage and out
+in the road in a jiffy. But she had lost a minute or more already, and
+the sturdy galloway was climbing a steep hill quickly. When she reached
+a garden gate to which the reins were tied, the front door of the Grange
+stood open, and the visitors were inside.
+
+"Oh, dear!" she breathed, in a heart-broken way. "Oh, dear! If only
+mother had called me sooner! Now, it's too late! And I promised that no
+one should know. Well, I must do my best. Just a bit of luck, and I may
+pull things straight yet!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SHOWING HOW EVEN A HOUSE MAY HAVE A WAY OF ITS OWN
+
+
+While Walker was fiddling with the lock, not being quite sure as to the
+right key, Armathwaite had eyed the southern landscape. Elmdale was six
+hundred feet above sea level, and the Grange stood fully a hundred feet
+higher than the village, so a far-flung panorama of tillage, pasture,
+and woodland provided a delightful picture on that glorious June day. To
+the north, he knew, stretched miles of wild moor, and the heather began
+where the spacious garden ended. A glance at the map in the Walkers'
+office had shown that this bleak waste was crossed by mere tracks,
+marked in the dotted lines which motorists abhor. Indeed, the very road
+leading to the house was not macadamized beyond the gate; two years of
+disuse had converted even the stone-covered portion into a sort of
+meadow, because grass, the sulkiest of vegetables in a well-tended lawn,
+will grow luxuriantly on a granite wall if left alone.
+
+Truly, Elmdale seemed to be at the end of the world--the world of
+Yorkshire, at any rate--and Robert Armathwaite found its aspect
+pleasing. A lock clicked; he turned, and entered a domain he was now
+fully resolved to make his own.
+
+"Well, I'm blest!" said Walker, speaking in a surprised way; "anyone 'ud
+think the place hadn't been empty an hour, let alone two years, not
+countin' Mrs. Wilkins's couple of nights. I wonder who left these
+clothes, and hats, and things!"
+
+He had good reason for a certain stare of bewilderment.
+
+The door, which was stoutly built, with a pane of sheet glass in the
+upper half, opened straight into a spacious, oak-paneled hall. Left and
+right were a dining-room and a drawing-room, each containing two
+windows. Behind the dining-room a wide staircase gave access to the
+upper floors, and a flood of rich and variously-tinted light from a long
+arched window glowed on the dark panels below, and glistened on the
+polished mahogany case of a grandfather's clock which faced the foot of
+the stairs. The wall opposite the entrance was pierced by a half-open
+door, through which could be seen laden bookshelves reaching up eight
+feet or more. Another door, beyond the stairway, showed the only
+possible means of approach to the kitchen and domestic offices.
+
+There were no pictures in the hall, but some antique plates and dishes
+of blue china were ranged on a shelf above the wainscot, and a narrow
+table and four straight-backed chairs, all of oak, were in tasteful
+keeping with the surroundings. On each side of the dining-room door were
+double rows of hooks, and on these hung the garments which had caught
+the agent's eye.
+
+A bowler hat, a frayed panama, a cap, a couple of overcoats, even a
+lady's hat and mackintosh, lent an air of occupancy to the house, which
+was not diminished by the presence of several sticks and umbrellas in a
+couple of Chinese porcelain stands. Walker took down the panama. It was
+dust-laden, and the inner band of leather had a clammy feeling. He
+replaced it hastily.
+
+"That's the Professor's," he said, trying to speak unconcernedly. "I
+remember seeing him in it, many a time."
+
+Armathwaite noticed the action, and was aware of a peculiar _timbre_ in
+Walker's voice.
+
+"Now, suppose we lay that ghost, and have done with it," he said
+quietly. "Where did my worthy and retrospective landlord hang himself?"
+
+"There," said Walker, indicating a solitary hook screwed through the
+china shelf near the clock. "That bronze thing," pointing to a Burmese
+gong lying on the floor, "used to hang there. He took it down, tied the
+rope to the hook, and kicked a chair away.... If you come here," and he
+advanced a few paces, "you'll see why a ghost appears."
+
+"Mr. Walker," bleated someone timidly.
+
+Mr. Walker unquestionably jumped, and quite as unquestionably swore,
+even when he recognized Betty Jackson, standing in the porch.
+
+"Well, what is it?" he cried gruffly, hoping his companion has missed
+that display of nerves.
+
+"Please, sir, mother thought--" began the girl; but the startled "nut"
+was annoyed, and showed it.
+
+"I don't care what your mother thinks," he shouted. "Refusing me the
+keys, indeed! What next? I've a good mind to report her to Messrs.
+Holloway & Dobb."
+
+"But, sir, she only wanted to make the house a bit more tidy. It's dusty
+and stuffy. If you gentlemen would be kind enough to wait in the garden
+five minutes, I'd open up the rooms, and raise a window here and there."
+
+Betty, tearful and repentant, had entered the hall in her eagerness to
+serve. Walker weakened; he had a soft spot in his heart for girls.
+
+"No matter now," he said. "We shan't be here long. This gentleman is
+just going to look round and see if the place suits him."
+
+"The best bedroom is all upside down," she persisted. "If you'd give me
+three minutes----"
+
+"Run away and play, and don't bother us," he answered off-handedly. "As
+I was about to say, Mr. Armathwaite, someone in the old days put stained
+glass in that window on the landing. You'll notice it shows a knight in
+black armor--Edward, the Black Prince, it's believed to be--and, when
+the sun sets in the nor' west, it casts a strong shadow on the paneling
+beside the clock. Of course, it can be seen from the porch, and it
+accounts for this silly story about the ghost----"
+
+"Oh!" screamed the girl. "Why talk of such horrid things? There's no
+ghost!"
+
+Her cry was so unexpectedly shrill that Walker yielded to an anger
+almost as loud-voiced.
+
+"Confound you!" he stormed at her; "take yourself off! One more word
+from you, and your mother loses her job."
+
+Armathwaite looked into the girl's troubled face and saw there a fear, a
+foreboding, which were very real, if not to be accounted for readily.
+
+"Kindly leave us," he said. "If I want Mrs. Jackson, or you, I'll call
+at the cottage."
+
+There was an air of authority about Mr. Armathwaite that disconcerted
+Betty more than Walker's bluster. She went out and closed the front
+door. The agent ran and opened it again. The girl was standing on the
+path, clear of the porch, and gazing wistfully at the house.
+
+"Will you mind your own business?" he grumbled. "The deuce take it,
+what's come to you to-day? You and your mother seem half crazy."
+
+"We don't like folk to see the place at its worst," she said, rather
+defiantly.
+
+"You're doing your best to turn Mr. Armathwaite against it, _I_ should
+think," was the angry comment. "Now, don't touch this door again, and
+clear out, d'ye hear?"
+
+Betty flushed. She was distressed, but dales' blood boils quickly when
+subjected to the fire of contumely.
+
+"I haven't asked such a favor," she said. "And you might keep a civil
+tongue in your head."
+
+Walker sniffed his annoyance. But why bandy words with this aggressive
+young woman? He swung on his heel.
+
+"Sorry you should have met with such a queer reception, Mr.
+Armathwaite," he said. "I can't account for it. I really can't. Perhaps
+Mrs. Jackson feels hurt that I didn't let her know you were coming,
+but----"
+
+"Never mind Mrs. Jackson or her daughter," said Armathwaite placidly.
+"I'll soon settle matters with them. Now, you have an inventory, I
+believe? Suppose we start here."
+
+"Then you've decided to take the house, sir?"
+
+"Yes, two hours ago, in Nuttonby."
+
+"I wish all our clients were like you," laughed Walker. "You know what
+you want and see that you get it.... Well, sir, as it happens, the
+inventory begins with the hall. I'll read, and you might note the items,
+stopping me if there's any doubt."
+
+The agent rattled through his task, but was pulled up several times in
+dining-room and drawing-room, when a picture or two, some Sheffield
+plate, and various bits of china were missing. Black doubt seized the
+sharp Walker when this had happened for the fourth time. In all, there
+were seven disappearances, and, in each instance, the article was old
+and fairly valuable. Country villages, he reflected, were ransacked
+nowadays by collectors of curios. When opportunity served, he and Mrs.
+Jackson would have some earnest words.
+
+But surprise and relief came in the discovery of the seven; they were
+piled, with a number of books, on a table in the library.
+
+"I suppose some kind of spring cleaning is going on," he said
+sheepishly. "Now the cat is out of the bag. Why the deuce didn't Betty
+say so, and have done with it!"
+
+"I imagine she was trying to tell us something of the sort," smiled the
+other unconcernedly. "Surely we have not got to check the titles of all
+these books?"
+
+"No, sir. They're lumped together--about eight hundred volumes."
+
+Armathwaite surveyed the shelves with the eye of a reader.
+
+"That must be nearly right," he said, after a little pause. "I must not
+get mine mixed with my predecessor's. I've brought nearly two hundred
+myself."
+
+Walker thought of the brown paper parcel, which seemed to have a certain
+solidity, but said nothing. In the first place, if eight hundred books
+occupied so much space, a quarter of that number would fit in no
+ordinary sheet of brown paper. Secondly, Mr. Armathwaite's manner did
+not invite unnecessary questions. The kitchen and scullery were soon
+dealt with. There was coal in a cellar, and a supply of wood, and a
+number of lamps drew attention to some tins of oil.
+
+"How much for this lot?" inquired the would-be tenant.
+
+"Nothing," said Walker, in a sudden fit of generosity. "These stores
+were left by Mrs. Wilkins, and lost sight of during the row. My, what a
+bother she raised!"
+
+"Yet there is no ghost; we have Betty's word for it. Now--the bedrooms."
+
+The "best" bedroom--that in the south-east angle--was certainly not in
+disorder. Indeed, it looked fresher and cleaner than any of the others;
+the bed was spotless; even the window-sill had been dusted recently.
+
+"Of course," said the agent, "those two silly women have been tidying
+things up a bit for the season. I'm getting the hang of things by
+degrees. They're afraid I might think it should have been done sooner."
+
+"Probably," agreed Armathwaite, who, however, held a somewhat different
+view. The girl was not afraid of Mr. James Walker. Of whom, then, or of
+what? If the inquiry interested him he would find out.
+
+The remaining bedrooms held at least one year's dust.
+
+A box-room, lumber-room, and servant's bedroom occupied the second
+floor. In the ceiling of a small lobby there was a trap-door.
+
+"That leads to a space beneath the roof," said Walker. "By the way,
+there ought to be a ladder. It's gone."
+
+Being, as has been seen, of active habit, he brought a chair from the
+bedroom, stood on it, pushed up the flap, and peered into the
+semi-obscurity of a triangular, rafter-lined attic, lighted only by a
+tiny square of glass cemented into one of the flat stone slabs of the
+roof.
+
+"Oh, here it is," he announced. "Shall I pull it out?"
+
+"No, thanks," said Armathwaite. "I don't suppose I shall mount so high
+again during my tenancy."
+
+The younger man closed the trap, and, as it had been unfastened
+previously, shot a bolt into its socket.
+
+"Well, that ends it," he said, brushing some grime off his hands. "If
+you care to stroll through the garden you'll find plenty of fruit coming
+on. This should be a good year for apples and plums, I'm told. It's too
+late to raise any potatoes or vegetables, but the village will supply
+plenty of table stuff, and cheap, too."
+
+"Let me see," mused Armathwaite aloud. "Fifteen pounds rent,
+and, say, two guineas for your fee, and another guinea for the
+conveyance--eighteen pounds three shillings in all. Let us adjourn to
+the library, and I'll pay you, sign the agreement, and initial the
+inventory. Then I need not detain you any longer, Mr. Walker."
+
+The agent looked blank, as well he might. He was flustered, too, by the
+terms offered for his valuable services.
+
+"You don't mean that you're going to stay here straightaway, sir?" he
+cried.
+
+"Yes. I came prepared for immediate occupation. That is why I brought my
+bag, and some groceries."
+
+"Groceries!"
+
+Walker was so astonished that he could only repeat the word.
+
+"That parcel, you know. I'm an old campaigner--that is, I have much
+experience of camping out, under far less pleasant conditions than in a
+delightful house in a Yorkshire village. I shall be quite happy here."
+
+"But there's a kind of an inn not far off; you'll come and have a snack
+there with me, sir?" was all that Walker could find to say at the
+moment.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, but I may not stir out again to-day. Shall we
+go down?"
+
+They descended the stairs, which creaked loudly under their feet. Walker
+was puzzled to understand a cool customer of the Armathwaite type. He
+had never heard of a tenancy being entered into with such promptitude,
+yet there was no point in the stranger's behavior which he could fix on
+as definitely eccentric, or even unusual. The man evidently knew his own
+mind, and, if he paid up, the philosophy of Walker, senior, fitted the
+case admirably.
+
+Still it was a slightly dazed Son who pocketed fifteen pounds in notes
+and three guineas in coin, and gave receipts for these sums, and
+exchanged copies of an agreement, and handed over the keys.
+
+"Take another cigar," said the new tenant, bidding him good-bye at the
+front door, when bag and parcel had been brought in and dumped on the
+hall table. "Oh, there is one other small matter. I left three boxes at
+Nuttonby Station. Here is the voucher. Can you get some carter or farmer
+to bring them here, to-day or to-morrow? I'll pay him well for his
+trouble. They're rather heavy--books, mostly."
+
+Conscious of a subdued feeling which he was wholly unable to explain,
+Walker took the cigar and the printed slip, raised his hat--an action
+which vexed him when he recalled it subsequently--and strolled down to
+the gate and the waiting dog-cart. Rattling the reins to let the pony
+know that he would stand no nonsense, he turned the corner on one wheel,
+and gave not the slightest heed to Betty Jackson's frantic efforts to
+attract his attention. Without slackening pace at the Fox and Hounds
+Inn, he whisked into the Nuttonby road, but pulled up on the crest of
+the first hill.
+
+Looking back at Elmdale, lying snug and content in the blazing sunshine
+of early afternoon, he gazed at the Grange during a full minute. The
+front door was closed. So far as he could make out, no tall figure was
+sauntering in garden or orchard. Then he felt in his breeches pocket, to
+make sure, by the touch of notes and gold, that he was not dreaming.
+
+"Well, I'm jiggered, if this isn't a rum go!" he muttered, and chirruped
+the pony into a trot again.
+
+In the meantime, Mr. Robert Armathwaite had watched his hurried
+departure, in the first instance from the porch and subsequently from
+one of the windows in the dining-room.
+
+"Perhaps I've made a mistake," he communed, with an amused smile, when
+he noted the momentary stopping of the dog-cart outside the village.
+"I've puzzled that young sprig, and I might have avoided that. Not that
+it matters a great deal. His father will inquire at the bank about my
+financial standing, and the pair of them will put me down as a
+well-to-do lunatic. Maybe they will prove right. Who can tell? At any
+rate, I've not felt so content with my lot since I left India. Now for
+some bread and cheese, and a thorough survey of my domain."
+
+He unpacked the brown paper parcel on the kitchen table, and thereby
+proved himself at least well skilled as a caterer. Bacon, flour, bread,
+tea, coffee, sugar--all manner of simple domestic stores were there. He
+had, in fact, gone into a grocer's shop in Nuttonby, produced a written
+list, and asked that the articles named therein should be of the best
+quality and got ready at once.
+
+While munching a frugal meal he bethought himself of the water supply.
+Unlocking the back door, he found the well, and drew a bucket of water,
+which was excellent in quality, and by no means suffering from disuse;
+indeed, he learnt later that the Jacksons and other cottagers took their
+supply from that source.
+
+After a stroll round the garden and orchard--noting the laden gooseberry
+and currant bushes in the one, and several varieties of apples, pears,
+plums, and cherries in the other--he went back to the house. Going
+upstairs, he took possession of the "best" room, and distributed the
+contents of the bag among various drawers and on a dressing-table. A
+large wardrobe contained some feminine garments, old, but of good
+quality, and he left them undisturbed. Examining the bed, he found the
+sheets scrupulously clean and well-aired. To all seeming, they had been
+put there that very day, and he believed that the Jackson family meant
+to accommodate some friend in the Grange for the night, which reasonable
+surmise explained Betty Jackson's anxiety lest any hint of the project
+should reach the agent's ears.
+
+"It's too bad if I've contrived to upset their plans," he mused.
+"They're welcome to any other room, for all that I care, and I'll tell
+them so if I come across either of them this evening."
+
+Nevertheless, meaning to be lord of his own realm, he locked the doors,
+both back and front, when he went for a ramble over the moors. He was
+willing to fall in with any hospitable arrangement the caretakers might
+have in view, but they must consult him, and he refused to have either
+of them prowling about the house in his absence.
+
+He followed the moorland road for some miles, meeting no one, and seeing
+no living creature save hundreds of black-faced sheep. Not even a grouse
+scurried across the heather, for June is the nesting season, and the
+parent birds lie close. Noting the watershed, he found the source of the
+beck which brawled through Elmdale, and tracked it back to the village.
+It was alive with trout and grayling, and his fingers itched for a rod.
+He regretted now that he had not obtained the names of some of the
+riparian landowners from Walker, but realized that the village inn would
+soon yield all the information he needed, and probably contain some of
+the farmers in person that evening.
+
+He reached his new abode, however, somewhat later than he had intended,
+approaching it from the east, which afforded not only a new point of
+view, but enabled him to detect Mrs. Jackson and Betty in a series of
+manoeuvres which were distinctly mysterious when taken into account with
+their earlier attitude.
+
+Obviously, when he emerged from the depths of the tree-lined gill, and
+first caught sight of the house, mother and daughter had just quitted
+the front door, presumably after knocking, and failing to obtain an
+answer. Betty ran out into the road, and gazed up towards the moor.
+Apparently satisfied by her scrutiny of that bare upland she hurried to
+the rear of the premises, and reappeared, carrying a gardener's ladder,
+which she placed against the wall. Giving a rapid glance in the
+direction of the village, she mounted the ladder. It was rather short,
+and she was in some danger of falling, but, by clinging to a creeper,
+she managed to reach a sufficient height that she could peer into the
+bedroom in which Armathwaite had spread his belongings.
+
+She descended again swiftly, took away the ladder, and returned to her
+mother. Both women eyed the upper windows anxiously, and, as the outcome
+of some talk, Betty went to the gate a second time, and looked along the
+bold curve of the moorland road. She shook her head. Her mother joined
+her, and the two went to their cottage.
+
+Armathwaite smiled, and resolved to keep his knowledge of the Jacksons'
+behavior to himself. He did not wish to quarrel with the women, who
+would be useful in many ways. In a day or two, when he had won their
+confidence, they would doubtless explain their queer proceedings; most
+likely, the explanation would prove so simple that it would never occur
+to a suspicious mind.
+
+Having waited to fill his pipe, he entered the village, and walked up
+the narrow path to Mrs. Jackson's abode. He was met at the door by
+Betty. She seemed to be rather alarmed by the visit, yet pleased to see
+him.
+
+"Can we do anything for you, sir?" she said. "Mother and I went to the
+house a while ago, but you were out."
+
+In the oblique Yorkshire way she had partly told the reason of the
+visit. Mrs. Jackson, too, came and stood near her daughter, and it was
+curious to note the underlook of alarm, of poignant anxiety, in both
+faces.
+
+"I wish to make your acquaintance, and to inquire about milk, butter,
+and eggs," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Walker suggested that you might be
+willing to attend to household matters, and that would take a burden off
+my mind."
+
+"We'll be pleased to do it, and reasonable, too, sir," said Mrs. Jackson
+promptly.
+
+"Very well. Come and see me in the morning. Meanwhile, can you arrange
+for a quart of milk, a pound of butter, and a few eggs to be sent in
+immediately?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," said both together, and the expression of relief in the
+one face was mirrored in the other.
+
+"You'll be wanting something cooked now, sir?" went on the older woman,
+with a new cheerfulness of tone, and Armathwaite would have been a far
+less capable student of human nature than he was had he failed to see
+that a much desired entry to the house was now regarded as an assured
+thing. Suddenly he made up his mind to solve the enigma, whatever it
+might be, since the theory of a spare bed being in request did not seem
+to fit the case.
+
+"No," he said carelessly, treating the proposal as of slight import, one
+way or the other. "I wish to be alone this evening. But you can come in
+early to-morrow. Isn't there a spare key?"
+
+"Yes, sir," broke in the girl, for her mother was utterly nonplussed
+again. "It's on the bunch with the others."
+
+He produced the keys from his pocket, and saw that there were two alike.
+
+"One of these?" he inquired, meeting the girl's eyes in a steady glance.
+Then he was sure of his ground. She was so excited that she could hardly
+answer. He gave her the key, ascertained that she would bring the milk
+and the rest in a few minutes, and left the two women staring after him.
+
+Betty was as good as her word. She made no attempt to prolong her stay,
+but deposited her purchases on the hall-table, and promised that she or
+her mother would come about seven in the morning.
+
+"Will you need to be called, sir?" she inquired, as an afterthought.
+
+"Well, yes. I'm a sound sleeper," he assured her gravely.
+
+The statement was true, but it required qualification. A man who had
+slept many a night under conditions that demanded instant wakefulness if
+any sinister sound threatened his very existence, did not rank in the
+class of sound sleepers known to quiet Elmdale.
+
+Thereafter he cooked a meal of eggs and bacon, tea and toast, smoked,
+rambled in the garden, read, thought a good deal, and went to bed.
+
+The light in his room was extinguished soon after ten o'clock. About
+half-past eleven, little more than twelve hours from the time he had
+first heard of "the house 'round the corner," he was aroused by a loud
+crash in the hall. He was up in an instant, laughing at the success of a
+booby trap compacted of the Burmese gong, some thread, and a piece of
+wood set as a trigger. His feet were not on the floor before the front
+door banged, and, hurrying to the window, he saw Betty Jackson flying
+down the path for dear life. He could not be mistaken. In that northern
+latitude a midsummer night is never wholly dark. He not only recognized
+the girl, but could note her heaving shoulders as she sobbed
+hysterically in her flight.
+
+"I'm sorry if you're badly scared, my country maid, but you asked for
+it," he said aloud. "Now I think I'll be left to undisturbed slumber
+till seven o'clock."
+
+Therein he erred. He had not quitted the window, being held by the
+solemn beauty of the gray landscape, ere a heavy thud, and then another,
+and yet a third, reached his ears. He might not have localized the
+first, but its successors came unmistakably from the attic. After a few
+seconds, the three knocks were repeated, and now he adjudged them to the
+precise bounds of the trap-door.
+
+Slipping an automatic pistol into the pocket of his pyjama suit--merely
+as a precaution against the unforeseen, though he was a man devoid of
+fear, he took an electric torch from a drawer, but knew better than to
+bring it into use until its glare would disconcert others--not himself.
+He thrust his bare feet into slippers, unlocked the bedroom door, and
+passed out on to the landing.
+
+"Now to unveil Isis!" he thought, as he felt for the first step of the
+upward stairway. It needed one of steel nerve and fine courage to creep
+about a strange house in the dark--a house where ill deeds had been
+done, and in which their memories lurked--but Robert Armathwaite had
+gone through experiences which reduced the present adventure to the
+proportions of a somewhat startling prank, closely akin to the success
+of the stratagem which had routed Betty Jackson.
+
+And, as he mounted the stairs, keeping close to the wall, and thus
+preventing the old boards from creaking, again came those ominous
+knocks, louder, more insistent; but whether threatening or merely
+clamorous he could not decide--yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A MIDNIGHT SEANCE
+
+
+Armathwaite had a foot on the upper landing when a stifled sob reached
+his ears, and a determined, almost angry, stamping or hammering shook
+the trap-door. One element, then, of the mystery attached to this
+reputedly ghost-ridden house was about to be dispelled. When James
+Walker shot the bolt which rendered the door as unyielding as the stout
+rafters which incased it, he had unwittingly imprisoned someone in the
+attic loft; and the someone, tiring of imprisonment, was making loud
+demand for release. Moreover, Betty Jackson was in the secret. She knew
+of the intruder's presence, but had not learnt the particular mode of
+concealment adopted--hence her renewed efforts to gain admission, her
+use of the ladder, and her somewhat daring visit during the dead hours
+of the night.
+
+Now, Armathwaite scouted the notion of a couple of village women like
+Mrs. Jackson and her daughter being in league with midnight robbers, or
+worse. Even if some thievery was in prospect, they could not possibly
+have arranged that certain unknown miscreants should hide beneath the
+roof, since the arrival of Walker with an unexpected tenant was
+evidently the last thing they had dreamed of.
+
+Therefore, smiling at the humor of the incident, he had to simulate a
+sternness he was far from feeling when he cried:
+
+"Stop making that noise! Who are you, and how did you come to get
+yourself locked in in this way?"
+
+"Please let me out!" came the muffled reply. "I'll explain everything--I
+will, indeed!"
+
+Thereupon, Armathwaite was more surprised than ever. The appeal, though
+tearful and husky, was precisely opposite in character to that which he
+anticipated. He looked for gruff entreaty in the accents of the country
+of broad acres. What he actually heard was a cultured voice, a voice
+with a singularly soft and musical enunciation, and its note was of
+complaint rather than petition.
+
+"All right!" he cried, hardly suppressing a laugh. "I'll bring a chair
+and draw the bolt. I suppose you can lower the ladder yourself?"
+
+"Of course I can--I drew it up!"
+
+Again, the answer did not fit in with the conditions. But Armathwaite
+secured the same chair which Walker had used, pressed the button of the
+electric torch, and, having forced the bolt out of its socket, raised
+the door a few inches.
+
+"Catch hold!" he said. "I'll show you a light."
+
+The door was lifted, and he glimpsed a beardless face peering from the
+inner void. He sprang to the floor, put the chair on one side, and
+awaited developments. Soon the ladder appeared, and was adjusted. Then
+came two neat but strong brown brogues, with slim-ankled black stockings
+to match, and the turned-up ends of a pair of gray, flannel trousers.
+The owner of these articles of attire sat for an instant on the edge of
+the trap, as though reluctant to descend further, and Armathwaite
+noticed, to his very great bewilderment, that the black stockings were
+of silk.
+
+"Will you kindly promise not to grab my legs as I come down?" said the
+voice.
+
+"I have not the slightest desire to grab your legs, or your neck, for
+that matter, if you behave yourself," said Armathwaite.
+
+"You don't understand, of course," came the curiously dignified protest;
+"but I am not misbehaving myself, and have no intention of so doing.
+This ridiculous thing would not have happened if that silly young fop
+had not fastened the trap-door. I can't imagine why he did it. It was no
+business of his, at any rate. And may I ask who _you_ are?"
+
+"I'll answer all polite inquiries, and, it may be, put a few on my own
+account, when you favor me with a closer view," said Armathwaite, not
+without a tinge of sarcasm in his politeness.
+
+"Oh, this is too stupid for words!" was the petulant reply, and the
+speaker swung into sight. The ladder was tilted steeply, and the steps
+were narrow. Apparently, the young gentleman in a gray flannel suit who
+materialized in this manner preferred to gaze at his rescuer rather than
+adopt the safer method of descent which involved a momentary turning of
+his back. Possibly, too, he was more nervous than his remarks betokened,
+for he was yet some distance from the floor when the lower-most foot
+slipped, and he fell. The toe of the other foot caught in a rung, and he
+was thrown violently into Armathwaite's arms, who, to save him from
+pitching headlong downstairs, had to clutch him with some force,
+whereupon the torch dropped, and the two were enfolded by a pall of
+darkness that seemed to have an actual quality of tangibleness.
+
+"Oh!" shrieked the youth, now thoroughly frightened, "please don't hurt
+me! I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't really!"
+
+Armathwaite's senses were steeped in the very essence of wonderment; he
+knew now that he was clasping a woman to his breast, hugging her most
+energetically, too, and the knowledge was at once disconcerting and
+irritating. But he had acquired the faculty long ago of remaining
+impassive in circumstances calling for rigid self-control, so he merely
+said, with curt reassurance:
+
+"If you'll not make such a row, and stand still, I'll find that
+confounded torch and shed a light on the situation."
+
+He stooped, and groped on the floor, being aware that the girl was
+panting with ill-repressed alarm the while. Luckily, his fingers soon
+closed on the nickel cylinder, and the almost overwhelming gloom was
+banished.
+
+"Do you think you can manage to walk downstairs without stumbling, or
+shall I hold your arm?" he inquired, and the somewhat taunting question,
+no less than his obvious disregard of his companion's terror, supplied a
+needed tonic.
+
+"The ladder was steep and slippery," she said tremulously. "The stairs
+offer no difficulty, so I can dispense with your assistance, thanks."
+
+Certainly this young person's way of expressing herself differed in
+every essential from her distinctly agitated state. She was not yet
+aware of the innate chivalry of the man in refraining from thrusting the
+torch close to her face and staring at her, but already her panic was
+subsiding, and she turned and hurried away so quickly that Armathwaite
+thought she meant to escape.
+
+"Just one moment!" he said, though not making the least effort to detain
+her otherwise. "Are there any more of you up here?"
+
+His sheer unconcern could not fail to lessen her agitation still
+further, and she halted on the next landing.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried. Despite her qualms, she still maintained
+a curious attitude of defiance, as if she, and not the house's lawful
+tenant, had most cause to feel aggrieved.
+
+"Exactly what I said. Were you alone in that attic?"
+
+"Of course I was. What a question!"
+
+"A natural one, from my point of view. I was sound asleep, when your
+ally, Betty Jackson, kicked up a din in the hall, and you began pounding
+on the trap-door."
+
+"Poor Betty! Is she here? Betty! Betty!"
+
+Leaning over the banisters, she peered into the blackness beneath. There
+was a glimmer of spectral light here, for a late-rising moon was adding
+to the silvery brightness of a perfect night, and some of its radiance
+was piercing the stained glass. Armathwaite noted her action with
+increasing bewilderment.
+
+"Betty fled as though she were pursued by seven devils," he said, when
+no other answer came to her cry. "I guessed at some mischief being
+afoot, so planned a surprise for anyone crossing the hall without my
+knowledge. No matter what her earlier opinions, Betty believes in that
+ghost now."
+
+"Ghost! What ghost? There is no ghost here. Do you think to scare me
+with a bogey, like a naughty child?"
+
+They were descending the broad stairs of the lower flight together, and
+Armathwaite had stolen one glance at the lissom young figure. He was
+minded to smile at a cunningly-hidden safety pin which kept a
+broad-brimmed fisherman's hat of heather mixture cloth in position so
+that the girl's hair was concealed. The coat hung rather loosely on
+slender shoulders, but the disguise was fairly effective in other
+respects, and the masquerader moved with an easy grace that betokened a
+good walker.
+
+"I have not occupied the house many hours, but I have come to the
+conclusion that it harbors certain strange fantasies," he said, taking
+the lead, and stopping to break a thread stretched across the foot of
+the stairs. "We'll find a lamp and matches in the dining-room," he
+added. "Suppose we go there and discuss matters?"
+
+"Isn't it rather late? Whatever time is it?" was the hesitating comment.
+
+"And aren't you rather hungry?" he replied, ignoring both questions.
+
+"I'm simply ravenous. I haven't eaten a morsel since six o'clock this
+morning."
+
+"I can offer you bread and butter and milk. Shall I boil you some eggs?"
+
+"If you mention food again, I shall drop. Please, what time is it?"
+
+"Nearly midnight."
+
+"Oh, I must be going! I must, really. The Jacksons will find me
+something to eat."
+
+"You're going into that room, and, unless I have your promise to remain
+there, you'll accompany me to the kitchen. Which is it to be--a
+comfortable chair, with a lamp, or a compulsory prowl through kitchen
+and larder?"
+
+"I'll sit down, please," came the slow admission. "I'm very tired, and
+rather done up. I walked miles and miles this morning, and the long
+hours up there in the dark were horrid."
+
+Without another word Armathwaite threw open the dining-room door, and
+lighted the lamp which he had left on the table. The girl sank wearily
+into an arm-chair; her action was a tacit acceptance of his terms.
+Somehow, he was convinced that she would not take advantage of his
+absence and slip out through the front door, which Betty Jackson had
+assuredly not waited to lock.
+
+Among the kitchen utensils he had found a small oil-stove in working
+order. In a surprisingly short time, therefore, he was back in the
+dining-room with a laden tray.
+
+"Do you like your eggs soft-boiled, medium, or hard?" he inquired,
+treating an extraordinary episode with a nonchalance which betokened
+either a temperament wholly devoid of emotion or a career crowded with
+uncommon experiences.
+
+"Need I eat eggs at all?" said the girl. "I'm sure, Mrs. Jackson----"
+
+"Do you want to rouse the village?"
+
+"No; anything but that."
+
+"Then I must point out that the one cottage in Elmdale whose inmates
+will be deaf and dumb at this moment is Mrs. Jackson's. Both mother and
+daughter are quaking because of the possible consequences of an attempt
+to enter this house at an hour which no person could choose for a
+legitimate purpose. Eat and drink, therefore. We'll deal with the
+Jacksons subsequently. No, don't begin by a long draught of milk. It is
+tempting, but harmful if taken in that way. Try some bread and butter.
+Now, two eggs. Oh, dash it! I've forgotten an egg-spoon, and I don't
+know where such things are kept. I'll go and hunt for them."
+
+"Don't trouble. Lend me that electric lamp--how useful it is!--and I'll
+bring one in a minute."
+
+By this time Armathwaite had seen that his captive was a remarkably
+pretty girl. Male attire supplies the severest test of feminine beauty,
+since form and feature are deprived of adventitious aids; but a small,
+oval face, two pouting lips, a finely-modeled nose, brilliant brown
+eyes, swept by long curved lashes, and a smooth forehead, rising above
+arched and well-marked eyebrows, needed no art of milliner or dressmaker
+to enhance their charms. She was fairly tall, too--though dwarfed by
+Armathwaite's six feet and an inch of height in his slippered feet--and
+admirably proportioned, if slender and lithe. Evidently, she thought he
+had not penetrated her disguise, and was momentarily becoming more
+self-possessed. Again, she had some explanation of her presence in the
+house which could not fail of acceptance, and did not scruple,
+therefore, to display a close acquaintance with its arrangements denied
+to one who admittedly had taken up his abode there only that day.
+
+The man listened to her quick, confident steps going to the kitchen,
+heard the rattle of a drawer in an antique dresser which stood there,
+and, with an emphatic gesture, seemed to appeal to the gods ere he bent
+over the stove to see if the water was yet a-boil.
+
+The girl might be hungry, but feminine curiosity proved stronger than
+the urgent claims of an empty stomach. She went into the larder, and
+undoubtedly eyed the new tenant's stores. She implied as much when she
+re-entered the dining-room.
+
+"Boiled eggs require pepper and salt," she explained. "You've got so
+many little paper bags that I didn't dare rummage among them, so I've
+secured a cruet which was left here when my--when the people who used to
+live here went away. The salt may be a bit damp, but the pepper should
+be all right."
+
+Without more ado she tackled a slice of bread, breaking it into small
+pieces, and buttering each piece separately before munching it.
+
+"Some wise person said in a newspaper the other day that one ought to
+give every mouthful of bread three hundred bites," she went on. "I
+wonder if he ever fasted eighteen hours before practicing his own
+precept. I'm afraid I wouldn't believe him if he said he did."
+
+"People who study their digestion generally die young," said Armathwaite
+drily.
+
+"Oh, I don't agree with you in that," she retorted. "My dad is great on
+food theories. He knows all about proteins and carbohydrates; he can
+tell you to a fourth decimal the caloric value of an egg; and _he's_ a
+phenomenally healthy person. By the way, how are those eggs coming on?"
+
+"Try this one. I think the water has been boiling three minutes!"
+
+Armathwaite spoke calmly enough, but a stoutly-built edifice of
+circumstantial evidence had just crumbled in ruins about his ears. He
+was persuaded that, for some reason best known to herself, Miss
+Marguerite Garth had adopted this freakish method of revisiting her old
+home. Such a thesis made all things plausible. It explained her
+singularly self-contained pose, her knowledge of the house's contents,
+her wish to remain hidden from prying eyes, and, last but not least, it
+brought the peculiar conduct of the Jackson family into a commonplace
+category, for the two women would be governed by a clannish feeling
+which is almost as powerful in rural Yorkshire as in Scotland. A girl
+who had lived nearly all her life in the village would be looked on as a
+native. She might appeal confidently for their help and connivance in
+such a matter.
+
+But this girl's father was alive, and Marguerite Garth's father had been
+in a suicide's grave two years. Who, then, was the audacious young lady
+now assuring him that he could boil eggs admirably? He was puzzled anew,
+almost piqued, because he flattered himself on a faculty for guessing
+accurately at the contents of a good many closed pages in a human
+document after a glance at the outer cover and its endorsement. He was
+spurred to fresh endeavor. He wanted to solve this riddle before its
+baffling intricacies were made plain by the all-satisfying statement
+which his companion obviously had it in mind to give.
+
+"Won't you remove your hat?" he said, thinking to perplex her by a
+mischievous request.
+
+"No, thanks," she said blithely. "I'll just demolish this second egg.
+Then I'll tell you why I am here, and awaken Mrs. Jackson, no matter
+what her neighbors may think. But, why wait? I can eat and talk--put the
+facts in an eggshell, so to speak. My relatives own this house. Mr.
+Garth has long wanted a few books and knick-knacks, and I've come to get
+them. Some are collected already on the library table; the remainder
+I'll gather in the morning, with your permission. But I don't wish my
+visit to be known to others than Mrs. Jackson and Betty, and that is why
+I retreated to the loft when you and Mr. Walker arrived. It was a bother
+that anyone should select this day in particular to visit the property;
+but I imagined you would go away in an hour or so. Even when that vain
+young person, James Walker, locked me in, I believed Betty would come
+and release me after your departure. Besides, I wouldn't for worlds have
+let Walker see me. I--er--dislike him too much."
+
+Armathwaite allowed to pass without comment her real motive for refusing
+to meet sharp-eyed James Walker; but again the problem of her identity
+called insistently for solution. If she was not Marguerite Garth, who on
+earth was she?
+
+"Let me understand," he began. "The owner, and former occupant, of this
+house, was Mr. Stephen Garth?"
+
+"Is," she corrected. "It remains his property, though he is living
+elsewhere."
+
+Armathwaite so far forgot himself as to whistle softly between his
+teeth. And, indeed, such momentary impoliteness might be excused by his
+bewilderment. If Stephen Garth, who had owned and occupied the Grange,
+was still living, who was the man whose ghost had excited Elmdale, and
+driven back to prosaic Sheffield a certain Mrs. Wilkins, of nervous
+disposition and excitable habit?
+
+"Ah!" he said judicially. "Messrs. Walker & Son, of Nuttonby, are his
+agents and Messrs. Holloway & Dobb, also of Nuttonby, his solicitors?"
+
+"I suppose so," said the girl, deep in the second egg.
+
+"But I understood that Mr. Stephen Garth had only one child, a
+daughter."
+
+"Isn't he allowed to have a nephew, or an assorted lot of cousins?"
+
+"Such contingencies are permissible, but they don't meet the present
+case."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, my dear young lady, anyone with half an eye in their head
+could see that you are a girl masquerading in a man's clothes. Now, who
+are you? I am entitled to ask. I have certain legal rights as the tenant
+of this house during the forthcoming three months, and as you have
+broken the law in more ways than you imagine, perhaps, I want to be
+enlightened before I condone your various offenses."
+
+The girl was holding a glass of milk to her lips, and drank slowly until
+the glass was emptied; but her eyes met Armathwaite's over the rim, and
+they were dilated with apprehension, for a heedless prank was spreading
+into realms she had never dreamed of.
+
+"Does it really matter who I am?" she managed to say quietly, though
+there was a pitiful flutter in her voice, and the hand which replaced
+the tumbler on the table shook perceptibly.
+
+"Yes, it matters a great deal," he said. With a generosity that was now
+beginning to dawn on her, he averted his gaze, and scrutinized a colored
+print on the wall.
+
+"But why?" she persisted.
+
+"Because I am convinced that you are Mr. Stephen Garth's daughter."
+
+She drew a deep breath, and he was aware instantly that she was hovering
+on the verge of candid confession. She moved uneasily, propped her
+elbows on the table, and concealed some part of her features by placing
+her clenched fists against her cheeks.
+
+"Well, what if I am?" she said at last, with a touch of the earlier
+defiance in her voice.
+
+"Are you? Please answer outright."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your father is alive?"
+
+"Of course he is!"
+
+"Mother, too?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do they know you are here?"
+
+"No. For some reason, they have taken a dislike to Elmdale, and hardly
+ever mention it, or the Grange, for that matter. Yet my poor old dad is
+such a creature of habit that he is always missing something--a book, a
+favorite picture, a bit of china, and I schemed to come here, pack a few
+of the articles he most values, and have them sent to our cottage in
+Cornwall. Once they're there, they couldn't very well be sent back,
+could they? But as my people have forbidden me ever to speak of or come
+near Elmdale, I didn't quite know how to manage it, until I hit on the
+notion of impersonating Percy Whittaker, the brother of a friend with
+whom I have been staying in Cheshire. Percy would do anything for me,
+but there was no sense in sending him, was there? He would be sure to
+bungle things awfully, so I borrowed his togs, and traveled all night to
+a station on the other side of the moor--and nobody--thought--I was--a
+girl--except you--and Betty, of course. She--knew me--at once."
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't cry. I believe you--every word. But did you
+travel from Cheshire in that rig-out?"
+
+"No, oh, no! I wore a mackintosh, and a lady's hat. They're hanging in
+the hall. I took them off while crossing the moor."
+
+"A mackintosh!"
+
+"Yes. Don't be horrid! I turned up my trousers, of course."
+
+"I'm not being horrid. I want to help you. You walked--how many miles?"
+
+"Fourteen."
+
+"And breakfasted at York?"
+
+"Yes. You see, Betty would have brought me some lunch. Then _you_ came."
+
+"The bedroom was prepared for your use, then?"
+
+"Yes. It's my room, really. Dad likes to sleep with his head to the
+west, and that is where the door is in that room."
+
+"Poor girl! I would have given a good deal that this thing should not
+have happened. But we must make the best of a bad job. Now, I hope
+you'll accept my advice. Let me go upstairs and remove the clothes I
+shall need in the morning. Then you retire there, lock the door, and
+sleep well till Betty comes."
+
+"Oh, I can't! You are very kind, but I _must_ go to Mrs. Jackson now."
+
+She had blushed and paled in alternate seconds. Half rising, she sank
+back into the chair again; though the table was between them, the
+wearing of a boy's clothes was not quite so easy a matter as it had
+seemed earlier. The one thing she did not guess was that this
+serious-faced man was far more troubled by thoughts of a reputed ghost
+than by an escapade which now loomed large in her mind.
+
+"I'm half inclined to make you obey me," he said angrily, gazing at her
+now with fixed and troubled eyes.
+
+"But you've been so good and kind," she almost sobbed. "Why should you
+be vexed with me now? I've told you the truth, I have, indeed."
+
+"That is precisely the reason why I am sure you ought not to risk
+arousing the village to-night."
+
+"But I won't. I'll tap at the window. Betty knows I'm here, somewhere,
+and she'll let me in at once."
+
+Armathwaite was at his wits end to decide on the sanest course. A man
+less versed than he in the complexities of life would have counseled her
+retreat to the cottage as the only practicable means of escape from a
+position bristling with difficulties; but some subtle and intuitive
+sense warned him that Marguerite Garth should, if possible, leave
+Elmdale without the knowledge which credited that house with a veritable
+ghost.
+
+"It's long after midnight," he persisted. "I'll have a snooze in a
+chair, and meet Betty Jackson before you show up. You can trust me
+absolutely to explain things to her."
+
+"You forget that she is worrying dreadfully about me. Please let me go!"
+
+"Very well," he said, driven to the half measures he had learnt to
+detest. "Promise me this--that you'll go straight to bed, and come here
+for breakfast without any conversation with the Jacksons."
+
+The girl showed her relief, not unmixed with surprise at a
+strangely-worded stipulation.
+
+"I'll do that," she said, after a little pause.
+
+"Mind you--no talk. Just 'Good-night, I'm dead tired,' and that sort of
+thing."
+
+"Yes," she agreed again, wonderingly.
+
+"And the same in the morning?"
+
+"I'll do my best."
+
+"Off with you, then! I'll come to the door, and stand there, in case
+you're challenged by anybody."
+
+"There's little fear of that in Elmdale at this hour," she said, with a
+new cheerfulness. He turned, ostensibly to pick up the electric torch.
+She was out in the hall instantly; when he rejoined her she was wearing
+the mackintosh.
+
+"Good-night!" she said. "Next to dad, you're the nicest man I've ever
+met, and I don't even know your name."
+
+"I'll introduce myself at breakfast," he growled, extinguishing the
+torch as he opened the door. He watched her swift run down the curving
+path to the gate, and heard her footsteps as she hurried into the
+village street. The night was so still that he knew when she turned into
+the front garden of the cottage, and he caught the tapping on a window,
+which, beginning timidly, soon grew more emphatic, perhaps more
+desperate.
+
+Some minutes passed. He could see the back of the cottage, and no gleam
+of light shone in any of its tiny windows. Then followed some decided
+thumping on a door, but the tenement might have been an empty barn for
+all the response that was forthcoming.
+
+Finally, he was aware of slow feet climbing dejectedly up the hill, and
+the garden gate creaked.
+
+"I can't make anybody hear," wailed a tearful voice.
+
+Armathwaite was even more surprised than the girl at this dramatic
+verification of his prophecy, but he availed himself of it as
+unscrupulously as any Delphic oracle.
+
+"I told you so," he said. "Now, come in and go to bed!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SHOWING HOW EXPLANATIONS DO NOT ALWAYS EXPLAIN
+
+
+Though weary and distrait, Marguerite Garth was of too frank a
+disposition to allow such an extraordinary incident to pass without
+comment. She halted in the porch by Armathwaite's side, and gazed
+blankly at the silent cottage.
+
+"You spoke of a ghost," she murmured brokenly. "I'm beginning to think
+myself that I am bewitched. What can have happened? Why won't Betty or
+her mother let me in?"
+
+"I'll have much pleasure in clearing up that trivial mystery about eight
+o'clock in the morning," he said with due gravity, fearing lest any
+attempt to relieve the situation by a joke might have the disastrous
+effect often achieved by a would-be humorist when a perplexed woman on
+the verge of tears is the subject of his wit. "Now, if you'll wait in
+the dining-room till I collect my garments, you'll be in bed and asleep
+within five minutes."
+
+He gave her no further opportunity for argument or protestation. Closing
+and locking the door, he left the key in the lock, whereas, by virtue of
+the arrangement with Betty Jackson, it had reposed previously on the
+hall-table. In a few seconds he bustled in with an armful of clothes and
+a pair of boots. Handing over the torch, he said cheerfully:
+
+"Now, leave everything to me, and you'll be astonished to find how all
+your woes will vanish by daylight. Good-night, and sleep well!"
+
+Then the girl did a strange thing. She held the torch close to his face,
+and looked at him unflinchingly.
+
+"I am very fortunate in having met a man like you," she said, and,
+without another word, turned and mounted the stairs. He waited until the
+bedroom door closed, and listened for the click of a lock, but listened
+in vain.
+
+"It would appear that I'm still able to win the confidence of children
+and dogs," he muttered, smiling grimly. Then he made a pillow of his
+clothes on a couch beneath the window, and, such was the force of habit,
+was asleep quite soon. A glint of sunlight reflected from the glass in a
+picture woke him at four o'clock. After glancing at his watch, he slept
+again, and was aroused the next time by the crunch of feet on the
+graveled path outside. He was at the door while Betty Jackson was yet
+trying to insert the key which she had withdrawn and pocketed overnight.
+
+He admitted her, and said good-humoredly:
+
+"I came downstairs when you ran away from a goblin gong, leaving the
+door unlocked. I don't suppose we are in danger of burglary in Elmdale,
+but it is customary to take reasonable precautions."
+
+Betty, who was carrying a jug of milk, flushed till her cheeks resembled
+a ripe russet apple. Denial was useless, but she tried to wriggle.
+
+"I didn't mean any harm, sir," she said. "I only wanted to have a look
+around. The house is so upset."
+
+"Put that milk on the dining-room table," he said.
+
+She obeyed, glad that a dreaded ordeal seemed to have ended ere it had
+well begun. Armathwaite followed, and closed the dining-room door. What
+he really feared was that she might drop the jug, and that the resultant
+crash would awaken his guest before Betty and he had engaged in a
+heart-to-heart talk.
+
+"Now," he said, raising the blind, and flooding the room with clear
+morning light, "I take you for a sensible girl, Betty."
+
+"I hope I am, sir," she answered shyly.
+
+"Have you quite recovered from your fright?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+She reddened again, thinking she knew what was coming. She could have
+dealt with Walker, but glib pertness would not avail when this tall
+stranger's eyes were piercing her very soul. Nevertheless, his tone was
+gentle and reassuring--at first.
+
+"I was ignorant of the real facts, you see, so I had to defend myself,"
+he said. "I know the truth now. Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep. She
+heard the commotion caused by the gong, and could not endure the strain
+and loneliness of that dark garret any longer--"
+
+"Was Miss Meg there--in the loft?" cried Betty, blurting out the first
+vague thought that occurred to her bemused brain, because those words,
+"Miss Garth is upstairs and asleep," swamped her understanding with a
+veritable torrent of significance.
+
+"Yes. She hid there when Mr. Walker and I entered the house, and, by the
+merest chance, she was fastened in. She remained there twelve hours."
+
+"Oh, poor thing! She'd be nearly clemmed to death."
+
+In Yorkshire, "clemmed" means "starved," and "starved" means "perished
+with cold." Armathwaite could follow many of the vernacular phrases, and
+this one did not bother him.
+
+"She was hungry, without doubt," he said, "but I did not send her
+supperless to bed. Now, I have various questions to put before you go to
+her room, and I want straightforward, honest answers. If I am told the
+truth, I shall know how to act for the best in Miss Garth's interests;
+and that is what _you_ wish, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I'm sure none of us had any notion of doing wrong."
+
+"Don't speak so loudly. I want no explanations of your behavior
+yesterday. It would have been wise had you trusted in me at once, but
+that was hardly to be expected, seeing that I was a man fallen from the
+moon.... Why didn't you let Miss Garth enter when she knocked at your
+window and the door last night?"
+
+The girl's eyes opened wide in sheer distress.
+
+"Oh, sir!" she almost whispered; "what time did she come?"
+
+"About midnight."
+
+"There now! I half fancied that such a thing might happen. When I ran
+home, sir, I was fair scairt, because there _has_ been talk of a ghost,
+and I wasn't too keen about coming in here in the dark. But mother was
+worried, and wouldn't go to bed. She would have it that Miss Meg had got
+clear of the house, and was hiding in a shed at the top of the lane. So,
+after a lot of talk, mother and I went there together. There was a light
+in the dining-room as we passed, but it had gone out when we came back."
+
+"Solvitur ambulando," muttered the man, smiling at the simple solution
+of an occurrence which had puzzled him greatly at the time.
+
+"What's that, sir?" demanded Betty.
+
+"Sorry. I was thinking aloud--a bad habit. Those two Latin words mean
+that your walk to the shed disposes of a difficulty. Now for the next
+item, Betty. Miss Meg, as you call her, is the young lady who lived here
+a good many years?"
+
+"She was born here, sir. She and I are nearly of an age--twenty-two,
+each of us."
+
+"And her father was Mr. Stephen Garth?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But isn't he dead?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! Dead and buried two years this very month."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Mother was the first who saw his dead body. She was nearly
+frightened into a fit."
+
+"Tell me the exact facts."
+
+"Well, sir, Mrs. Garth and Miss Meg went away, all of a sudden. There
+was no quarrel that we know of, and Mr. Garth himself helped a man to
+carry out their boxes. They kissed on parting at the gate. I myself
+heard him saying that he would join them as soon as he had finished some
+book he was busy with. He was a great man for writing and studying, and
+he'd walk ten miles to get some granny's tale about dales ways, and the
+things people used to do in the old times. But no sooner had they left
+him than he changed. We all noticed it. He paid off the gardener, and
+dismissed two maids, and lived here alone. That didn't last long. I used
+to bring eggs and milk and things, and he'd take them in at the door.
+He'd talk pleasantly enough, but he looked awful worried. Then, one
+morning, I couldn't make anybody hear, and I thought he had gone out
+early. About seven o'clock that evening mother went and knocked, but
+there was no answer. Next morning it was the same; but when mother and I
+tried again in the evening, we noticed that the curtain, which can be
+drawn across the glass top of the door, had been pulled aside. At the
+inquest they wanted to know if it had been in the same position when we
+were there before, but we couldn't be certain, though we thought it must
+have been drawn. Anyhow, mother looked in, and ran away screaming, and I
+ran after her, not knowing why. In a minute or two she was able to
+speak, and said she had seen Mr. Garth hanging near the clock. Some men
+went, and they saw him clearly, and one of them, Mr. Benson, rode to
+Bellerby for the policeman. He came in about an hour, and broke open the
+door, and cut poor Mr. Garth down. He had been dead a long time, the
+doctor said, and the worst thing was that nobody could find Mrs. Garth
+and Miss Meg. Not that any blame could be laid to them, because Mr.
+Garth himself said so in a letter addressed 'To the Coroner,' which was
+laid at the foot of the clock. We have a weekly paper in the cottage,
+sir, and you can see the whole account there."
+
+"Get that paper, and give it to me privately sometime to-day," said
+Armathwaite. "Meanwhile, your story is ample for my present purpose.
+Were you surprised at seeing Miss Garth yesterday?"
+
+"Sir, you could have knocked me down with a feather. And she in a man's
+clothes, and all. She came over the moor about ten o'clock--"
+
+"Never mind the details now. Did she speak of her father?"
+
+"In a sort of a way, sir."
+
+"Did she give you the impression that he was still living?"
+
+"Now that you mention it, sir, she did, but I couldn't quite understand
+what she said, and thought, for sure, I was mistaken. It wasn't the kind
+of thing one might ask questions about--was it, sir?"
+
+"No, indeed. Knowing he had committed suicide, you didn't like to hurt
+her feelings?"
+
+"That's it, sir, exactly."
+
+"You hadn't much talk, I take it?"
+
+"No, sir. She was all of a shake with excitement, and wanted to be let
+into the house before anyone else in the village could see her. I was to
+leave her alone till one o'clock, she said. Then I was to bring her
+something to eat, and we'd have a long chat. And that's the last I've
+seen of her, sir."
+
+It has been noted that Armathwaite was no lover of the middle way in
+dealing with the hazards of existence. In fact, strength of will and
+inflexibility of purpose had already driven him from place and power to
+the haven of retirement, which he imagined he would find in Elmdale. He
+had made up his mind overnight as to the handling of the problem set by
+Marguerite Garth's presence in her father's house, and he saw no reason
+now why he should depart from the decision reached then.
+
+"You've been very candid, Betty Jackson," he said, looking steadily into
+the girl's wondering eyes, "and I mean to be equally outspoken with you.
+For some cause, which I cannot fathom, and may never inquire into, Miss
+Garth is not only unaware of any recent death in her family, but is
+convinced that her father is alive and well. There is a flaw in the
+argument somewhere, but it is hardly my business, nor yours, to discover
+the weak spot. Now, I propose that we let the young lady leave Elmdale
+as happy in her belief, or her ignorance, as she entered it. In plain
+English, I suggest that neither you, nor I, nor your mother, say one
+syllable about the suicide of Mr. Stephen Garth. If his daughter
+believes he is living, we should be hard put to it to convince her that
+he is dead."
+
+"He _is_ dead, sir. I saw him in his coffin," said Betty earnestly.
+
+"I am not disputing your statement. My sole consideration, at this
+moment, is the happiness of the girl now lying asleep upstairs. Suppose,
+within the next hour or two, she says something about the surprise her
+father will receive when he sees some of the books and other articles
+she means to send to her present home, are you going to tell her that
+she is utterly mistaken--that Mr. Garth has been dead and buried--that
+she is talking like a lunatic?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir! I wouldn't dream of speaking that way to Miss Meg."
+
+"But don't you see, it has to be either one thing or the other. Either
+you accept her view that her father is alive, or you are constantly
+acting in a way that must arouse her suspicions. And, if once she begins
+to question you, what will happen then? You'll be in a ten times more
+difficult position than if you convince yourself, for the time being,
+that you were dreaming when you saw some man in a coffin."
+
+"But I wasn't," persisted Betty. "Why, sir, the whole village knows----"
+
+"I'm not doubting your word in the least. The point at issue is this--do
+you mean to perplex and worry Miss Meg by informing her that her father
+hanged himself in the hall of this very house two years ago?"
+
+"No, sir. That I don't."
+
+"You promise that?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir."
+
+"I'm glad you've come to my way of thinking. Miss Garth will leave here
+to-day, or to-morrow, at the latest. Till then, you must keep guard over
+your tongue. Go now, and tell your mother what I have told you. Make
+her understand the facts most clearly. If she agrees to help you and me
+in this matter, she is to come here and take up a housekeeper's duties.
+I'll pay her and you well for your services, but my instructions must be
+carried out to the letter. If she refuses, or feels unable, to obey my
+wishes in this matter, she is not to cross the threshold. Do you
+understand that fully?"
+
+Armathwaite could be tersely emphatic in speech and manner when he
+chose. He had taken Betty Jackson into his confidence, but he had also
+expressed his intentions in a way that left her in no doubt as to the
+result if any lack of discretion on her part, or her mother's, led to a
+crisis. He had gauged the situation to a nicety. Mrs. Jackson and her
+daughter were well disposed towards Marguerite Garth, but there was no
+harm in stilling their tongues through the forceful medium of
+self-interest.
+
+When the two came back together within a few minutes he knew that he had
+swept immediate obstacles from the path. Mrs. Jackson was a shrewd
+Yorkshire woman, and needed no blare of trumpets to inform her on which
+side her bread was buttered.
+
+"Good morning, sir," she cried cheerfully. "Betty has told me what you
+said, and I think you're quite right. What time do you want breakfast,
+and what'll you have cooked?"
+
+Armathwaite nodded his satisfaction.
+
+"We three will get along famously," he laughed. "Now, Betty, put some
+water in one of the bedrooms, and, when you call Miss Garth, get my
+dressing-case, which is on the table, and bring it to me. She will
+answer your mother's questions about breakfast. Any hour that suits her
+will suit me. And let us all look as pleasant as though there wasn't
+such a thing as a ghost within a thousand miles of Elmdale."
+
+The chance phrase reminded him of the elder Walker's words: "Elmdale is
+eight miles from Nuttonby, and thousands from every other town." Yet,
+remote as was this moor-edge hamlet, a sordid tragedy had been enacted
+there. Someone had died in that house under circumstances which called
+imperatively for a most searching inquiry. A daylight phantom had
+replaced the grim specter which credulous villagers were wont to see on
+a summer's eve. Was it his business to exorcise the evil spirit? He did
+not know. He closed his eyes resolutely to that side of the difficulty.
+Marguerite Garth must be sent on her way first; then he would make a
+guarded investigation into the history of the man whom Mrs. Jackson had
+seen "hanging near the clock."
+
+When summoned to the dining-room he received a shock. Man-like, he had
+pictured his unbidden guest as he had seen her the previous night. Now
+he was greeted by a smiling and prepossessed young lady, who had
+extracted a muslin gown from the stock in the wardrobe, and whose
+piquant face was crowned by a wealth of brown hair. The presence of
+woman's chief adornment naturally enhanced the girl's remarkable beauty.
+In defiance, too, of certain modern laws of hygiene--or perhaps because
+she couldn't help it, being built that way--she had a very slim waist.
+Last night she would have passed in a crowd for a boy of slender
+physique; this morning she was adorably feminine. During fifteen years
+of strenuous work in the East, Armathwaite had never given a thought to
+the opposite sex. He had seen little of his country-women, for the
+Indian frontier is not a haven for married officers, and he personally
+would have regarded a wife as a positive hindrance to his work; so it
+was a singular fact that his first reflection now should be that a
+certain Percy Whittaker, whom, in all probability, he would never set
+eyes on, was a person to be envied. He almost scowled at the absurdity
+of the notion, and the girl, extending her hand, caught the fleeting
+expression.
+
+"Aren't you pleased to see me?" she cried. "I made sure you were aching
+for my appearance. Betty tells me you were up and about before she
+arrived, and I have been an unconscionable time dressing; you must be
+pining for breakfast."
+
+"You shall not rob me of a chance of saying that I am glad to see you by
+that unnecessary tag about breakfast," he said.
+
+"But isn't it an awful bore to find you have a girl lodger? Poor man!
+You hire a house in the country for a fishing holiday, and fate condemns
+you to play host!"
+
+"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have
+entertained angels unawares," he quoted.
+
+"Is that from Proverbs?"
+
+"No. It occurs in a certain epistle to the Hebrews."
+
+She knitted her brows.
+
+"I thought so," she said. "I'm rather good at Proverbs, and I don't
+remember that one. If you meant to give me a nasty knock you might have
+reminded me that it is better to dwell in a corner of the house-top than
+with a brawling woman in a wide house.... Do you like coffee, or tea?"
+
+"Both."
+
+"Mixed? Mrs. Jackson didn't know your tastes, so I told her to be
+extravagant."
+
+"I'll try the coffee, please."
+
+It was an odd sensation to find himself seated at table with such a
+vivacious companion. Marguerite Garth had evidently banished her
+overnight experiences into the limbo of yesterday's seven thousand
+years. She could not have smiled more gayly, or been more at ease with a
+friend of long standing.
+
+"Betty and I have been exchanging impressions about you," she rattled
+on. "We agree that you're not half so severe as you look. But I'm not
+such a marvelous guesser as you are, so, will you tell me what I'm to
+call you?"
+
+"Bob."
+
+"Mr. Bob?"
+
+"I don't mean that my name rhymes with Lobb, or Dobb or Hobb. Bob is a
+diminutive of Robert."
+
+"But Robert what?"
+
+"No, just Bob."
+
+"Don't be silly. You must have another name."
+
+"The name on Mr. Walker's register is such a mouthful--Armathwaite, if
+you _will_ have it."
+
+"What a queer way to put it! 'On Mr. Walker's register.' Isn't it your
+real name?"
+
+"There! I was sure you would say that. Why not be content with blunt and
+honest-sounding Bob?"
+
+"Shall we establish a sort of cousinship? You're Bob and I'm Meg."
+
+"That would be a most excellent beginning, Meg."
+
+She laughed delightedly.
+
+"We're having quite an adventure!" she cried. "It sounds like a chapter
+out of an exciting novel. I hope you didn't think I was rude about your
+other name--the long one--Bob! You see, I used to be Meg Garth, but now
+I'm Meg Ogilvey. I'm hardly accustomed to the Ogilvey yet, but I rather
+like it. Don't you?"
+
+Armathwaite's face darkened, and he swallowed a piece of bacon without
+giving it even one of the twenty-nine bites recommended by dietists as a
+minimum.
+
+"Why, that makes you look at me black as thunder," she vowed. "It's a
+quite simple matter. My people came into some money when we left
+Elmdale, and the Ogilvey was part of the legacy. It reaches us from the
+maternal side of the family, and the change was easy enough for dad,
+because he always wrote under the pen-name of Stephen Ogilvey."
+
+"Stephen Ogilvey--the man who is an authority on folk-lore?"
+
+The genuine surprise in his voice evidently pleased his hearer.
+
+"Yes. How thrilling that you should recognize him! That is real fame,
+isn't it?--to be regarded as top-dog in your particular line. But you
+seemed to be angry when I told you about it."
+
+"I thought you were married," he said, secretly quaking at his own
+temerity.
+
+Again she knitted her brows in a rather fascinating effort to appear
+sagacious.
+
+"I don't quite see----" she began. Then she stopped suddenly.
+
+"You think that if I were married I wouldn't be quite such a tom-boy--is
+that it?" she went on.
+
+"No. You've failed so badly in your interpretation of my thought that I
+dare hardly tell you its true meaning."
+
+"Please do. I hate to misunderstand people."
+
+"Well, I'll try and explain. You have not forgotten, I hope, that I have
+already described you as an angel?"
+
+"Your quotation wasn't a bit more applicable than mine."
+
+"Be that as it may, I cannot imagine an angel married. Can you?"
+
+"Good gracious! Am I to remain single all my life?"
+
+"Who am I that I should choose between an angel and Meg Ogilvey?"
+
+"I wouldn't limit your choice so narrowly," she said, eluding his point
+with ease. "Besides, I've been expecting every minute to hear that
+there is a Mrs. Armathwaite."
+
+"There isn't!"
+
+"I'm sorry. I wish there was, and that she was here now. Then, if she
+was nice, and you wouldn't have married her if she wasn't, she would ask
+me to stay a few days. And I would say 'Yes, please.' As it is, I must
+hurry over my packing, and take myself back to Cheshire."
+
+"Yes," said he, compelling the words. "There is no doubt about that. You
+cannot remain here."
+
+"Well, you needn't hammer in the fact that you'll be glad to be rid of
+me. Have some more coffee?"
+
+A heavy step sounded on the path without. The girl, who was seated with
+her back to the window, turned and looked out.
+
+"Here's Tom Bland, the Nuttonby carrier," she cried excitedly, smiling
+and nodding at some person visible only to herself. "Dear old Tom! Won't
+he be surprised at seeing me!"
+
+Armathwaite's wandering wits were suddenly and sharply recalled to the
+extraordinary situation confronting him.
+
+"You don't mean that some local man has recognized you?" he growled, and
+the note of real annoyance in his voice brought a wondering glance from
+the girl.
+
+"We gazed straight at one another, at any rate," she said, with a
+perceptible stiffening of manner. "Considering that Tom knows me as well
+as I know him, it would be stupid to pretend that neither of us knows
+the other. It would be useless where Tom is concerned, at any rate. He
+grinned all over his face, so I may as well go to the door and have a
+word with him."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Armathwaite, springing to his
+feet, and upsetting a plate in his hurry. "If Tom Bland says he has seen
+you here, I'll tell him he's several varieties of a liar. At this moment
+Marguerite Garth simply doesn't exist. She's a myth. The lady in this
+room is Meg Ogilvey, whom Tom Bland has never heard of before. Now,
+understand, that I forbid you to move or show your face again at the
+window."
+
+"Oh, my!" pouted the girl, making believe to be very much afraid of him.
+That was the hardest part of the task confronting the Grange's latest
+tenant. He could awe and keep in check ten thousand turbulent and
+fanatical Pathans for many a year, but a clear-eyed English girl of
+twenty-two refused to be either awe-stricken or kept in restraint for as
+many minutes. Yet he must bend her to his will, for her own sake. He
+must force her away from Elmdale, from the hourly possibility of some
+ghastly revelation which would darken and embitter her life. The
+undertaking would go against the grain, but he dared not shirk it, and,
+once his mind was made up, he was not one whose resolution faltered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+GATHERING CLOUDS
+
+
+The Nuttonby carrier took the new tenant of the Grange into his circle
+of acquaintances with the ready camaraderie of his class.
+
+"Fine morning, sir," said he.
+
+"An excellent morning," said Armathwaite. "Have you brought my boxes?"
+
+"Yes, sir. They be rare an' heavy, an' all."
+
+"You and I can manage them between us, I have no doubt," and Armathwaite
+led the way to the gate. As they passed the dining-room, Bland stared
+candidly through the window, but the girl was not visible.
+
+"I didn't reckon on seein' Miss Meg to-day, sir," he said.
+
+"Miss Meg? Who's Miss Meg?" smiled the other.
+
+"Why, poor Mr. Garth's lass, to be sure."
+
+"Ah! My cousin thought you were under the impression that you recognized
+her. But you are mistaken. The lady you saw is Miss Marguerite Ogilvey."
+
+"Is she now? Well, that takes it! I could ha' sworn--Miss who, sir?"
+
+Armathwaite repeated the name, and Tom Bland scratched his head. He was
+elderly, and weather-tanned as the Nuttonby porter, but his occupation
+had quickened his wits; there are times when one should not reiterate an
+opinion.
+
+"You'll not have tried the beck yet, sir?" he said, twisting the
+conversation rather obviously. "I had a turn in the Swale meself last
+evenin'--this water runs into it, ye ken, an' the troot were risin'
+fine."
+
+"What flies did you use?"
+
+"Two March browns an' a black gnat. There's nowt like a March brown, to
+my thinkin'."
+
+"Can you tell me who owns the land in that direction?" and Armathwaite
+pointed to the wooded gill which cut into the moorland to the eastward.
+
+Bland gave some names, which Armathwaite entered in a notebook. He was
+wondering whether or not he should ask the man not to mention that he
+had seen a second occupant of the house, but decided that gossip would
+be stilled more quickly if the topic were left severely alone. He knew
+that Walker had told the carrier certain facts about himself. Possibly
+there would be some talk when next the two met, but, by that time, the
+Grange would have lost its highly interesting visitor, and Armathwaite
+smiled at the notion of the dapper young auctioneer trying to extract
+information from him.
+
+The boxes, too, permitted of no waste of breath. When the third was
+dumped in the hall Bland was gasping, and Armathwaite's rather sallow
+face wore a heightened color.
+
+"That was a stiff haul for your horse. How much?" said the owner of
+these solid trunks.
+
+"It's eight miles----" began Bland. Despite a fixed tariff he could not
+forego an opportunity for bargaining, and Yorkshire will never give a
+direct answer if it can be avoided.
+
+"Sixteen, really," broke in Armathwaite. "Will sixteen shillings meet
+the case?"
+
+But Bland drew the line at downright extortion.
+
+"Nay, nay!" he said. "I had a few calls on the way, an' there's some
+empties to go back from the Fox and Hounds. Take off the six, sir, an'
+I'll be very content."
+
+Armathwaite paid him and added a florin "for a drink." As it happened,
+Betty Jackson crossed the hall, and nodded a greeting. This was
+fortunate. The girl's presence lent a needed touch of domesticity.
+
+"Ye'll hae gotten Betty an' her mother to do for you?" commented the
+carrier.
+
+"Yes. I was lucky to find them available."
+
+"Ay, they're all right. They'll mak' ye comfortable. They will, an' all.
+I've known Mrs. Jackson these fot-ty year. Good mornin', sir. If you
+want owt frae Nuttonby just tell the postman. I come this way Tuesdays,
+Thursdays an' Saturdays."
+
+With the departure of the carrier Armathwaite fancied that the
+irksomeness of life would lessen. The "cousin" of recent adoption had
+evidently withdrawn to the farther part of the dining-room, because
+Bland, despite many attempts, had not set eyes on her again. She, of
+course, was aware when he mounted into the cart and rumbled out of sight
+around the corner of the cottage. She came out. Armathwaite was
+unstrapping the boxes. One was already open, revealing books in layers.
+
+"Sorry I'm such a nuisance," she said quietly. "Of course, it was
+thoughtless of me to nod to Tom Bland, but he took me by surprise.
+Naturally, you don't wish people to know I am in Elmdale. Will you
+confer one last favor? Take your rods and pannier, and go for a couple
+of hours' fishing. I shall scoot before you return. I'll select the few
+things I require, and Betty will pack them, and hand them over to Bland
+on Saturday."
+
+He was on his knees and looked up at her.
+
+"By 'scooting' do you mean that you are going to walk across that moor
+again?" he demanded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"If that is the only possible way of escape, I'll go with you."
+
+"Walk twenty-eight miles? Ridiculous!"
+
+"You're not going alone."
+
+"I am." This with a little stamp of one of the brown brogues, mighty
+fetching.
+
+"I shall not force my company on you, if that is what you fear."
+
+"But how absurd! Do you intend following me?"
+
+"Yes--until you are within easy range of the railway."
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite, I'm perfectly well able to take care of myself."
+
+"I'm sure of it, Meg. But a cousin should be cousinly. Our relationship
+will not be close. Say, a distance of two hundred yards."
+
+He smiled into her eyes; his stern face softened wonderfully when he
+smiled.
+
+"I couldn't think of permitting it," she pouted, eyeing him with a new
+interest.
+
+He sat back on his heels, and affected a resigned attitude.
+
+"Let's argue the point for two hours," he said. "I can't go fishing,
+because I shall be trespassing until I have acquired some rights.
+Moreover, nothing short of violence will stop me from escorting you
+over the moor. In this weather, moors contain tramps."
+
+"I know. I met two yesterday."
+
+"Did they speak to you?"
+
+"One did. I didn't mind him. The second one turned and looked. I was
+ready to run, but he only stared."
+
+"May I ask what costume you intend wearing for to-day's outing?"
+
+"I haven't quite decided. It may be a blue Shantung or a white pique,
+but it won't be gray flannel, if that's what you're hinting at."
+
+He rose, and felt in his pockets.
+
+"I think we can get through those two hours comfortably. May I smoke?"
+he said.
+
+"Yes, please do. Then you won't be so grumpy. Walk twenty-eight miles on
+my account! The idea!"
+
+"I've walked forty before to-day, and stood a very reasonable chance of
+being potted every inch of the way. You won't fire at me, at any rate,
+so twenty-eight is a mere stroll. In fact, if you are gracious, it can
+be a pleasant one, too."
+
+"Potted! Were you in the army?"
+
+"No. Soldiers like that sort of thing! I didn't so I gave it up. Sure
+you don't mind a pipe?"
+
+"I love it. I often fill and light dad's for him when he's busy. You
+ought to see him when he's tracking some Norse legend to its lair, or
+clearing up a point left doubtful by Frazer in the _Golden Bough_. Have
+you ever read Frazer? I know him and Mannhardt almost by heart. I help
+dad a lot in my own little way. Have you ever played cat's cradle?"
+
+"With a piece of string?"
+
+"Yes. Well, games and folk-lore go together, and cat's cradle has been
+played since the ancient Britons wore--whatever ancient Britons did
+wear. Now, you're laughing at me."
+
+"Indeed, I'm not. I was marveling at our kindred tastes. Have you heard
+of the Jatakas and Panchatantras of India?"
+
+"I know that there are such things."
+
+"I'll jot down two or three, with a translation."
+
+"Oh, wouldn't dad love to meet you! He often growls because he can't
+read Sanskrit."
+
+"Tell me where you live, and I'll look you up some day."
+
+"Our permanent address is----Oh, my! Somebody's coming, and I don't want
+you to be cross with me again."
+
+She fled into the kitchen. The door had hardly closed when a shadow
+darkened the porch. Armathwaite, lighting his pipe, gazed through a
+cloud of smoke at a red-faced policeman.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Who have _you_ come for?"
+
+The policeman grinned, and saluted.
+
+"There's not much doing in Elmdale in my line, sir," he said. "I was
+told the Grange had a new tenant, so I just looked in. I come this way
+Thursday mornings and Monday nights, as a rule. I'm stationed at
+Bellerby, nearly three miles from here. Last time I was in this
+hall----"
+
+Armathwaite was too quick for him. Residence in Mr. Walker's "house
+'round the corner" had proved so rife in surprises that the long arm of
+coincidence might be expected to play its part at any moment. So he
+countered deftly.
+
+"Sorry I can't be more hospitable," he broke in, advancing, and
+deliberately causing the constable to step back into the porch.
+"Everything is at sixes and sevens. I only arrived yesterday, and my
+boxes, as you see, are not yet unpacked."
+
+He closed the door, feeling certain that his judgment had not erred. It
+was soon justified.
+
+"Next time you're passing, give me a call," he went on. "I'll be able to
+offer you a whisky and soda or a bottle of beer. Are you the man who
+was brought here by a Mr. Benson on a certain occasion?"
+
+"I am, sir, and it was a nasty job, too. I'm glad someone has taken the
+place. It's a nice property, but the garden has gone to wrack and ruin
+since poor Mr. Garth went. Just look at them dandelions, growin' where
+there used to be a bed of the finest begonias I've ever seen! 'Begonia
+Smith' was the gardener's nickname for miles around. And convolvulus
+instead of sweet peas! It's a sin, that's what it is!"
+
+The policeman, clearly an enthusiast, took off his helmet, and wiped his
+forehead with a purple pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"You knew Mr. Garth, I suppose?" said Armathwaite, strolling towards the
+dandelions, whose vigorous growth was so offensive to the horticultural
+eye. The other went with him, little thinking he was being headed off a
+scent which might lead to a greater tragedy than the devastation of a
+once well-kept garden.
+
+"Knew him well, sir. A very pleasant-spoken gentleman he was, an' all. I
+brought him a party of plow stots one day--men who dance in the villages
+at Martinmas, sir--and he was as pleased as Punch because they sang some
+old verses he'd never heard before. The last man in the world I'd ever
+have thought of to kill himself."
+
+"There was no doubt that he committed suicide?"
+
+"No, sir, that there wasn't. He'd been dead two days when I cut him
+down. Well, no need to talk of it now, but even the doctor was rattled,
+though the weather was very hot that June."
+
+Armathwaite felt as if he had been conjured by some spiteful necromancer
+out of a smiling and sunlit English countryside into a realm of ghouls
+and poison-growths. A minute ago a charming and sweet-spoken girl had
+been chatting glibly about her father's wanderings in the by-ways of
+folk-lore, and now this stolid policeman was hinting at the gruesomeness
+of his task when called on to release the lifeless body of that same man
+from its dolorous perch beside the clock.
+
+For an instant he lost himself, and fixed such a penetrating glance on
+the constable that the latter grew uneasy, lest he had said something he
+ought not to have said. Armathwaite realized the mistake at once, and
+dropped those searching eyes from the other's anxious face to some
+scraps of ribbon sewn on the left breast of the dark blue tunic.
+
+"You have the Tirah medal, I see," he said. "Were you at Dargai?"
+
+The question achieved the immediate effect counted on.
+
+"I was, an' all, sir," and the ex-soldier squared his shoulders. "Though
+no Scottie, I was in the Gordon Highlanders. Were you there, sir?"
+
+"I--er--yes, but as a non-combatant. I was in the Politicals--quite a
+youngster in those days, and I was fool enough to envy you that rush
+across the plateau."
+
+"It was warm work while it lasted, sir."
+
+"There have been few things to equal it in warfare. What time do you
+pass through the village on Monday?"
+
+"Shortly after eleven, sir."
+
+"If you see a light, come in. If not, look me up next Thursday. If I'm
+fishing, I'll leave word with Mrs. Jackson that you're to have a
+refresher should you be that way inclined."
+
+"Thank you, sir. My name's Leadbitter, if ever you should want me."
+
+"And a jolly good name, too, for a man who fought against the Afridis.
+By the way, can you tell me what time the post leaves here?"
+
+"A rural postman calls at Thompson's shop for letters about half-past
+four, sir."
+
+A cigar changed hands, and P. C. Leadbitter strode off, holding his head
+high. It was a red-letter day. He had met one who knew what the storming
+of the Dargai Pass meant. Even the memories of Stephen Garth pendant
+from a hook beneath the china shelf faded into the mists of a country
+policeman's humdrum routine. He was halfway to Bellerby when he
+remembered that he had not done the one thing he meant doing--he had not
+asked Mr. Armathwaite's intentions with regard to the garden. Begonia
+Smith had retired to a village lying between Bellerby and Nuttonby.
+Though too old to take a new situation, he would jump at the chance of
+setting his beloved Grange garden in order again, and, of course, he was
+just the man for the job. Leadbitter believed in doing a good turn when
+opportunity offered. After tea, he went in search of Smith of the order
+Begoniaceae. To save half a mile of a three miles' tramp by road, he
+passed through the estate of Sir Berkeley Hutton, and met that
+redoubtable baronet himself strolling forth to see how the partridges
+were coming on.
+
+"Ha!" cried Hutton, knowing that his land was not in the policeman's
+district, "has that rascally herd of mine been gettin' full again?"
+
+"No, Sir Berkeley, Jim's keepin' steady these days," was the answer.
+"There's a new tenant at the Grange, Elmdale; he'll be wantin' a
+gardener, I'm thinkin', so I'm going to put Begonia Smith on his
+track."
+
+"A new tenant! You don't tell me. What's his name?"
+
+"A Mr. Robert Armathwaite, Sir Berkeley. A very nice gentleman, too.
+Been in India, in the Politicals, he said. I didn't quite know what he
+meant----"
+
+"But I do, by Jove, and a decent lot of chaps they are. Picked men, all
+of 'em. I must look him up. I haven't met anyone of that name, but we're
+sure to own scores of friends in common. Glad I met you, Leadbitter.
+I'll drive over there some day soon. Armathwaite, you say? Sounds like
+an old Yorkshire name, but it's new to me. The coveys are strong on the
+wing this year, eh?"
+
+So, all unwittingly so far as Armathwaite was concerned, his recognition
+of an Indian Frontier ribbon had set in motion strange forces, as a
+pebble falling from an Alpine summit can start an avalanche. In truth,
+he had not yet grasped the essential fact that residents in a secluded
+district of Yorkshire, or in any similar section of the United Kingdom,
+were close knit throughout astonishingly large areas. He had belonged to
+a ruling caste among an inferior race during so many active years that
+he still retained the habits of thought generated by knowledge of local
+conditions in India, where a town like Nuttonby would have little in
+common with a hamlet like Elmdale, whereas, in Yorkshire, Nuttonby knew
+the affairs of Elmdale almost as intimately as its own.
+
+But enlightenment on this point, and on many others, was coming
+speedily. He received the first sharp lesson within a few hours.
+
+Marguerite Ogilvey might be a most industrious young lady when
+circumstances were favorable, but she had so many questions to put, and
+so much local news to absorb from Mrs. Jackson and Betty, that the
+morning slipped by without any material progress being made in the
+avowed object of her visit.
+
+Armathwaite, piling rows of books on the library floor, noticed that the
+collection of seven, ranging from a Sheffield cake-basket to a Baxter
+print, had not been added to. The girl wanted to know, of course, why
+Leadbitter came, and was told, though his references to the disheveled
+state of the garden were suppressed. Then she volunteered to help in
+disposing of the new lot of books, but her services were peremptorily
+declined.
+
+"You're a grumpy sort of cousin at times, Bob," she cried, and betook
+herself to the scullery and more entertaining company. She had been
+chatting there an hour, or longer, when she wheeled round on Mrs.
+Jackson with an astonished cry.
+
+"I've been here all the morning, and you've never said a word about my
+father and mother," she declared. "They're quite well, thank you; but
+you might have inquired."
+
+"Well, there!" stammered Mrs. Jackson, "It was on the tip of me tongue
+half a dozen times, an' something drove it away again. An' how are they,
+Miss Meg?"
+
+"I've just told you. I do wish they'd come back to the Grange, but they
+seem to hate the very mention of it. I wonder why?"
+
+"Elmdale's a long way frae Lunnon," said Betty, catching at a straw in
+this sudden whirlpool.
+
+"We're just as far from London in Cornwall," laughed the girl.
+
+"Oh, is that where you've gone?" put in Mrs. Jackson incautiously.
+
+"Yes. Didn't you know? Hadn't you the address for letters?"
+
+"No, miss. Miggles said"--Miggles was the peripatetic postman--"that all
+letters had to be sent to Holloway & Dobb, in Nuttonby."
+
+Marguerite looked rather puzzled, because her recollection ran
+differently; she dropped the subject, thinking, doubtless, that her
+parents' behests had some good reason behind them, and ought to be
+respected.
+
+"Anyhow," she went on, "now that I've broken the ice by coming here, my
+people may be willing to return. I don't suppose Mr. Armathwaite will
+stay beyond the summer."
+
+"Mr. Walker tole me he thought of takin' the place for a year," said
+Mrs. Jackson.
+
+"Indeed. I'll ask him at lunch. I've wasted the morning, so I'll stay
+another night, and start early to-morrow. You'll find me a bed in the
+cottage, won't you, Mrs. Jackson?"
+
+"Mebbe, Mr. Armathwaite will be vexed," said Betty, making a
+half-hearted effort to carry out the compact between herself and her
+employer.
+
+"Leave Mr. Armathwaite to me," laughed Marguerite. "He's a bear, and he
+growls, but he has no claws, not for women, at any rate. No one could be
+nicer than he last night. I felt an awful fool, and looked it, too; but
+he didn't say a single word to cause me any embarrassment. Moreover, he
+intends crossing the moor with me, and I can't let him get lost in the
+dark. Men have died who were lost on that moor."
+
+"Oh, but that's in the winter, miss, when the snow's deep," said Betty.
+
+"Why, I do believe you want to get rid of me!" cried the other.
+
+Betty flushed guiltily. She was floundering in deep waters, and struck
+out blindly.
+
+"Oh, no, miss," she vowed. "You know me better than that. P'raps you'll
+be gettin' married one of these days, an' then you can please yourself,
+an' live here."
+
+"Married! Me get married, and leave dad and mums! Oh, dear no! One young
+man has asked me already, and I--"
+
+"Betty," said a voice from the doorway leading to the hall, "can you
+give me a duster?"
+
+The conclave started apart, like so many disturbed sparrows; but
+Armathwaite could make a shrewd guess as to the name of the "one young
+man," since he had Marguerite Ogilvey's own testimony for it that Percy
+Whittaker would "do anything" to oblige her, and what more likely than
+that such devotion should lead to matrimony?
+
+At luncheon he received with frigidity the girl's statement that she
+planned remaining in Elmdale till the morrow.
+
+"There's really no reason to hurry," she said airily. "The Whittakers
+know where I am, and I'll send a postcard saying I'll be with them
+Friday evening."
+
+"I must remind you that every hour you prolong your visit you add to the
+risk of discovery," he said.
+
+"Discovery of what, or by whom?" she demanded.
+
+"I am only endeavoring to fall in with your own wishes. You came here
+secretly. You took pains to prevent anyone from recognizing you. Have
+you changed your mind?"
+
+"I--I think I have. You see, your being here makes a heap of
+difference."
+
+"Precisely. You ought to get away all the sooner."
+
+"First Betty--now you! I must indeed be an unwelcome guest in my
+father's house. Of course, I can't possibly stay now. There's a train
+from Leyburn at seven o'clock. I can catch it by leaving here at three,
+but I shan't start unless I go alone."
+
+She looked prettier than ever when her brown eyes sparkled with anger,
+but Armathwaite hardened his heart because of the grim shadow which she
+could not see but which was hourly becoming more visible to him.
+
+"Is Leyburn the station on the other side of the moor?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you will remain here three weary months, Meg."
+
+"I don't pretend to understand," she cried wrathfully.
+
+"I've paid three months' rent, and here I shall stay if a regiment of
+girls and a whole army of Percy Whittakers try to eject me. As I am
+equally resolved not to allow you to cross the moor unaccompanied, you
+will readily perceive the only logical outcome of your own decision."
+
+The brown eyes lost their fire, but acquired another sort of sheen.
+
+"What has happened that you should speak so unkindly?" she quavered.
+"Last night and this morning you--you--didn't order me out. And I don't
+see why you should drag in Percy Whittaker. I only borrowed his togs."
+
+Many times in the history of this gray old world have woman's tears
+pierced armor and sapped fortresses. This hapless man yielded at once.
+
+"Confound it, Miss Ogilvey, I'd keep you here during the remainder of my
+days if I could arrange matters to my own liking and yours," he blurted
+out.
+
+She recovered her self-possession with amazing readiness.
+
+"Now, Bob, you're talking nonsense," she tittered. "Aren't we making
+mountains out of molehills? I have lots to do, and hate being rushed. I
+can stay with Mrs. Jackson to-night, and you and I will set out for
+Leyburn early to-morrow. Then, if you don't care to face the return
+journey, you shall take train to Nuttonby and drive here. Isn't that a
+good plan?"
+
+"We must adopt it, at any rate," he said grudgingly. "But you promise
+to remain hidden all day?"
+
+"Yes, even that. Now, let's stop squabbling, and eat. Tell me something
+about India. It must be an awfully jolly place. If I went there, should
+I be a mem-sahib?"
+
+"It is highly probable."
+
+"What a funny way to put it! Aren't all English ladies in India
+mem-sahibs?"
+
+"The married ones are. The spinsters are miss-sahibs."
+
+She laughed delightedly, and without any sense of awkwardness because of
+her own blunder.
+
+"Naturally they would be. That's rather neat when you come to think of
+it," she cried.
+
+Old jokes are ever new in someone's ears, or no comic paper could live
+beyond a year. When Betty came in with a gooseberry tart and cream, she
+heard the two calling each other "Bob" and "Meg," and reported thereon
+in the kitchen.
+
+"It seems to me she's larnt summat (something) i' Cornwall," commented
+Mrs. Jackson.
+
+"And him old enough to be her father!" marveled Betty.
+
+"Fiddlesticks! It's the life he's led that's aged him. He's not a day
+more'n thirty-five."
+
+Mrs. Jackson was no bad judge. Her employer was in his thirty-sixth
+year.
+
+After luncheon, Marguerite Ogilvey collected her treasures, and, with
+Betty's help, packed them in boxes obtained at the village shop. Before
+tea, she wrote a letter, which Armathwaite took to the post. While
+there, he inquired about the fishing, and the grocer pointed out a very
+tall and stoutly-built man stacking hay at the bottom of a long field.
+
+"That's Mr. Burt," he said. "He owns a mile or more of the best water.
+If you were to go an' see him now, sir, you could settle things straight
+off."
+
+"But I want to have a word with Miggles."
+
+"He'll be here in ten minutes, sir, an' I'll tell him to give you a
+hail. The Nuttonby road passes the end of that field."
+
+Matters seemed to be arranged conveniently; as, indeed, they were, if
+sprites were laying snares for Robert Armathwaite's feet.
+
+He met Farmer Burt, and was given all fishing facilities at once. Nay,
+more, if this weather lasted, as was likely, and all the hay was saved
+by sunset, Burt himself would call next day, and reveal the lie of the
+land.
+
+"Make it Saturday," said Armathwaite, mindful of another fixture.
+
+"Right you are, sir!"
+
+Someone shouted. It was Miggles, breast-high beyond a hedge. At that
+instant Armathwaite caught sight of a dog-cart swinging into Elmdale. A
+gallant figure at the reins seemed somehow familiar. Therefore, instead
+of describing the kind of bath he wished Tom Bland to bring from an
+ironmonger's, he said sharply to the postman:
+
+"Who is that in the dog-cart?"
+
+"Young Mr. Walker, o' Nuttonby, sir," was the answer.
+
+James Walker! The man whom Marguerite Ogilvey said she hated, and such a
+phrase on a girl's lips with reference to a man like Walker almost
+invariably means that she has been pestered by his attentions. The
+Grange was nearly a mile distant, and Walker was now dashing through the
+village street.
+
+"Damn!" said Armathwaite, making off at top speed.
+
+Miggles gazed after him.
+
+"Rum houses draws rum coves," he said, trudging away on his daily round.
+"Not that he's the first who's damned young Jimmy Walker, not by a jolly
+long way!"
+
+Evidently, an Aristotelian postman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE STORM BREAKS
+
+
+Armathwaite's face, as he strode through Elmdale, was hardly that of a
+man who had found there the quiet and solitude he had stipulated for
+when in treaty with Walker & Son. Its stern and harassed aspect was seen
+and commented on by a score of people. Though most of the inhabitants
+were busy in the fields, there were watchers in plenty peering from each
+farm and cottage. Already the village held in common the scanty stock of
+information possessed by the Jacksons concerning the Grange's new
+tenant, because mother and daughter were far too shrewd to provoke
+discussion by withholding the facts stated by the house agent. They knew
+that every urchin who could toddle had peeped through gate and hedges
+that morning; they were more alive than Armathwaite himself to the risk
+Miss Meg ran of being seen if she went outside the house, front or back,
+for ten seconds. The best way to disarm gossip was to answer as best
+they might the four questions put by every inquirer: Who is he? Where
+does he come from? Is he married? How long will he stop?
+
+Singularly enough, in a land of variable weather, Elmdale at this time
+was bathed in brilliant sunshine from morn till eve. The ripening crops,
+the green uplands, the moor, with its gorse just fading and its heather
+showing the first faint flush of purple, were steeped in the "great
+peacefulness of light" so dear to Ruskin. If one searched the earth it
+would be hard to find a nook where sorrow and evil were less likely to
+dree their weird; yet, Armathwaite expected to meet those grim sisters
+stalking through the ancient house when he saw an empty dog-cart and an
+open door; he seldom erred in such forecasts, and his divination was not
+at fault now.
+
+As he entered the hall, he heard the girl's voice, clear and crisp and
+scornful.
+
+"How dare you say such things to me! How dare you! My father is alive
+and well. If he were here now----"
+
+James Walker chuckled.
+
+"Tell that to the Marines," he began. The remainder of the sentence died
+on his lips when Armathwaite's tall form appeared in the doorway.
+
+"You here, Mr. Walker?" said the Anglo-Indian calmly. Then, noting
+Marguerite Ogilvey's white face and distraught eyes, he assumed a
+mystified air, and cried:
+
+"Hullo, Meg, what's gone wrong?"
+
+She flew to him instantly, clasping his arm, and the confident touch of
+her fingers thrilled him to the core.
+
+"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad you've come back," she almost sobbed. "That--that
+nasty little man has been telling such horrid fibs. He says--he
+says--Oh, Bob, won't you send him away?"
+
+At that moment the mental equilibrium of James Walker, junior (his
+father was also James) was badly shaken. It oscillated violently in one
+direction when he noted the manner of address these two adopted the one
+to the other. It swung to another extreme on hearing himself described
+as "a nasty little man" by a girl for whom a long-dormant calf love had
+quickened in his veins when Tom Bland announced that "Meg Garth, or her
+ghost," was at the Grange that day. It positively wobbled when
+Armathwaite threw a protecting arm round the desired one's shoulders. So
+he listened, open-mouthed, when Armathwaite spoke.
+
+"Sorry I wasn't at home, Meg, dear, when Mr. Walker arrived--or he
+wouldn't have troubled you," the mysterious stranger was saying. There
+was an unpleasant glint in the steely glance that accompanied the next
+words:
+
+"Now, Mr. Walker, come outside, and explain your business."
+
+But Walker was no country bumpkin, to be overawed and silenced by a man
+of superior social status. He was puzzled, and stung, stung beyond hope
+of cure. Yet he was not afraid. Certain qualities of sharpness and
+cuteness warned him that if he controlled his temper, and did not
+bluster, he held the whip hand in a situation of which the true
+inwardness was still hidden.
+
+"My business is not with you, Mr. Armathwaite," he said, with the utmost
+civility his tongue was capable of. "I heard of Miss Garth's arrival,
+and came to see her. It's not my fault if she's vexed at what I've said.
+I meant no offense. I only told the truth."
+
+"I have reason to believe that you forced yourself into Miss Garth's
+presence;" and, in repeating the name, Armathwaite pressed the girl's
+shoulder gently as an intimation that no good purpose would be served by
+any correction in that respect. "Again, and for the last time, I request
+you to leave her."
+
+"There's no last time about it," said Walker, who was watching
+Marguerite's wan and terror-stricken face. "I had a perfect right to
+call on Meg Garth. She daren't pretend she doesn't know me, and a false
+name can't humbug me, or Tom Bland, for that matter."
+
+"I know you only too well," broke in the girl with a vehemence that
+brought a momentary rush of color to her cheeks. "You annoyed me for two
+years, and I'm sorry now I didn't complain to my father about your
+ridiculous oglings and shilling boxes of chocolates, which I gave to the
+village children."
+
+She struck harder than she knew. Walker bridled like an annoyed
+turkey-cock. Armathwaite pressed Marguerite's shoulder a second time,
+and withdrew his hand.
+
+"If your ungracious admirer won't leave you, Meg, you had better leave
+him," he said, smiling into her woebegone face. "Go into the
+drawing-room, or join Mrs. Jackson. _I'll_ deal with Mr. Walker."
+
+He held the door open, purposely blotting Walker out of sight, and the
+girl obeyed. She went out bravely enough, but he caught a smothered sob
+as she passed towards the kitchen. There also, he was bitterly aware,
+danger lurked in other guise, though the two well-disposed women might
+perchance have the wit to discredit Walker's revelations, whatever they
+were.
+
+Closing the door, which swung half open again without his knowledge, he
+turned an inquiring and most unfriendly eye on the unwanted visitor.
+
+"I hope you are ashamed of yourself," he said quietly.
+
+If Walker had understood mankind better, he would not have
+misinterpreted that suave utterance by imagining, as he did, that it
+betokened fear of exposure. Unhappily, he strutted, and slapped a
+gaitered leg with a switch he carried in place of a whip.
+
+"Ashamed of nothing," he answered truculently. "I admit being sweet on
+the girl. What is there to be ashamed of in that, I'd like to know?"
+
+"It's distinctly to your credit, in some ways," said Armathwaite. "I
+should have expected your tastes to run rather to barmaids, with an
+ultimate vote in favor of the daughter of a well-to-do butcher. I
+dislike class distinctions, Walker. Too often they savor of snobbery;
+but, in this instance, I am obliged to remind you that my cousin is a
+lady."
+
+"Oh, is that it? Cousins, are you? I wish you'd told me sooner."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It might have saved this bit of bother, anyhow."
+
+"I don't think that any well-meant explanations on my part could cure
+you of an impertinent nature, Walker."
+
+"Dash it all, Mr. Armathwaite, why couldn't I visit Meg? I've seen and
+spoken to her scores of times."
+
+"But, even in Nuttonby, one does not thrust one's presence on a lady
+uninvited."
+
+Walker laughed. He could stand any amount of reproof as to his manners,
+because he rather prided himself on a swaggering disregard of other
+people's feelings.
+
+"We don't stand on ceremony in Yorkshire," he said jauntily. "I opened
+the door, and actually heard her voice. There was no sense in Betty
+Jackson sayin' Miss Garth wasn't here, and I told her so pretty plainly.
+Then, out she came. What would you have done, in my shoes? Now, I ask
+you, sir, as man to man."
+
+"I would have striven not to insult her so grossly that she should be
+moved to tears."
+
+"But I didn't. Don't you believe it. I was pleasant as could be. She
+behaved like a regular little spit-fire. Turned on me as though she'd
+been waitin' for the chance. I can stand a lot, but I'm jiggered if I'd
+let her tell me she'd complain to her father, and have him take away the
+agency of the property from our firm, when her father is buried these
+two years in Bellerby churchyard. Why, she must think I'm dotty."
+
+Armathwaite moistened his lips with his tongue.
+
+"You enlightened her ignorance, I presume?" he inquired blandly.
+
+"I didn't know what she was gettin' at, but I asked her plump and plain
+who the 'Stephen Garth' was who hanged himself in this very house, and
+has his name and the date of his death on the stone over his grave....
+It strikes me that even you don't know the facts, Mr. Armathwaite. If
+her father is alive, who was the man who committed suicide?... And, by
+jing, _did_ he commit suicide?"
+
+James Walker's theorizing ended suddenly.
+
+"You poisonous little rat!" murmured Armathwaite, and seized him. Walker
+was young and active, and by no means a weakling or cowardly, but he
+resembled a jackal in the grip of a tiger when the hands closed on him
+which had choked the life out of Nas'r-ulla Khan, chief cut-throat of
+the Usman Khel. There was no struggle. He was flung face downwards on
+the table until the door was thrown wide. Then he was bundled neck and
+crop out of the house, and kicked along the twenty yards of curving path
+to the gate.
+
+There Armathwaite released him, a limp and profane object.
+
+"Now, go to Nuttonby, and stop there!" was the parting injunction he
+received. His bitterest humiliation lay in the knowledge that Marguerite
+Garth and Betty Jackson, hearing the racket, had rushed to hall and
+door, and were gloating over his discomfiture. A drop of bitterest gall
+was added by his assailant's subsequent behavior, for Armathwaite turned
+his back on him, and sauntered slowly to the house, seemingly quite
+assured that there would be no counter-attack. And, indeed, James Walker
+retained sufficient sense in his frenzied brain to realize that he had
+no earthly chance in a physical struggle with this demon of a man. So he
+climbed into the dog-cart, though not with his wonted agility, and drove
+away to Nuttonby without ever a backward glance.
+
+But he vowed vengeance, vowed it with all the intensity of a mean and
+stubborn nature. He had visions, at first, of a successful action for
+assault and battery; but, as his rage moderated, he saw certain
+difficulties in the way. His only witnesses would be hostile, and it was
+even questionable if a bench of magistrates would convict Armathwaite
+when it was shown that he, Walker, had virtually forced an entry into
+the house, and refused to leave when requested.
+
+But he could strike more subtly and vindictively through the
+authorities. Marguerite Garth had said that Stephen Garth was living,
+and Robert Armathwaite--that compound of iron knuckles and whip-cord
+muscles--had tacitly endorsed the statement. If that was true, who was
+the man buried in Stephen Garth's name and identity in the churchyard at
+Bellerby? He had a vague recollection of some difference of opinion
+between the coroner and a doctor at the inquest. He must refresh his
+memory by consulting a file of the _Nuttonby Gazette_. In any event, he
+could stir a hornets' nest into furious activity and search the
+innermost recesses of the Grange with anguish-laden darts. Curse Meg
+Garth and her cousin! He'd teach both of 'em, that he would! If they
+thought that James Walker was done with because he had been flouted and
+ill-used, they were jolly well mistaken, see if they weren't!
+
+Marguerite Ogilvey was as tender-hearted a girl as ever breathed, but it
+needed super-human qualities--qualities that no woman could possibly
+possess and have red blood in her veins--to restrain the fierce joy
+which thrilled her being when she saw her persecutor driven forth with
+contumely. Betty Jackson, the village maid, was delighted but shocked;
+Marguerite, the educated and well-bred young lady, rejoiced candidly.
+
+"You've done just what I would have done if I were a strong man like
+you!" she cried tremulously, when Armathwaite faced her at the door.
+There was a light in her eyes which he gave no heed to at the
+moment--the light which comes into the eyes of woman when she is
+defended by her chosen mate--but he attributed it to excitement, and
+hastened to calm her.
+
+"I may have acted rashly," he said; "but I couldn't help it. Sometimes,
+one has to take the law into one's own hands. Surely, this is one of the
+occasions."
+
+"He'll keep clear of Elmdale for a bit," chortled Betty. "P'raps he
+thinks no one saw you kickin' him except ourselves. He's wrong! Half the
+village knows it! Old Mrs. Bolland nearly fell out of an upstairs window
+with cranin' her neck to see what was goin' on, an' there's little
+Johnnie Headlam runnin' down the ten-acre field now to tell Mr. Burt an'
+his men all about it."
+
+The girl had thoughtlessly blurted out a fact of far-reaching import.
+Armathwaite swung on his heel, and found gaping faces at every cottage
+backwindow, and above every hedge. Sleepy Elmdale had waked. Its usually
+deserted street was pullulating with child life. The sharp Walkers were
+somewhat too sharp on the land agency side of their business, and were
+cordially hated in consequence. The bouncing of Walker, junior, had not
+made him popular; his trouncing would provide a joyous epic for many a
+day. As for Marguerite Ogilvey's presence in the house, it was known far
+and wide already. She had been recognized by dozens of people. Elmdale,
+which might have figured as Goldsmith's deserted village five minutes
+earlier, was now a thriving place, all eyes and cackling tongues.
+
+Armathwaite had lost sight of that highly probable outcome of his
+action, nor did it trouble him greatly. The major happening, which he
+had striven so valiantly to avert, had come about through no fault of
+his; these minor issues were trivial and might be disregarded. In an
+earthquake the crumbling of a few bricks more or less is a matter of
+small account. He knew that when Marguerite Ogilvey had almost forgotten
+the downfall of Walker she would remember its immediate cause the more
+poignantly.
+
+"Hadn't we better go indoors till the weather is cooler?" he said, and
+the sound of his calm voice, no less than the smile he managed to summon
+in aid, relaxed the tension.
+
+"Please, miss, shall I make a fresh pot of tea?" inquired Betty when the
+door was closed. There spoke the true Yorkshire breed. Let the heavens
+fall, but don't miss a meal.
+
+"No," said Marguerite, holding her open hands pressed close to eyes and
+cheeks.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite--"that is, if Miss Meg has not had her tea."
+
+Betty nodded, and hastened into the drawing-room, where, it appeared,
+tea was awaiting Armathwaite's return when Walker arrived on the scene.
+She emerged, carrying a tea-pot, and went to the kitchen. Marguerite was
+now crying silently. When the man caught her arm, meaning to lead her
+gently into the drawing-room, she broke into a very tempest of weeping,
+just as a child yields to an abandonment of grief when most assured of
+sympathy and protection.
+
+He took her to a chair, but did not attempt to pacify her. For one
+thing, he had a man's belief that a woman's hyper-sensitive nervous
+system may find benefit in what is known as "a good cry;" for another,
+he was not sorry to have a brief respite during which to collect and
+criticize his own ideas. He did not even try to conceal from himself the
+ugly fact that James Walker had put into one or two sentences of
+concentrated venom all that was known to him (Armathwaite) concerning
+the death in the house, and even a little more, because he had not
+learnt previously that Stephen Garth was buried at Bellerby. Nor did he
+permit himself to under-rate Marguerite's intelligence. Her heedless
+vivacity, and the occasional use of school-girl slang in her speech,
+were the mere externals of a thoughtful and well-stored mind. There was
+not the least chance that she would miss any phase of the tragedy which
+had puzzled and almost bewildered him by its vagueness and mystery. She
+would recall his own perplexed questions of the previous night. In all
+likelihood the Jacksons, mother and daughter, had said things which
+fuller knowledge would clothe with sinister significance. Walker's
+open-mouthed brutality had left nothing to the imagination. When
+Marguerite Ogilvey spoke, Armathwaite felt that he would be called on to
+deal with the most difficult problem he had ever tackled.
+
+When Betty came with a replenished tea-pot she would have attempted to
+soothe the girl's convulsive sobbing had not Armathwaite intervened.
+
+"Leave Miss Meg to me," he said. "She's going to stop crying in a
+minute, and vow that she looks a perfect fright, and must really go to
+her room and bathe her eyes. And I'm going to tell her that a
+handkerchief dipped in a teaspoonful of milk and dabbed on red eyes is
+more refreshing and healing than a bucketful of cold water. Then we'll
+have tea, and eke a stroll on the moor, and perchance Providence will
+send us a quiet hour in which to look at facts squarely in the face,
+whereupon some of us will know just where we are, and the world will not
+be quite so topsy-turvy as it appears at this moment."
+
+Betty gathered that the "master's" harangue was not meant for her, and
+withdrew, whereupon Marguerite dropped her hands and lifted her swimming
+eyes to Armathwaite's grave and kindly face.
+
+"Is that milk recipe of yours really intended for use?" she inquired,
+with a piteous attempt at a smile.
+
+"The whole program has been carefully planned on the most up-to-date and
+utilitarian lines," he answered.
+
+"Did you hurt Walker?" was her next rather unexpected question, while
+pouring some milk into a saucer.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'm glad."
+
+"How many boxes of chocolates did he send you?"
+
+"About half a dozen."
+
+"Then I kicked him at least once for each box--gave good measure, too."
+
+"It's horrid and un-Christian--still, I'm glad. Do you take sugar and
+cream?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Why of course? Some people don't."
+
+"I'm an emphatic person in my likes and dislikes, so I talk that way."
+
+"I don't know what I should have done if you were not here."
+
+"You are too charitable. It is my being here that has caused all the
+worry."
+
+"No, I cannot take that view. There are happenings in life which, at the
+hour, seem to be the outcome of mere chance, but one realizes later that
+they were inevitable as autumn after spring."
+
+"What a libel on our English climate," he laughed. "Is there no summer,
+then? What about this present glorious revel of sunshine? Charles the
+Second, who never said a foolish thing and never did a wise one,
+remarked one day that, in his opinion, England possessed the best
+climate in the world, because no day was too hot or too cold to prevent
+a man from going out of doors. I've seen more of the world,
+geographically speaking, than his kingship, yet I agree with him."
+
+"My father----" she began, but choked suddenly.
+
+"Tell me this, Meg: how long is it since you last saw your father?" he
+demanded, well knowing the futility of any attempt to divert her mind
+from a topic which must surely occupy it to the exclusion of all else.
+
+"Just a week ago," she faltered.
+
+"Good! I need not insist, then, that our young friend in the red
+waistcoat is mistaken when he says that your father occupies a grave in
+Bellerby churchyard! Of course, I'm not pretending that you and I are
+not faced with a strange problem. With your permission, I propose that
+we solve it together. I'll keep nothing back. You, on your part, must
+answer such questions as I think necessary--unless, that is, you feel I
+am trespassing unduly into the private affairs of your family. I'm not
+well posted in the turns and twists of English country life, but I am
+quite certain of two things--first, the mystery attached to this house
+must be dissipated now, because the police authorities will insist on
+it; second, if they beat me, and you suffer, they'll have achieved
+something that no set of officials has succeeded in doing hitherto. Now,
+I want you to believe that, and to act in the assumption that God is in
+heaven, and all is well with the world."
+
+The girl smiled through her tears, and strove gallantly to eat one of
+the cheese-cakes for which Mrs. Jackson was renowned.
+
+"Bob," she said, after a little while, "will you tell me why you came to
+Elmdale?"
+
+"I wanted peace and solitude, plus some trout-fishing."
+
+"Yet you speak of engaging in some terrible combat against the law on my
+account."
+
+"Aren't you rather jumping at conclusions? Circumstances have conspired
+to build a bogey. A ghost which all Elmdale has seen in the hall
+resolves itself, on inquiry, into a shadow cast by a stained-glass
+window. Certain murderous-sounding thumps which I heard last night
+materialize into a charming young lady. Why shouldn't a death which took
+place in this house two years since prove equally susceptible of a
+simple explanation? No, we're not going to convert ourselves into a
+committee of two until you have taken one more cup of tea, one more
+cake, or two slices of bread and butter. Then you'll put on a hat, and
+I'll light a pipe, and we'll climb up to the moor. On the way I'll
+impart every scrap of information I've gathered thus far, and, when you
+have considered the situation in such light as I am able to cast on it,
+you will decide whether or not you are justified in telling me something
+of your recent history. Is it a bargain?"
+
+Armathwaite was only talking for the sake of keeping the girl's mind
+from brooding on the extraordinary facts thrust on her by Walker. He was
+sure she would treat a phenomenal set of affairs more rationally if she
+heard the story from his own lips. He would have liked, if possible, to
+have glanced over the report of the inquest in the newspaper promised by
+Betty, but decided that Marguerite Ogilvey must not be left to her own
+thoughts one instant longer than was absolutely necessary.
+
+Examination of the newspaper was deferred, therefore. When the girl ran
+downstairs to join him she had tied some scrap of blue veil over her hat
+in such wise that her face was screened in profile, so, as they breasted
+the hill together, he could hardly judge of the effect of the curious
+story he had to relate. He omitted nothing, minimized no detail. From
+the moment of his entry into the office of Walker & Son, at Nuttonby, he
+gave a full and lucid narrative. Rather losing sight of his own altruism
+in his eagerness to show how essential it was that they should meet
+attack with the confidence engendered by being prepared for all possible
+developments, he was not aware of the wondering glances which Marguerite
+shot at him with increasing frequency.
+
+At last, he made an end. They had walked a mile or more, he talking
+steadily and the girl listening, only interposing a word now and again
+to show that she followed what he was saying, when he saw a man seated
+by the roadside at a little distance. The road dipped sharply at this
+point. They had crossed the first of a series of undulations which
+formed the great plateau of the moor, and Elmdale and its pastures were
+completely hidden.
+
+"Shall we turn back?" he said. "This fellow in front looks like a weary
+tourist, but I fancy you don't want to meet anyone just now, and I
+haven't noticed a branch path through the heather."
+
+Marguerite was gazing curiously at the bent figure. Her eyes held the
+expression of one who sees something familiar while the other senses
+refuse to be convinced. Armathwaite, by reason of the veil, could not
+see that half-startled, wholly skeptical look, but her attitude was
+enough.
+
+"Do you think you know that chap?" he said.
+
+Perhaps, in that quiet moorland, his voice carried farther than he
+imagined. Be that as it may, the tired one raised his drooping head, and
+looked their way.
+
+"Why, it is--it must be!" cried Marguerite excitedly, though no man
+could guess whether she was pleased or annoyed.
+
+"There can be no doubt about it," agreed Armathwaite.
+
+"But, don't you see, he's waving to us? It's Percy Whittaker! Has he
+dropped from the skies?"
+
+"With a bump, I should guess," said Armathwaite.
+
+But inwardly he raged. Were these complications never to cease? That
+dejected figure was eloquent of fate. Somehow, its worn and nerveless
+aspect was menacing.
+
+Yet, he laughed, being one who flaunted fortune in that way.
+
+"If it really is Percy, let's go and cheer him up," he said. "He looks
+as though he needed comforting."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A FAINT-HEARTED ALLY
+
+
+That moment was a vital one in the lives of those two; it influenced the
+lives of others in lesser degree, but to Marguerite Ogilvey and Robert
+Armathwaite it meant so much that the man, in calm review of events
+subsequently, saw that it stood out from minor incidents in exactly the
+same dominant proportion as James Walker's hurried descent on Mrs.
+Jackson's cottage on the preceding day.
+
+Had Walker remained in the dog-cart, and shouted for the keys of the
+Grange, Mrs. Jackson would have contrived, by hook or by crook, to delay
+the examination of the house until Betty had smuggled "Miss Meg" into
+safety, in which case Armathwaite would never have met her. And, now, if
+the girl had quickened her pace--in eager delight, perhaps, breaking
+into a run--had she, either by voice or manner, shown that the
+unforeseen presence of Percy Whittaker on the moor was not only an
+extraordinary event in itself, but one which she hailed with unmitigated
+joy, Armathwaite would assuredly have stifled certain vague whisperings
+of imagination which, ere long, might exercise a disastrous influence on
+the theory he held in common with a well-known British general--namely,
+that empire-builders should not be married. But she stood stock still,
+and, without turning her head so that Armathwaite might see her face,
+said quietly:
+
+"Well, it is the unexpected that happens, and the last person I dreamed
+of seeing to-day was Master Percy."
+
+"Are you sure it _is_ Whittaker?" inquired Armathwaite.
+
+He put the question merely for the sake of saying something banal and
+commonplace. Not for an instant did he doubt the accuracy of
+Marguerite's clear brown eyes; but, oddly enough, the behavior of the
+dejected figure by the roadside lent reasonable cause for the implied
+doubt. Never did tired wayfarer look more weary or disconsolate. After
+that first glance, and a listless gesture, the stranger showed no other
+sign of recognition. To all seeming, he had reached the limit of his
+resources, physical and mental.
+
+"Sure?" echoed the girl. "Of course, I'm sure. There's only one Percy,
+and it's there now, beastly fagged after a long walk on a hot day in
+thin patent-leather shoes. Doesn't it remind you of a plucked weed
+drooping in the sunshine?"
+
+She moved on, walking rapidly now, but a slight undertone of annoyance
+had crept into her voice, tinging her humor with sarcasm. Armathwaite
+said nothing. The sun-laved landscape glowed again after a few seconds
+of cold brilliance--a natural phenomenon all the more remarkable
+inasmuch as no cloud flecked the sky.
+
+Thus, in silence, they neared the limp individuality huddled dejectedly
+on a strip of turf by the roadside. To Armathwaite's carefully
+suppressed amusement, he saw that the wanderer was indeed wearing thin,
+patent-leather shoes.
+
+"Percy!" cried the girl.
+
+Percy looked up again. He drew the fore-finger of his right hand around
+the back of his neck between collar and skin, as though his head
+required adjustment in this new position.
+
+"Hallo, Meg!" he said, and the greeting was not only languid but bored.
+
+"What in the world are you doing here?" she went on, halting in front of
+him.
+
+"I dunno," he said. "I'm beastly fagged, I can tell you--"
+
+Armathwaite smiled, but Marguerite laughed outright.
+
+"There's nothing to grin at," came the querulous protest. "Once upon a
+time I labored under the impression that England was a civilized
+country, but now I find it's habitable only in parts, and this isn't one
+of the parts, not by a jolly long way. I say, Meg, you booked to
+Leyburn, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But you never walked over this moor?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Well, I wish I'd known as much about Yorkshire before I started as I do
+now--that's all."
+
+Again he twisted his neck and freed it from the chafing contact of a
+tight collar. After a curious peep at Armathwaite, he bent a pair of
+gray-green eyes on the turf at his feet once more.
+
+"Percy, don't be stupid, but tell me why you've come," cried Marguerite.
+"There's no bad news from home, is there?"
+
+"No--that's all right. Edie sent me."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You said you'd wire or write. When no telegram came yesterday, and no
+letter this morning, she bundled me off by the next train. 'Go and see
+what has become of her?' was the order, and here I am. Where am I,
+please?"
+
+"Near Elmdale. I'm awfully sorry, Percy. I--I couldn't either telegraph
+or write yesterday. I've written to-day--"
+
+"Near Elmdale!" he broke in. "Is it what the natives hereabouts call 'a
+canny bit' away?"
+
+"No--only a little over a mile. Poor Percy!"
+
+"Idiotic Percy! Percy, the silly ass! Percy, the blithering idiot! D'you
+see that suitcase?" and he swayed slightly, and directed a mournful
+glance at a small, leather portmanteau lying by his side. "I've sent
+that dashed thing, packed as it is now, by rail and parcels post scores
+of times, and they generally make it out as weighing about eleven
+pounds. That's a bally mistake. I must have swindled the railway
+companies and the Post Office out of a pot of money. It weighs a
+ton--one solid ton. And I've carried it dozens of miles. Me, mind you,
+who hates carrying things, clung to it as if my life depended on it. I
+started out from Leyburn station hours and hours ago. I asked a chap how
+far it was to Elmdale across the moor. He showed me the road, and said:
+'It's a gay bit, maister.' I climbed a hill at least five miles
+high--higher than any mountain in Europe I can remember reading
+about--and met a man. 'Is this the way to Elmdale?' I inquired. 'Ay,' he
+said. 'How far?' said I. 'It's a nice bit, maister,' said he. Being, as
+I thought, on top of the hill, I imagined that all I had to do was to
+walk down the other side; so I left him and rambled on. After walking
+miles and miles I met another man. 'How far to Elmdale?' I said. 'It's a
+canny bit, maister,' was his contribution. That knocked me out. I left
+him without another word. I staggered more miles, till I got this far;
+but when I saw the next hill I gave in. Tell me the worst, Meg, before I
+lie down and die. How far is it to Elmdale, really?"
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite will carry your suitcase, and I'll take your arm, and
+you'll be at the Grange in twenty minutes. It's all down hill after we
+leave this slight dip."
+
+"Mr. Armathwaite?" inquired Percy dully, quite ignoring the other man's
+courteous smile at the implied introduction.
+
+"Yes, the new tenant of our house."
+
+"First I've heard of any new tenant."
+
+"Nothing surprising in that," and Marguerite's voice grew almost snappy.
+"Get up, anyhow, unless you wish to have a mattress and a quilt brought
+here."
+
+The young man rose. He was not affecting a weariness he did not feel.
+Being a weedy youth, not built for feats of athleticism, the long walk
+in a hot sun over difficult country had taxed his physique unduly.
+
+"How d'ye do?" he said, raising lack-luster eyes to Armathwaite's.
+
+"I'm fit as a fiddle," said Armathwaite cheerfully, grabbing the
+portmanteau. "So will you be to-morrow. In fact, you'll be surprised how
+quickly your muscles will lose their stiffness when you sight the
+journey's end."
+
+"I've been doing that every five minutes during the past two hours," was
+the doleful answer.
+
+Armathwaite nodded sympathetically. Percy Whittaker struck him as a
+flabby creature, whose conversational style was unintentionally funny.
+Like Falstaff, if not humorous in himself, he was "the cause of humor in
+others."
+
+Truth to tell, Armathwaite gave him slight heed. He was mainly
+interested in Marguerite Ogilvey's attitude, and she was markedly
+irritated either by her friend's lackadaisical pose or because he had
+appeared at all. The girl softened, however, when she saw how Percy
+limped. She linked an arm in his, and the trio moved off.
+
+"How often have I told you to wear strong boots with good, stout soles?"
+she said. "I'm a good walker myself, but I don't tackle these moor roads
+in house slippers. Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite? One ought to be
+properly shod for trudging about the country."
+
+"You don't seem to understand that I hate trudging anywhere; the last
+thing I dreamed of when I left Chester this morning was that I should
+tramp half across Yorkshire," protested Whittaker.
+
+"Even now, I don't see why you came."
+
+"Couldn't help myself--Edie's orders."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Well--er--"
+
+"If you mean that she knew I had gone away intending to wear a boy's
+clothes you needn't spare my feelings. Mr. Armathwaite knows all about
+that."
+
+"Does he? In that case, I'm spared any explanation. You see, Edie was
+naturally anxious. As for me, I hardly slept a wink last night through
+worrying about you. And then, a letter came for you this morning from
+your father. I recognized his handwriting, and it's marked 'Immediate.'
+Since there was no news from you, we were at a loss to decide on the
+best course to adopt. Now, I appeal to you, Mr. Armathwaite. Suppose--"
+
+"I agree with you entirely," broke in Armathwaite. "I think Miss Ogilvey
+ought to be profoundly grateful for your self-sacrifice."
+
+"There, Meg, do you hear that? Self-sacrifice! I'm literally skinned in
+your service, and you only pitch into me. Now, I've done most of the
+talking. It's your turn. When are you coming home?"
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps."
+
+"But, I say, Meg! There'll be a howling row with your people when they
+find out."
+
+"Where is dad's letter? You've brought it, of course?"
+
+"Yes. Edie thought that was the best plan. Here you are!"
+
+He produced a letter from a breast pocket, and sat down instantly when
+the girl murmured an apology and opened the envelope. Armathwaite
+refilled his pipe, and lit it. While doing so he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was scrutinizing him with a curiously subtle underlook, and
+the notion was borne in on him that the newcomer, though effete in some
+respects, might be alert enough in others. For one thing, the tired
+gray-green eyes had suddenly become critical; for another, a weak mouth
+was balanced by a somewhat stubborn chin. For all his amusingly
+plaintive air, this young man could be vindictive if he chose. At any
+rate, Armathwaite realized that another barrier had been thrust in the
+way of Marguerite Ogilvey's untroubled departure from Elmdale. Percy
+Whittaker was obviously an intimate friend, and the extraordinary crisis
+which had arisen in the Ogilvey household could hardly remain hidden
+from him. What use would he make of the knowledge? How would such a
+flabby youth act in circumstances which were utterly perplexing to a man
+ten years his senior in age and immeasurably more experienced?
+Armathwaite could not make up his mind. He must simply bide his time and
+act as he deemed expedient in conditions that varied so remarkably from
+hour to hour. At the moment, he was in the position of the master of a
+ship becalmed in the tropics, surrounded by an unvexed sea and a
+cloudless sky, yet warned by a sharp fall in the barometer that a
+typhoon was imminent.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from the girl.
+
+"Just like dad!" she cried. "He writes asking me to search among the old
+bookshops of Chester for one of the very volumes I am bringing from his
+own library. He knows it is here, yet persists in disregarding the fact.
+Mr. Armathwaite, what _am_ I to think? Isn't it enough to turn one's
+hair gray?"
+
+"It is a puzzling situation, certainly," said Armathwaite, quickly alive
+to the fact that, in Whittaker's presence, at any rate, the cousinship
+had been dropped.
+
+"What is?" demanded Whittaker. "Not much to make a fuss about in
+searching for a book, is there?"
+
+"No. But suppose I tell you that people here declare my father is dead,
+that he committed suicide two years ago, that he is buried in a
+neighboring cemetery, that his ghost is seen o' nights in our own
+house--what would you say then, Percy?"
+
+"I'd say that the inhabitants are well suited to their country, and the
+sooner you and I are away from both, the better for the pair of us."
+
+Meg crumpled up the letter in one hand, and hauled Whittaker to his feet
+with the other.
+
+"Come on," she said emphatically. "If you hear the whole story now
+you'll collapse. I'm glad you've arrived, though I thought at first you
+were adding to my worries. You can help in clearing up a mystery. Now,
+don't interrupt, but listen! I'm going to give you a plain,
+straightforward version of events which sound like the maddest sort of
+nonsense. You wouldn't believe a word I'm telling you if Mr. Armathwaite
+wasn't present. But he will vouch for every syllable, and, when I've
+finished, you'll agree that when I said we would leave here, 'to-morrow,
+perhaps,' I might just as well have substituted 'next week' or 'next
+month' for 'to-morrow.' Isn't that so, Mr. Armathwaite?"
+
+Armathwaite removed his pipe from between teeth that were biting
+savagely into its stem. He wished the girl had been more discreet, yet,
+how could he forbid these confidences?
+
+"Yes, and no," he answered. "Yes, if you mean to constitute yourself
+into a court of inquiry; no, if you take my advice, and return to
+Chester with Mr. Whittaker without loss of time."
+
+"How is that possible?" she insisted, turning wondering eyes on him.
+"You yourself said that nothing we can do now will stop the authorities
+from re-opening the whole affair. There is no hope of closing people's
+mouths, Bob! Well, I've said it, and now Percy will be wild to learn the
+facts, because Meg Ogilvey doesn't run around calling by their Christian
+names men whom she has known a day without very good reason. But you
+don't know our local folk if you think our affairs are not being talked
+of in Elmdale and Nuttonby at this moment. Bland saw me, and James
+Walker will spread the tale far and wide. What good will I do by running
+away? Don't imagine I didn't hear what Walker said. He blurted out what
+you have hinted at. Some man was found dead in our house. It wasn't my
+father. Then, who was it?"
+
+In her excitement she was hurrying Percy along at a rare pace, and
+Armathwaite saw, with a chill of foreboding, that the other was stepping
+out without protest, all an ear for impending revelations.
+
+"From that point of view, Mr. Whittaker's presence is unquestionably
+advantageous," he said. "He is a friend in whom you can trust. He is
+acquainted with your relatives, I take it. His opinions will
+consequently be far weightier than mine."
+
+"That's the way Bob talks when he's grumpy," said the girl, apparently
+for Whittaker's benefit alone. "He doesn't mean it really, but he thinks
+he ought to behave like a stage uncle and prevent an impulsive young
+thing from acting foolishly. Yet, all the time, he knows quite well that
+we could no more change the course of events now than hold back the
+tide."
+
+"Will you kindly remember that if you were talking Greek, I'd have just
+about as much grasp of what you're saying as I have at this moment?" put
+in Whittaker.
+
+Thus recalled to her task, Marguerite did not deviate from it any
+further. By the time Percy Whittaker had dropped into a chair in the
+dining-room, he had heard exactly what had happened since Armathwaite
+arrived in Elmdale. As he was hungry, a meal was improvised. He said
+little, only interpolating a fairly shrewd question now and again while
+Marguerite was amplifying some part of her recital. About this time he
+developed a new trait. He seemed rather to shirk comments which would
+draw Armathwaite into the conversation. When the girl appealed to the
+latter to verify some statement of fact, Whittaker remained silent. Even
+when it was necessary to refer directly to Armathwaite, he did so
+obliquely.
+
+"You've spun a jolly queer yarn, Meg," he said, after she had retailed,
+for the second time, and with evident gusto, the discomfiture of James
+Walker. "I think it would be a good notion now if we found out what
+really did occur in this house after you and your mother went away.
+Didn't you say there was a newspaper report of the inquest handy?"
+
+"Betty Jackson promised to give it to Mr. Armathwaite."
+
+"Well, couldn't we see it?"
+
+"I'll go and ask her for it," said Armathwaite, and he left the room.
+
+"Tell you what, Meg," drawled Percy, pouring out a third cup of tea,
+"you're making a howling mistake in letting that chap share your
+confidence."
+
+Marguerite's eyebrows curved in astonishment. The very suddenness of
+this attack was disconcerting.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried.
+
+"It's not always easy to give reasons for one's ideas. I was just
+thinking that he's a complete stranger, and here he is acting as though
+he was the head of the family. Who is he? Where does he come from? Why
+is he poking his nose into your private affairs? By gad, I can see Edie
+sniffing at him if she was here in my place!"
+
+Some gleam of intuition warned the girl that she must repress the sharp
+retort on her lips.
+
+"Then I am glad your sister is not here," she said quietly. "You must
+have woefully misunderstood every word I have uttered if you imagine
+that Mr. Armathwaite has done anything but strive manfully to keep a
+sordid story from my ken. He tried to make me go away this morning, and
+again this afternoon. He would certainly send me off early to-morrow if
+he were not afraid of some terrible thing happening. Please don't begin
+by being prejudiced against Mr. Armathwaite. I have enough trouble
+staring me in the face to dispense with absurd suspicions of one who has
+been a very real friend."
+
+Whittaker seemed to weigh the point. Marguerite's self-control probably
+angered him as greatly as any other of the amazing things which had come
+to his knowledge during the past hour. He had expected her to bridle in
+defense of the man in whom she reposed such trust; her very calmness was
+unexpected and annoying.
+
+"What will your people say when the whole business comes out?" he
+grumbled. "Dash it, Meg, I must speak plainly! It's no joke, you know,
+your coming here and being alone in the house with some fellow whom you
+never heard of before in your life."
+
+Her face paled, and her brown eyes had a glint of fire in them; but with
+a splendid effort, she managed again to frame words other than those
+eager to burst forth.
+
+"You miss the real problem that calls for solution," she said
+tremulously. "The consequences of my actions, no matter how foolish they
+may have been, count for nothing in comparison with the tragedy with
+which my father's name is bound up. Oh, Percy, don't you see what people
+must think? A man committed suicide in this house, and every one
+believed it was my father. Yet you yourself, less than an hour ago,
+brought me a letter written by my father yesterday! Suppose I leave
+Elmdale this instant--suppose, which is impossible, that the present
+excitement dies down--how can I go through life with such a ghastly
+secret weighing me down? It would drive me crazy!"
+
+Armathwaite's firm tread was audible as he crossed the hall.
+
+"Anyhow, take my tip, and don't blurt out everything you know the minute
+you're asked," muttered her counselor, and the door opened.
+
+Armathwaite drew a chair to the window and unfolded a frayed newspaper,
+laying another on his knees. To all appearance, he had noted neither the
+sullen discontent in one face nor the white anguish in the other.
+
+"This is a copy of the _Nuttonby Gazette_, dated June 22nd, two years
+ago," he said. "It contains what appears to be a verbatim report of the
+opening day's inquest, which seems to have created a rare stir, judging
+by the scare heads and space allotted to it. Will it distress you, Miss
+Ogilvey, if I go through it from beginning to end?"
+
+"Yes, it will distress me very greatly, but I don't see how I can avoid
+hearing it. If one visits the dentist there is no use in pretending that
+having a tooth drawn doesn't hurt. Please read every word."
+
+He obeyed without further preamble. It was a disagreeable task, but he
+did not flinch from it, though well aware that the gruesome details
+would shock one of his hearers inexpressibly. Divested of the
+loud-sounding phrases with which a country reporter loves to clothe any
+incident of a sensational character, the newspaper added nothing to the
+facts already related by Betty Jackson and Police-constable Leadbitter,
+except a letter written and signed by the deceased man, in which he
+declared he had taken his own life because he was suffering from an
+incurable disease. It was only when the succeeding issue of the
+_Nuttonby Gazette_ was scanned, with its report of the adjourned
+inquest, that new light was vouchsafed.
+
+The coroner was a Mr. Hill, a local solicitor; a Dr. Scaife, from
+Bellerby, who had conducted a post-mortem examination, had excited Mr.
+Hill's ire by his excessive caution in describing the cause of death.
+
+"I found no symptoms of what is popularly known as 'incurable disease,'"
+said the doctor. "The brain, heart, liver, lungs, and internal organs
+generally were in a fairly healthy state except for ordinary post-mortem
+indications. Death by hanging is usually capable of clear diagnosis.
+There is excessive fluidity of the blood, with hyperaemia of the lungs.
+The right side of the heart is engorged, and the left nearly empty. The
+mucous membrane of the trachea is injected, and appears of a
+cinnabar-red color. The abdominal veins are congested, and apoplexy of
+the brain is present as a secondary symptom. Contrary to common belief,
+the eyes do not start from the head, and the tongue seldom protrudes
+beyond the teeth. Indeed, the expression of the face does not differ
+from that seen in other forms of death, and, in this connection, it must
+be remembered that death, the result of disease, may present all the
+signs of death by suffocation. The body showed few of these indices."
+
+"Would you mind telling us what you are driving at, Dr. Scaife?" the
+coroner had asked. "Here is a man found hanging in his house, leaving a
+letter addressed to me in which he states his intention beyond a doubt.
+Do you wish the jury to believe that his death may nevertheless have
+been a natural one?"
+
+"No," was the reply. "I do not say that. But the absence of certain
+symptoms, and the presence of others, make it essential that I should
+state that Mr. Garth might just as well have died from apoplexy as from
+strangulation."
+
+"Are we to understand that Mr. Garth may have died from apoplexy and
+afterwards hanged himself?"
+
+"That would be nonsense," said Dr. Scaife.
+
+"I agree, most emphatically. Do you refuse to certify as to the cause of
+death?"
+
+"No. I am merely fulfilling a duty by pointing out what I regard as
+discrepancies in the post-mortem conditions. I looked for signs of
+organic disease. There was none."
+
+Evidently, coroner and doctor were inclined to be testy with each other,
+and the newspaper report left the impression that Dr. Scaife was a
+hair-splitter. In the result, a verdict of "Suicide, while in a state of
+unsound mind," was returned.
+
+There followed a description of the interment in Bellerby churchyard of
+"the mortal remains of Stephen Garth," when the vicar read a "modified
+form of the burial service," while the "continued absence from Elmdale
+of the dead man's wife and daughter," was referred to without other
+comment.
+
+When Armathwaite laid aside the second newspaper, no one spoke for a
+minute or more. Percy Whittaker was seemingly interested in the effort
+of a fly to extract nutriment from a lump of sugar; Marguerite Ogilvey
+was staring at vacancy with wide-open, terror-laden eyes; Armathwaite
+himself appeared to be turning over the baffling problem in his mind.
+
+At last, Whittaker stirred uneasily.
+
+"What time does the post leave here, Meg?" he inquired. "I want to send
+Edie a line. She'll have a bad fit of the jumps if she hears from
+neither of us to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+WHEREIN PERCY WHITTAKER PROVES HIMSELF A MAN OF ACTION
+
+
+The rather bizarre question startled the girl out of her melancholy
+thoughts. She looked at Whittaker as though she had completely forgotten
+his presence.
+
+"The post," she repeated. "There is no post out of Elmdale this evening.
+Miggles passed through the village hours ago."
+
+"Miggles?"
+
+"He's the postman. We either see him ourselves or leave letters at
+Thompson's, the grocer's, before four o'clock."
+
+"Then neither letter nor telegram can be dispatched to-night?"
+
+"Yes. If you care to pay mileage to Bellerby, and the message is handed
+in before eight, Thompson will send a boy with a telegram."
+
+Whittaker glanced at his watch. The hour was half-past six.
+
+"How far is Bellerby?" he said. "Tell me in terms of the clock, not in
+miles, which, as a method of reckoning in Yorkshire, conveys a sense of
+infinity."
+
+"A boy can bicycle there in half an hour."
+
+"Then, footsore as I am, I shall hie me to Thompson's."
+
+"Why not write your telegram here, and Betty will take it."
+
+"No, thanks. I'll see to it myself. Then, if it doesn't reach Edie
+to-night, I can place a hand on my heart and vow I did all man could do,
+and failed."
+
+"You are not forgetting that I have written to her?"
+
+"No. Don't you see? A letter from you complicates matters even more. If
+she hears from Meg, and not a word is said about Percy, she'll wonder
+what has become of little me. I suppose Thompson's shop is not 'a nice
+bit' removed from the village?"
+
+"It is opposite the Fox and Hounds Inn. You can walk there in two
+minutes."
+
+Armathwaite, who had risen, and was staring through the window during
+this brief colloquy, was struck by the quietly pertinacious note in
+Whittaker's voice. Moreover, he was listening carefully, since there was
+some faint trace of an accent which had a familiar sound in his ears. He
+waited, until the younger man had gone out and was walking gingerly down
+the garden path; progress downhill must have been a torture to sore
+toes, yet Whittaker was strangely determined to send that unnecessary
+telegram in person--unnecessary, that is, in view of the fact that a
+message dispatched next morning would have served the same purpose. Why?
+Armathwaite found that life bristled with interrogatives just then.
+
+Turning to look at Marguerite, he said:
+
+"Your friend doesn't like me."
+
+She did not attempt to fence with him. Somehow, when her eyes met his, a
+new strength leaped in her heart.
+
+"Percy flatters himself on the ease with which he follows the line of
+least resistance, but in reality he is a somewhat shallow and
+transparent person," she answered.
+
+"There is a transparency of shallowness which occasionally hides a
+certain depth of mud."
+
+"Oh, he means no harm! His widowed sister, Mrs. Suarez, is a great
+stickler for the conventions, and she has infected him with her notions.
+She is the 'Edie' he speaks of. _My_ chum is a younger sister,
+Christabel."
+
+"Suarez? An unusual name in England."
+
+"She married a Calcutta merchant. The Whittakers are Anglo-Indians."
+
+Armathwaite smiled. He knew now whence came that slightly sibilant
+accent. Whittaker was a blonde Eurasian, a species so rare that it was
+not surprising that even a close observer should have failed to detect
+the "touch of the tar-brush" at first sight. From that instant
+Armathwaite regarded him from an entirely new view-point. The Briton who
+has lived many years in the East holds firmly to the dogmatic principle
+that in the blend of two races the Eurasian is dowered with the virtues
+of neither and the vices of both. More than ever did he regret the
+qualms of the conventional Mrs. Suarez which had brought Percy Whittaker
+to Elmdale that day.
+
+"I'm sorry he deems it advisable to distrust me," he went on. "How long
+have you been acquainted with the family?"
+
+"Ever since I went to school with Christabel at Brighton. She often came
+here during the summer holidays; and I used to visit her at
+Whitsuntide."
+
+"They are aware of your change of name, of course?"
+
+"Yes. How could it be otherwise?"
+
+"A thoughtless question indeed. The notion was flitting through my mind
+that no one in Elmdale knew of it, or the fact was bound to have been
+made public at the inquest. The doctor who gave evidence--was he your
+regular medical attendant?"
+
+"He was an intimate friend rather than a doctor. He knew dad so well
+that he would scout the idea of suicide. Perhaps that explains his
+hesitating statement to the coroner. Oh, Mr. Armathwaite, what does it
+all mean? Was ever girl plunged into such a sea of trouble? What _am_ I
+to do?"
+
+"Don't you think you ought to send for your mother?"
+
+"If she were here now she could only say what I am saying--that my
+father is alive and in the best of health."
+
+"Forgive me if I seem to be cross-examining you, but I am groping
+blindly towards some theory which shall satisfy two conditions wholly
+irreconcilable at present. Your mother and you went away from Elmdale,
+leaving your father here. Do you remember the exact reason given for
+your departure?"
+
+"One day dad asked me to read some passages from a French treatise on
+Basque songs. It was rather technical stuff, and I stumbled over the
+translation, so he said I was losing my French, and that mother and I
+should go to Paris for a few weeks, and do a round of theaters. Of
+course, I was delighted--what girl wouldn't be? I couldn't pack quickly
+enough. When Paris emptied, towards the end of June, we went to Quimper,
+in Brittany. And there was another excuse, too. About that time we
+received news of the legacy, and dad thought we should get accustomed
+to the change of name more readily in a foreign country."
+
+"How long did you remain abroad?"
+
+"Nearly three months. But dad joined us within a fortnight of our
+departure from England. He only remained at home to finish a book and
+clear up the lawyer's business about the money."
+
+"After your return, what happened?"
+
+"We had a month in London. Then my people took a house in Cornwall, near
+the village of Warleggan, a place tucked in beneath the moors, just as
+Elmdale is. Dad explained that he wanted to study the miracle plays at
+first hand, because the remnants of the language possessed by the old
+inhabitants were more helpful than grammars and Oxford translations."
+
+"Your mother raised no difficulties about the change of residence?"
+
+"Not the least. In a way, it was rather agreeable, both to mother and
+me. Here we saw very few people. In Warleggan, where dad's pen-name, now
+his own legally, gave him some social standing, the county families
+called. We were richer, too, and could afford to entertain, which we
+never did while in Elmdale."
+
+Armathwaite passed a hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of sheer
+bewilderment.
+
+"I still hold strongly to the opinion that you should send for Mrs.
+Ogilvey," he said, striving to cloak the motive underlying the
+suggestion, since he was assured now that the half-forgotten tragedy of
+the Grange would speedily burst into a new and sinister prominence in
+far-off Warleggan. "If she were here she could direct my efforts to
+choke off inquirers. We may be acting quite mistakenly. She knows
+everything--I am convinced of that--and her appearance would, in itself,
+serve to put matters on a more normal basis."
+
+Marguerite sprang to her feet. Her fine eyes blazed with uncontrollable
+excitement, and her voice held a ring of defiance.
+
+"If my mother ought to come, why not my father?" she cried vehemently.
+"I know what you are thinking, but dare not say. You believe my father
+is a murderer? Is that it? You imagine that a man who would not wilfully
+harm a fly is capable of committing a dreadful crime and shielding
+himself under the assumption that he took his own life?"
+
+"Isn't that rather unjust of you?" said Armathwaite.
+
+"I'm not considering the justice or injustice of my words now. I am
+defending one whom I love. I----"
+
+She choked, and buried her face in her hands. Bitterly aware that he was
+only adding to her woes, he nerved himself for the ungracious task.
+
+"You are trying, like myself, to explain a set of extraordinary
+circumstances," he said. "Woman-like, you do not scruple to place on my
+shoulders the burden of your own vague suspicions. I am not so greatly
+concerned as you seem to imagine because of the possibility that your
+father may have killed someone. Unhappily, I myself have killed several
+men, in fair fight, and in the service of my country, but there is no
+blood-guiltiness on my conscience. Before I venture to describe any man
+as a murderer, I want to know whom he killed, and why."
+
+He made this amazing statement with the calm air of a sportsman
+contrasting the "bags" of rival grouse moors. Even in her bitter
+distress the girl was constrained to gaze at him in wonderment.
+
+"You think that the taking of human life may be justifiable?" she
+gasped.
+
+"Naturally. If not, why do we honor great soldiers with pensions and
+peerages?"
+
+"But that is in warfare, when nations are struggling for what they
+conceive to be their rights."
+
+"Sometimes. The hardest tussle I was ever engaged in dealt with no more
+sacred trust than the safe-guarding of half a dozen bullocks. Certain
+fierce-whiskered scoundrels swore by the Prophet that they would rieve
+those cattle, and perhaps a rifle or two, with a collection of women's
+ornaments as a side line, while I was equally resolved that the lawful
+possessors thereof should not be harried. Fifteen men died in five
+minutes before the matter was settled in accordance with my wishes, and
+I accounted for three of them. I am not boasting of the achievement. It
+was a disagreeable necessity. I tell you of it now merely to dissipate
+any notion you may have formed as to my squeamishness in looking
+unpleasant facts squarely in the face. A man died here two years ago,
+and it would be sheer folly to pretend that your father knew nothing
+about it. I believe you will find that the dead man not only wore Mr.
+Garth's clothes, but bore such a close facial and physical resemblance
+to him that people who had known him half a lifetime were deceived.
+Then, there is the letter read by the coroner. I take it for granted
+that it was in your father's handwriting. If these things are true, and
+common sense tells me that we ought to go on that assumption, and on no
+other, Mr. Garth will surely be called upon to explain why he endeavored
+to hoodwink the authorities. If he comes here within the next few days
+he will certainly be arrested. That is why I ask you to send for your
+mother. Everything points to the belief that she knows why you left
+Elmdale. I reject the legacy theory _in toto_. By a strange coincidence,
+your parents may have had some money left to them by will about that
+time. If so, they merely took advantage of the fortunate chance which
+enabled them to explain the change of name without any violent wrenching
+of the probabilities. One word more to define my own position in this
+matter. I don't care tuppence whether or not your father killed anyone,
+or why. My sole concern is for you. I am responsible for the whole
+wretched muddle. Had I not gratified an impish taste for ferreting out
+mysteries, I would have allowed Betty Jackson to smuggle you out of the
+house yesterday. Had I obeyed the conventions--those shackles on the
+wayward-minded devised by generations of careful mammas--I would have
+bundled you off last night, or, if common charity forbade, sent you away
+at daybreak. Then, nothing would have happened, except that I should be
+burdened with a secret, no new thing in _my_ life. Now, will you send
+for Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"No," came the instant reply.
+
+"Despite Mr. Percy Whittaker's warning, will you trust me so far as to
+explain your reason for refusing?"
+
+"What do you mean by 'Percy Whittaker's warning'? I have told you
+nothing of what he said."
+
+"I understand the type of man. He could no more refrain from suggesting
+that I was actuated by some underhanded motive than a flea-ridden dog
+from scratching."
+
+"Please, don't pick a quarrel with Percy on my account," she pleaded
+tearfully.
+
+"On your account I shall suffer Percy, even though he bray me in a
+mortar."
+
+"Well, then, I'm--I'm sorry if I turned on you a little while ago. I
+apologize. You are really the only one I can appeal to for help at this
+moment. It was just because I felt the truth of all that you have said
+that I tried to force the same confession from you. Heaven help me, I am
+compelled to believe that my poor father got himself involved in some
+dreadful crime. It will all come out now. If the police get hold of him
+he will be put in prison. I must save him. Never did daughter love a
+father more than I love mine, and I'll sacrifice everything, reputation,
+happiness, even life itself, for his sake. And that is why my mother
+must not come here. I shall remain, and she will stay in Cornwall so as
+to safeguard him, if need be. You have no idea what an innocent he is in
+worldly affairs. If--if he had to escape--to get away from some foreign
+country--he could never manage it without her assistance. Don't you see,
+the decision must rest with me? I'll write to mother, and tell her what
+we know, and arrange some plan with her whereby dad will be able to
+avoid arrest. Oh, I can't make things clearer, but you are so kind and
+nice that you will understand--and help! Say you'll help, and I'll not
+cry any more--but be brave--and confident!"
+
+While uttering that broken appeal she had come near, and a timid hand
+now rested on his shoulder. He looked down into her swimming eyes and
+saw there the perfect faith of a child. Never was man more tempted to
+take a woman in his arms and kiss away her fears than was Robert
+Armathwaite at that instant, but he recoiled from the notion as though a
+snake had reared its basilisk head from out of a bed of sweet-scented
+flowers. Nevertheless, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and now his
+left arm was entwined with her right arm, and they stood there in
+unconsciously lover-like pose.
+
+"I'm glad you said that, little girl," he said quietly. "I shall not
+disappoint you, depend on that. If we have to break every statute
+therein made and provided, we'll save your father from the consequences
+of his own blundering or wrong-doing. Now, leave everything to me. If
+strangers, other than the police, ask you questions, refer them to your
+'cousin.' Remember, you know nothing and can tell nothing as to bygone
+events, while you can say, if a demand is made for your father's present
+address, that I have advised you not to supply it. We must not appear to
+be actually defying the authorities. Our role is one of blank ignorance,
+combined with a pardonable curiosity to discover what all the fuss is
+about. I must not figure as a hindrance to inquiry, but merely as a
+distant relative who objects to your being bothered by a matter of which
+you, at least, have no knowledge. Now, one thing more--I want to see
+your father's handwriting. Will you give me the envelope which contained
+his letter?"
+
+"Better still," said Marguerite, drying her eyes with a scrap of lace
+which was supposed to be a pocket-handkerchief, "I'll give you the
+letter itself. You'll find it a highly incriminating document."
+
+To reach the letter, which she had tucked into a waistbelt, she had to
+withdraw the other hand from Armathwaite's shoulder. He had no excuse to
+hold her any longer in that protecting way, and his own hands fell.
+Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he became aware that Percy
+Whittaker was gazing at them through the window.
+
+His first impulse was to tell his companion of this covert espionage,
+for it was nothing less. The two were talking in the drawing-room, so
+Whittaker had purposely walked past the porch in order to look in at
+them. Then he decided that the girl had worries in plenty without
+embroiling her with one who was admittedly an admirer, so he indulged in
+a little bit of acting on his own account.
+
+When she produced the letter, he turned his back on the window,
+ostensibly to obtain a better light, and, at the same time, drew
+slightly to one side. The handwriting was scholarly but curiously
+legible, betraying the habit of a dabbler in strange words who printed
+rather than wrote, lest some playful compositor should invent a new and
+confounding philology.
+
+The text certainly afforded a weird commentary on the circumstances
+which laid at the writer's door responsibility for an audacious crime.
+It ran:
+
+     "MY DARLING MEG,--Chester has been a bookish city since the days of
+     Julius Caesar. I have small doubt, if one dug deep in its
+     foundations, one would come across an original manuscript in J.
+     C.'s own fist. I would impose a lighter task, however. Rummage one
+     or two old bookshops, and get me Wentworth Webster's 'Basque
+     Legends,' published in London in 1877 and 1879. I am hungering for
+     it. Find it quickly, and come home. I need your sharp eyes.--Yours
+     ever,
+
+     "Dad."
+
+Marguerite watched Armathwaite's face while he read.
+
+"Enough to hang anybody, isn't it?" she cried, with dolorous effort to
+speak in lighter vein.
+
+"May I retain this? I shall take good care of it."
+
+"Keep it as a souvenir. The identical book is lying on the library
+table."
+
+Yet her mobile face clouded again, since it could not be denied that her
+father knew well that the book was in the Elmdale house, and was
+deliberately ignoring its existence there.
+
+Armathwaite affected to look through the window.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "Whittaker has come back."
+
+Whittaker, standing sideways, seemingly discovered them simultaneously.
+He came in.
+
+"Thompson speaks a language of his own," he drawled; "but the dispatch
+of a boy on a bicycle, and the resultant charge of three shillings, gave
+color to my belief that he understood the meaning of 'telegram.'
+Otherwise, his remarks were gibberish."
+
+"Percy," said Marguerite gravely, "Mr. Armathwaite and I have had a
+serious talk while you were out. He advised me to send for my mother,
+but, for various reasons, I have decided to fight this battle myself,
+with your aid, and Mr. Armathwaite's, of course."
+
+Whittaker hesitated perceptibly before he spoke again. Like all
+neurotics, he had to flog himself into decision.
+
+"I fully expected something of the sort, Meg," he said at last. "As I
+don't approve of the present state of affairs, I took it on myself to
+ask Edie to wire Mrs. Ogilvey, bidding her travel north by the next
+train."
+
+"You didn't dare!" breathed the girl, whose very lips whitened with
+consternation.
+
+"Oh, yes, I dared all right! A fellow must assert himself occasionally,
+you know. I can see plainly that you intend remaining in Elmdale till
+the mystery you have tumbled into is cleared up. In that case, your
+mother is the right person to take hold of the situation. You'll be
+vexed with me, no doubt, and tell me that I had no business to
+interfere, but I've thought this thing out, and I'm backing my judgment
+against yours. In a week, or less, you'll thank me. See if you don't."
+
+"I shall never forgive you while I have breath in my body," she said,
+speaking with a slow laboriousness that revealed the tension of her
+feelings far more than the mere words.
+
+"I was sure you'd say that, and must put up with it for the time being.
+Anyhow, the thing is beyond our control now, and you know Edie well
+enough to guess that she'll do as I tell her."
+
+"What did you tell her? I have a right to ask."
+
+"I kept a copy of the message," he said with seeming nonchalance. "I'll
+read it: 'Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death which
+occurred in Grange two years ago. Telegraph her mother at once, and
+recommend immediate journey to Elmdale.' Unless I'm greatly mistaken,
+that will bring Mrs. Ogilvey here without delay, especially when Edie
+adds her own comments."
+
+Marguerite sank into a chair. Her sky had fallen. She was too unnerved
+now to find relief even in tears. She continued to glower at Whittaker
+as though he had become some fearsome and abhorrent object. Evidently,
+however, he had steeled himself against some such attitude on her part.
+
+"Don't forget there's two to one in this argument, Meg," he said,
+sitting down and producing a cigarette. "Since Mr. Armathwaite has
+elected to be your champion after a very brief acquaintance, I must
+point out that, by your own admission, he recommended the same thing.
+The only difference is that while he talked I acted."
+
+For a little time there was silence. Whittaker, brazening the thing out,
+lighted the cigarette. Armathwaite, unable to indulge the impulse which
+suggested the one effective way in which this decadent half-breed could
+be restrained from future interference, could not trust himself to
+speak. As for the girl, she seemed to be tongue-tied, but her laboring
+breath gave eloquent testimony of surcharged emotions.
+
+Finally, wishing to ease the strain, Armathwaite glanced at his watch.
+The time was a few minutes after seven.
+
+"I'm going into the village," he said. "I believe the dinner hour is
+7:30, but I may not return till much later, so you might kindly tell
+Betty that I shall forage for myself when I come in."
+
+"Don't leave me, Bob," came the despairing cry. "I can't bear to be left
+alone to-night."
+
+"Very well," he said, yielding instantly to that heart-felt appeal.
+"I'll entrust my business to a deputy. Look for me in ten minutes."
+
+He went out. The two in the room heard the front door close, and
+followed his firm tread as he strode to the gate. Then Marguerite rose,
+and flung wide a window, and her sorrow-laden eyes dwelt unseeing on the
+far horizon. She stood there, motionless, until Whittaker stirred
+fretfully.
+
+"Look here, Meg," he began, but was promptly stricken into silence
+again. Starting at the sound of his voice as though she had heard a
+serpent's hiss, the girl hurried away without a word, obviously making
+for the solitude of her own apartment.
+
+He lighted another cigarette.
+
+"By gad!" he cackled to himself, apparently extracting amusement from a
+situation in which the majority of men would have found small cause for
+humor, "I've stopped those two from billing and cooing, or my name ain't
+Percy. I can't stomach that big chap, and that's a fact. He's just the
+sort of fellow a girl might lose her head over, but I've put a spoke in
+his wheel by bringing ma on the scene. Now I must sit tight, and play
+naughty little boy in the corner till she arrives. After that, I'll make
+it my business to shunt pa into some climate better suited for his
+particular complaint. Maybe I shan't figure so badly in Meg's estimation
+when she realizes that I did some hard thinking while the other johnny
+was making eyes at her. I've been looking for some sort of an explosion
+in this quarter ever since I read of the suicide of Stephen Garth at the
+Grange, Elmdale. I thought then there was something fishy going on, and
+I was jolly well not mistaken. If I hadn't been such a dashed fool as to
+tramp over that confounded moor I'd have been here hours sooner. But
+all's well that ends well, and this affair shan't slip out of my grip if
+I can help it."
+
+He had chosen a strange way in which to woo a maid, but there is no
+accounting for the vagaries of a warped mind, and Percy Whittaker was a
+true degenerate, one of those physically weak and mentally perverted
+beings
+
+    "In whose cold blood no spark of honor bides."
+
+Yet, even his sluggish pulses could be stirred. The house which had
+witnessed strange scenes played by stronger actors might be trusted to
+deal sternly with this popinjay. He got his first taste of its quality
+before he was an hour older.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SHOWING THE REAL STRENGTH OF AN ILLUSION
+
+
+Armathwaite went straight to Farmer Burt's house. He reasoned that Burt
+would be a likely possessor of a smart cob, and that among the farm
+hands would exist at least one boy of sufficient intelligence to carry
+through a simple commission without error. He was lucky in finding the
+farmer at home, watering his stock before completing the hay-making
+operations. In the bleak North the agriculturist wastes no time when the
+weather is propitious. If need be, Burt and his men would work till
+nearly midnight, and feel well pleased if thereby the last rick of dry,
+sweet-smelling hay was covered with a tarpaulin.
+
+Explanation, backed by ample payment, produced both the boy and the cob.
+In the result, the following telegram was handed in at Bellerby
+post-office ten minutes before the closing hour of eight:
+
+     "Postmaster, York,--Kindly give this telegram and accompanying ten
+     pounds to proprietor of principal garage in York. I want to hire
+     powerful and reliable car with experienced chauffeur for one week
+     at least. Will pay full rates on condition that car reaches me by
+     noon to-morrow, Friday. Chauffeur should bring ample supply of
+     petrol, as none available here. I send ten pounds as guarantee for
+     order, and will remit balance of first week's charge in accordance
+     with instructions conveyed by chauffeur. Owner of car will oblige
+     by telegraphing acceptance of offer, with name and address, early
+     to-morrow, paying porterage, which will be refunded.--ARMATHWAITE,
+     The Grange, Elmdale, via Bellerby."
+
+It was a singular fact that the really effective means of burking
+inquiry by the local authorities only occurred to Armathwaite's
+perplexed brain as he was hurrying back to the Grange. When all was said
+and done, who in Elmdale actually knew that the erstwhile Stephen Garth
+was living? His daughter and Percy Whittaker! He, Armathwaite, could not
+even be certain that Whittaker had ever seen the man. Well, then,
+Marguerite had only to vow that her earlier statement was a sheer
+invention, a species of joke inspired by the worst possible taste--and
+Stephen Garth would rest quietly in his grave! The pretense left the
+mystery insoluble as ever where the girl herself was concerned, but
+that phase of the difficulty might be dealt with in the privacy of her
+own home. The chief draw-back--an official inquiry, with its
+far-reaching developments--would be surmounted. The Jacksons might be
+trusted to forget everything they had heard that day. There remained
+James Walker. Well, his evidence was discredited at the outset.
+Armathwaite himself would be a most convincing witness against Walker.
+It would be easy to show that the pushful and amorous youth who had
+bluffed his way into the house in order to insult a lady who would have
+nothing to do with him, and was forcibly ejected by the new tenant, had
+fallen into a singular and most amazing blunder when he said that
+Marguerite Garth had told him that her father was still alive.
+
+The more Armathwaite reviewed this possible way out of a really
+threatening situation the more he liked it. The surprising thing was
+that he had not thought of it sooner. Even Percy Whittaker's confounded
+impertinence in telegraphing to his sister was robbed of its sting.
+Suppose the police got wind of the message, they would make little of
+it. How did it run? "Meg greatly disturbed by rumors concerning death
+which occurred in Grange two years ago." It was awkwardly phrased,
+perhaps, but was capable of explanation. She was "disturbed" by the
+"rumors." What rumors? Not that her father was not dead, but that some
+other man had died and been buried in his place! Who had spread the
+rumors? Why, Walker himself! Had he not jeered at Marguerite, and
+endeavored to palliate his offense by repeating the absurd tittle-tattle
+to the man who had kicked him out of the house? Thin ice, this; but it
+might bear if not pressed unduly. By rare luck Whittaker had asked his
+sister to communicate with the girl's mother. There was no reference to
+her father. In effect, a friend of long standing had recognized the fact
+that she had only one parent left.
+
+Armathwaite was bothered by no scruples in this matter. He had promised
+Marguerite Ogilvey his help in her efforts to safeguard the father whom
+she held so dear, and he would fulfill his bond to the letter.
+Personally, he ran no risk. His acquaintance with Elmdale and its
+strange tragedy was only a day old. As for Marguerite herself, no jury
+in the land would punish a daughter who lied to protect her own father.
+There remained Percy Whittaker. What crooked line would that
+curiously-constituted youth take? He could be bribed into acquiescence;
+but what terms would he exact? Armathwaite felt a certain tightening of
+his lips when he answered his own question. At any rate, the vitally
+important thing now was to gain time, and he was confident that a bold
+front would carry a most attractive and winsome girl past the dangers of
+the morrow.
+
+Oddly enough, as he neared the Grange, the old house itself seemed to
+smile at him in a friendly and encouraging way. The setting sun lent
+warmth to its gray walls and glinted cheerfully from its windows. One
+pane of glass in particular--probably because it had a slightly convex
+surface--a pane in one of the windows of Meg's bedroom, winked
+continuously as his body swayed with each onward stride. It might have
+been saying:
+
+"Leave it to me! Leave it to me! I've watched ten generations of men and
+women passing beneath, and I know how gently Time deals with humanity's
+sorrows."
+
+The idea so obsessed him that he loitered inside the gate, and glanced
+up to see if, by any chance, Marguerite might be in the room and have
+noticed his approach. Yes, she was there! She threw open the window,
+which, in view of what happened within the next half-minute, moved
+upward with a noiseless ease that was absolutely uncanny.
+
+"Dinner is just coming in," she said. "Betty has put some hot water in
+your bedroom, the one opposite this, and you must hurry over your
+toilet."
+
+"I also have good news," he answered gayly. "I've hit on a plan that
+should rout the enemy."
+
+"Which enemy?" she asked in a lower tone.
+
+"The powers that be," and he waved a comprehensive arm to indicate the
+world at large. "By putting back the clock twenty-four hours we defeat
+every sort of combination that can take the field against us. I'll
+propound the scheme at dinner, so prepare to feast with a light heart."
+
+With expressive pantomime she inquired if Percy Whittaker was to share
+their council, and he replied with a nod. He was loth to deprive his
+eyes of the perfect picture she offered there, with her elbows resting
+on the window-sill, her head and shoulders set, as it were, in a frame,
+and the last rays of the sun brightening her pallid cheeks and weaving
+strands of spun gold in her brown hair. But the summons from the kitchen
+was not to be flouted, so he made for the door.
+
+It will be remembered that the hall was lighted directly from the upper
+part of the front door, and the stained-glass window on the half-landing
+of the stairs. Indirectly, its gloom could be dissipated by any one of
+three interior doors, but all of them happened to be closed. Thus, when
+Armathwaite's tall figure appeared in the porch, it effectually withdrew
+the light gained through the glass in the front door until the door
+itself was opened.
+
+He had his hand on the handle when he heard a most weird groaning and
+shrieking caused by the closing of the bedroom window. Practically in
+the same instant he caught an affrighted yell from inside the house, and
+some one shot violently down the stairs and into the hall, falling in a
+huddled heap on the floor. Armathwaite had the door open in a second,
+and found Percy Whittaker lying at the foot of the stairs, while
+Marguerite's voice came in a cry of alarm:
+
+"What is it? What has happened? Percy, is that you?"
+
+By that time Armathwaite had partly raised the fallen man, who did not
+seem to have an atom of breath left in his body. Mrs. Jackson, too, came
+from the kitchen with a lamp, and Marguerite appeared on the stairs.
+
+"What's the matter?" she cried again. "Did Percy fall? Is he hurt?"
+
+"I imagine he missed his footing on the stairs," said Armathwaite
+coolly. "At any rate, he struck the floor with such a thump that he is
+winded.... Now, old chap, pull yourself together! Can't you stand?
+Shall I carry you to a chair?"
+
+In a dazed way Whittaker endeavored to stand upright. At once he uttered
+a croak of agony, and would have collapsed once more if Armathwaite were
+not supporting him.
+
+"By Jove!" exclaimed the other, "I'm afraid he is more damaged than I
+thought. Show a light here, Mrs. Jackson. Now, go ahead, and open the
+door of Mr. Whittaker's room if it is closed. I'll take him there, and
+find out the extent of the mischief."
+
+Even in the confusion of the moment Armathwaite noticed that Percy was
+gazing at the wall near the clock with the distended eyes of fear. Mrs.
+Jackson saw it, too, and with the outspokenness of her class, did not
+hesitate to put her thought into words.
+
+"Eh, my, but t' poor young man'll hae seen t' ghost," she cried.
+
+"I--I saw some spook," muttered Whittaker weakly. "Where is it? What was
+it? I'm sure I saw something."
+
+"Go upstairs," Armathwaite commanded Mrs. Jackson angrily. "Or, better
+still, hand the lamp to Miss Meg, and stop talking nonsense."
+
+Quickly he had Whittaker stretched on a bed, and soon ascertained that
+the trouble, whatever it might be, lay in the right ankle. The sufferer
+had taken off the patent-leather boots, and was wearing felt slippers,
+so examination of his injury was no difficult matter. Armathwaite,
+evidently no novice in such emergencies, shook his head when Whittaker
+flinched or cried aloud in pain if a tendon was touched or an effort
+made to twist the foot slightly.
+
+"Put that lamp down," he said to Mrs. Jackson, "and bring me a basin of
+cold water. You, Meg," he went on, "might tear a sheet, or any piece of
+strong linen, into strips about three inches wide. Be as quick as you
+can, please! Every minute saved now may mean a week afterwards."
+
+"What's gone wrong?" whispered Whittaker, when the women had flown. "Is
+it a smash?"
+
+"No, thank goodness! You'd not get over a broken ankle in a hurry. But
+you've collected a very nasty sprain, and possibly lacerated some
+ligaments as well. Fortunately, I know what to do before the joint has
+time to swell. How in the world did you contrive to pitch downstairs?
+The steps are broad, and the grade less than the average."
+
+"I--I didn't fall. That is, I mean I didn't trip or stumble over
+anything. I saw that thing--the ghost--and simply crumpled up. I think I
+must have nearly fainted."
+
+"But, my dear fellow, what you took for a ghost was merely the
+reflection of a painted figure in a stained-glass window."
+
+"It was more than that. I'm not quite a fool. I never saw anything so
+ghastly in my life. Didn't you say that the man was found hanging in the
+hall near the clock? Well, I saw him, I tell you. I had turned the
+corner of the stairs when suddenly the beastly thing loomed up right in
+front of my eyes. Then it groaned most horribly. I couldn't be mistaken.
+I was thinking of nothing of the sort. In fact, I was wondering whether
+Meg would take a sensible view of things, and agree that I did right in
+getting Edie to send for her mater. Then that cursed vision appeared. If
+I didn't see it I'm going dotty. Why, I felt my hair rising, and I
+dropped as though I'd been shot."
+
+"Of course, I can't convince you now," said Armathwaite, "but when you
+are able to get about again I'll show you just what happened."
+
+"Get about again? You don't mean to say I'm crocked for any length of
+time?"
+
+"For a day or two, at least," came the diplomatic assurance. "As soon as
+I've tied a rough bandage we'll send for a doctor, and he will be able
+to give you a definite opinion."
+
+Whittaker groaned, and his eyelids closed wearily over the gray-green
+eyes.
+
+"Oh, d----n this house!" he muttered. "It's bewitched! Why the devil did
+I ever come here?"
+
+Armathwaite bound the injured limb tightly, and enjoined on Whittaker
+the necessity of remaining prone till a doctor arrived. There was little
+call for any such insistence. The unfortunate Percy was suffering enough
+pain already without adding to it by movement. He was persuaded to drink
+some milk, but the mere raising of his head to put a glass to his lips
+caused exquisite torture. Then Armathwaite left him, meaning to appeal
+to Farmer Burt for further assistance. Dinner was not to be thought of
+until a messenger was sent to Dr. Scaife, at Bellerby, and Meg and Mrs.
+Jackson remained with Whittaker in the meantime.
+
+While descending the stairs, Armathwaite gave special heed to the shadow
+cast by the window. It was dimly visible, but it seemed almost
+unbelievable that any person of ordinary intelligence could mistake it
+for a ghostly manifestation. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he
+summoned Betty Jackson.
+
+"Would you mind walking to the front door and standing close to it, so
+as to block the light which enters through the upper portion?" he said
+when she came.
+
+Wondering what he was driving at, she obeyed. Then the true cause of
+Whittaker's fright was revealed. The natural light through the plain
+glass of the door nearly overcame the weaker rays which filtered through
+the colored panes, but, as soon as the doorway was blocked, the figure
+of the Black Prince leaped into a prominence that was almost astounding,
+even to one who looked for some such development. The artist who had
+fashioned the window had followed the canons of medieval art. The
+armored knight, whose face gleamed palely through a raised visor, was
+poised as though standing on tip-toe, and a rib of the window rose
+straightly above his head. Thus, the reflection on the wall bore a most
+striking resemblance to a man hanging from the hook in the china shelf,
+while the sinister shadow deepened markedly when light was excluded from
+the only other source. The discovery of this simple fact not only
+explained the apparition which had sent Percy Whittaker headlong down
+the stairs, but also showed why gaping rustics could terrify themselves
+at will. The closer they peered the more visible became the "ghost."
+Even Betty understood what was happening, though she had not heard the
+orchestral effect of the complaining window-sash.
+
+"Mercy on us!" she whispered in a scared way. "Who'd ever ha' thought of
+the like of that? You must have bin comin' in, sir, the very minnit the
+poor young gentleman put foot on the second flight o' steps, an' that
+thing just lepped at him."
+
+"Between us, at any rate, we have laid the ghost, Betty," said
+Armathwaite. "If Mr. Whittaker complains of increased pain while I am
+out, tell your mother or Miss Meg to pour cold water over the bandage.
+That will give him relief. Perhaps, later, warm fomentations may be
+required, but he is all right now till the doctor sees him."
+
+As he walked a second time to Burt's farm-house, his mind dwelt on the
+singular coincidence that produced the shadow on the wall about the very
+anniversary of the suicide--or murder--which had vexed the peace of
+Elmdale two years ago. To one who was wont to relieve the long nights of
+duty in an Indian frontier station by a good deal of varied scientific
+reading, the mystery of the vision in the Grange was dissipated as soon
+as it was understood. Its occurrence was possible only during a few
+evenings before and after the summer solstice, when the sun had traveled
+farthest north in the northern hemisphere. Its duration was limited to
+ten minutes at the utmost, because the sun sinks rapidly when nearing
+the horizon, and the specter's visits were further curtailed by clouds,
+since strong sunlight and a clear sky were indispensable conditions to
+its appearance.
+
+But, without posing as an authority on stained glass, Armathwaite was
+convinced that the window which had produced this disturbing phenomenon
+was not modern. The elder Walker had spoken of the Grange as a
+"seventeenth-century dwelling," and there was every likelihood that the
+painted effigy of the hero of Crecy had been installed by the original
+builder, who might have cherished the belief that he was a descendant of
+the gallant Edward and the Fair Maid of Kent.
+
+If that was so, the "ghost" has existed, not two Junes, but nearer three
+hundred, and must have been observed and commented upon countless times.
+It was odd that Marguerite Ogilvey had not mentioned the fact
+specifically. It was still more odd that a man should have been found
+hanged in that exact spot. Somehow, Armathwaite thrilled with a sense of
+discovery when that phase of the problem dawned on him. He was still
+turning it over in his thoughts when he reached Burt's farm.
+
+Here he was again fortunate. Some chance had kept the farmer at home,
+and, although the latter had neither man nor horse to spare for a second
+journey to Bellerby, he dispatched a messenger to a laborer in the
+village who owned a bicycle, and was always ready to ride the six miles
+for half a crown.
+
+Armathwaite, of course, had told Burt of the accident, and the farmer
+shook his head sapiently when he heard its cause.
+
+"Ay!" he said. "If I owned yon place I'd rive that window out by t'
+roots. It's done a fair share of mischief in its time--it has, an' all!"
+
+"Do you mean that it has been responsible for other mishaps?" was the
+natural query.
+
+"Yes, sir; three in my time, an' I'm the right side o' sixty yet."
+
+"What were they?"
+
+"I don't remember t' first, because I was nobbut a little 'un, but I've
+heerd my faither tell on 't. Some folk o' t' neam o' Faulkner lived
+there then, an' one o' their gells, who'd married a man called Ogilvey,
+I think, kem yam (came home) to have her first bairn where her mother
+could look after her. This Mrs. Ogilvey must h' known t' hoos an' its
+ways well enough, but yon spook gev her a bad start one evenin', for all
+that, an' her bairn was born afore time, and she nearly lost her life."
+
+"Are you sure the name was Ogilvey?" broke in Armathwaite.
+
+"Oh, ay! I mind it well, because I've got a dictionary in t' hoose by a
+man o't same neam."
+
+"What became of this Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"By gum, she cleared off as soon as she and t' youngster could get into
+a carriage, an' never showed her nose i' Elmdale again. Owd Faulkner
+took te drink in his last years, an' had a notion that he and the Black
+Prince could finish a bottle of wine together. One night he was suppin'
+his share as usual on t' stairs, an' he fell backwards over, an' bruk
+his neck. Then there was poor Mr. Garth's case, which ye'll hae heerd
+aboot, mebbe?"
+
+"Yes, I've heard of it," said Armathwaite. "How did Mr. Garth come into
+the property?"
+
+"I don't rightly ken, but folk said it was through yan (one) o'
+Faulkner's married daughters. Gosh! He might ha' bin yon bairn. But, no!
+his neam 'ud be Ogilvey then."
+
+"Were you ever told why the window should be erected in memory of the
+Black Prince?"
+
+"Ay; the story is that the man who dug the first sod out o' the
+foundations broke ground on the fifteenth o' June, an' some larned owd
+codger said the fifteenth was t' Black Prince's birthday."
+
+"It seems to be rather a slight excuse for such an elaborate window."
+
+Burt looked around cautiously, lest he should be overheard.
+
+"There was queer folk livin' when that hoos was built," he muttered.
+"Happen there's more 'n one sort o' Black Prince. I'm thinking meself
+that mebbe some rascal of a pirate had Owd Nick in his mind when he
+planned yon article."
+
+Armathwaite laughed. He was aware that a belief in witchcraft still
+lingered in these remote Yorkshire dales, but he was not prepared to
+find traces of devil-worship so far afield.
+
+"It's a very interesting matter," he said, "and, when I've got the
+invalid off my hands, I'll inquire further into the historical side of
+it. You see, the style of coloring and craftsmanship should enable an
+expert to date the window within very few years of its actual period.
+Ah, here's your man! I hope he found the bicyclist at home?"
+
+Assurance on that head was soon forthcoming. Armathwaite returned to the
+Grange, and, while going to Whittaker's room, he glanced curiously at
+the wall near the clock. Though a sufficiency of light still came
+through the window, and the mellow colors in a vignette border were
+surprisingly bright, there was not the slightest semblance of an
+apparition in the hall.
+
+But, such was the force of suggestion, after Burt's hint at bygone
+practice of the black arts within those ancient walls, he found now that
+the face framed in the open visor was cadaverous in the extreme, and had
+a sinister and repellent aspect.
+
+Cynic though he was in some respects, as he mounted the creaking stairs,
+he wondered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+ARMATHWAITE STATES A CASE
+
+
+After endeavoring, with no marked success, to console a fretful
+invalid with promises of alleviation of his sufferings by a
+skilled hand--promises made with the best of intent, though
+doomed to disappointment, because the immediate use of a tight
+bandage was precisely the treatment which any doctor would have
+recommended--Armathwaite joined Marguerite in a belated meal.
+
+The spirit of an infuriated cook must have raged in Mrs. Jackson's
+breast when she bade Betty "tell 'em to mak' the best of it, because
+everything is spiled." Nevertheless, they dined well, since Yorkshire
+love of good fare would not permit a real _debacle_ among the eatables.
+
+Marguerite was utterly downcast when Armathwaite informed her that Percy
+Whittaker would be lucky if he could trust his weight on the injured
+ankle within the next month.
+
+"What a load of misfortune I carried with me yesterday over the moor!"
+she cried bitterly. "Yet, how could I foresee that an interfering woman
+like Edith Suarez would send Percy hotfoot in pursuit?"
+
+"I have formed a hazy idea of Mrs. Suarez from various remarks dropped
+by her brother and you," said Armathwaite. "If it is correct in the
+least particular, I am surprised that she ever let you leave Chester on
+such an errand."
+
+"She didn't. I came away without her knowledge!"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"You needn't say 'Ah!' in that disapproving way. Why shouldn't I visit
+Elmdale and this house if I wanted to?"
+
+"You have quite failed to understand my exclamation. It was an
+involuntary tribute to my own powers."
+
+"If you mean that Edith is a cat, I agree with you. When she hears that
+Percy has fallen downstairs and lamed himself, she won't believe a word
+of it. Before we know where we are she will be here herself."
+
+"We have five bedrooms. The house will then be full," he said placidly.
+
+"Five? Oh! you include my mother in your reckoning. Bob, don't you think
+I ought to telegraph early in the morning and tell her not to come?"
+
+"No. If you adopt the scheme I have evolved for the routing of all
+Walkers and the like, the arrival of your mother will be the one thing
+requisite to insure its complete triumph."
+
+Then he laid bare his project. Stephen Garth was dead and buried. Let
+him remain so. Mrs. Ogilvey herself would be the first to approve of any
+fair means which would save her husband from the probing and prying of
+the police. There was always the probability that he was innocent of any
+crime. Even if, from the common-sense point of view, they must assume
+that he knew of the ghastly secret which the house could reveal sooner
+or later, it did not necessarily follow that such cognizance was a
+guilty one. Thus did Armathwaite juggle with words, until his hearer was
+convinced that he could secure her a respite from the tribulations of
+the morrow, at least, though the graver problem would remain to vex the
+future.
+
+They were yet talking earnestly when the iron hasp of the gate clicked
+in its socket.
+
+"Dr. Scaife!" cried Marguerite, rising hurriedly. Then she bethought
+herself. "I suppose it doesn't really matter now who sees me," she
+added, "and I should so much like to meet him. He is one of our oldest
+friends in Yorkshire."
+
+"Meet him, by all means; but don't forget your new role. In fact, it
+would be well if you rehearsed it at once. The doctor will be a valuable
+factor in the undoing of Walker."
+
+The bell rang. Armathwaite himself went to the door. A slightly-built,
+elderly man, wearing a bowler hat and an overcoat, was standing there.
+In the lane beyond the gate gleamed the lamps of a dog-cart, and a groom
+was holding the horse's head.
+
+"I'm Doctor Scaife," announced the newcomer. "I'm told you have had an
+accident of some sort here!"
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite. "Come in, doctor! You've probably heard my
+name--Armathwaite. I've just rented this place for the summer, and a
+young friend of mine, who arrived unexpectedly to-day, had the ill-luck
+to slip on the stairs and sprain his ankle. I've done what I could by
+way of first-aid. I hope you received my message correctly?"
+
+"About the india-rubber bandage, do you mean? Yes, I've brought one.
+Lucky your man caught me. I was just starting for another village; but I
+can make the call on my way home. Where is the patient?"
+
+At that minute the doctor set eyes on Marguerite, who had come to the
+door of the dining-room. Her face was in shadow, because the lamp on the
+table was directly behind her.
+
+"Well, Uncle Ferdie, you dear old thing--don't you know me?" she cried.
+
+Dr. Scaife was not a man of demonstrative habit; but, for once in his
+life, he literally gasped with surprise.
+
+"Meg!" he stammered. "My own little Meg!"
+
+He grasped her hands in both of his. A dozen questions were hovering on
+his lips, yet all he could find to say was:
+
+"Is Mrs. Garth here, too?"
+
+"No; mother comes to-morrow, or next day at latest."
+
+"You intend remaining, I hope?"
+
+"Well, our movements are rather erratic, but we shall have several
+opportunities of meeting you before we go."
+
+Betty appeared, carrying a lamp, which she set on a bracket at the
+corner of the stairs. Scaife, still holding Meg's hand, drew her to the
+light.
+
+"Come here!" he said. "Let me have a good look at you. Prettier than
+ever, 'pon me soul! And how is your dear mother? Where have you buried
+yourself all this time? How long is it? Two years! Never a line to a
+forlorn uncle, even at Christmas! I shan't forgive you to-morrow, but
+I'm so pleased to see you to-night that at present I'll forget your
+neglect."
+
+"Uncle Ferdie, it was not my fault. Mother couldn't bear me to mention
+Elmdale or any of its associations."
+
+"Ah, of course! of course! But time is the great healer. I'll pray for
+continued fine weather, so that her beloved moor may smile on her
+arrival. Well, well! I feel as though I had seen--er--seen a fairy. Mind
+you don't vanish before I come downstairs. I'm ready now, Mr.
+Armathwaite."
+
+The worthy doctor had nearly blundered, but he had executed what
+Americans call a "side-step" neatly enough. Armathwaite smiled at the
+girl. She had passed this initial test with honors. A couple more such
+experiences, and James Walker would be flouted as a mischievous fool if
+he talked of Stephen Garth being alive.
+
+As he piloted the doctor upstairs, Armathwaite glanced at the window of
+ill-omen. The light of the lamp had conquered the external gloaming. The
+leaded divisions of colored glass were apparently of one uniform tint.
+Even the somber figure in black armor had lost its predominance.
+
+Whittaker, who was lying on his back, tried to turn when the two men
+entered his bedroom. He groaned, and said querulously:
+
+"Couldn't you have got here sooner, doctor? I'm suffering the worst sort
+of agony. This confounded ankle of mine must have been tied up all
+wrong."
+
+"We'll soon put that right," said Scaife, with professional
+cheerfulness. "Will you hold the lamp, Mr. Armathwaite, while I have a
+look? What time did the accident happen?"
+
+"Exactly at half-past seven," said Armathwaite.
+
+The doctor consulted his watch.
+
+"Oh, come now, you're really very fortunate, Mr.----"
+
+"Whittaker," put in Armathwaite.
+
+"Ah, yes! Did you mention the name? The mere sight of Meg Garth drove
+everything else from my mind. But it's only a quarter to nine, Mr.
+Whittaker, and a messenger had to reach me at Bellerby, three miles
+away. Hello, who tied this bandage? You, Mr. Armathwaite? Have you had
+hospital training?"
+
+"No; nothing beyond the rough and ready ways of a camp. A friend in the
+Indian Medical certainly taught me how to adjust a strip of lint."
+
+"You shouldn't grumble, young man; you've been looked after in
+first-class style," said the doctor, smiling at Percy. "It may relieve
+your mind if I tell you that I couldn't have done any better myself. Or,
+perhaps, if the pain is very bad, you'll think that the poorest sort of
+consolation. Fortunately, Mr. Armathwaite warned me as to what had
+happened, so I've brought a lotion which will give you some relief. Now,
+tell me when I touch a sore place. I shan't hurt you more than is needed
+to find out exactly where the trouble lies."
+
+In a few minutes Scaife had reached the same conclusion as Armathwaite.
+Indeed, he gave the latter a look which was easily understandable. If it
+were not for the moral effect of his presence on the sufferer, he need
+not have been summoned from Bellerby that night. He applied the soothing
+lotion, however, and substituted a thin, india-rubber strip for the
+linen bandage. Then he and Armathwaite assisted Whittaker to undress,
+and placed him in bed as comfortably as possible.
+
+"Now, I want to assure you that the prompt attention you received
+prevented a very awkward swelling," said the doctor, before taking his
+departure. "You've sprained that ankle rather badly. If it had been
+allowed to swell it would have given you a very nasty time. As it is, if
+you're careful, you'll be able to hobble about in a fortnight."
+
+"A fortnight!" Whittaker almost shrieked. "I can't lie here a
+fortnight!"
+
+"Whether you remain here or not, you'll be lucky if you can put that
+foot on the ground within that time. You may be moved, if you're
+carried, though I don't advise it."
+
+"But it's perfect rot to talk about being stewed up in this room all
+that time," protested the other, his eyes gleaming yellow, and his
+fingers plucking nervously at the bed-clothes. "This isn't my house. I'm
+a stranger here. Besides, there are things I must do. I have to be up
+and about to-morrow, without fail."
+
+Dr. Scaife nodded. He was far too wise a person to argue with an excited
+patient.
+
+"Well, wait till I examine you in the morning," he said. "Sometimes,
+injuries of the sprain order yield very rapidly to treatment. Take this,
+and you'll have a night's rest, at any rate."
+
+He shook some crystals out of a small bottle into a little water, and
+watched Whittaker drinking the decoction.
+
+"Lie quiet now," he went on soothingly. "You'll soon be asleep. If that
+bandage hurts when you wake, you must grin and bear it. I'll be here
+about ten o'clock."
+
+Downstairs, he told Armathwaite that he had given Whittaker a stiff dose
+of bromide.
+
+"Here's the bottle," he said. "If he's awake in half an hour's time, let
+him have a similar lot. Don't be afraid. He can stand any amount of
+it."
+
+Armathwaite smiled, and Scaife smiled back at him. They understood,
+without further speech, that a youngster of pronounced neurotic
+temperament could withstand a quantity of the drug that would prove
+dangerous to the average man.
+
+"Who is he?" continued the doctor. "I haven't seen him here before. Is
+there any difficulty about his remaining in the Grange?"
+
+"He is a friend of Meg's," explained Armathwaite. "She was staying with
+his sister at Chester, and we all reached Elmdale within a few hours of
+one another."
+
+Thus was another pitfall safely skirted. By the time Dr. Scaife was in
+the dining-room and talking to Meg, he had arrived at conclusions which
+were perfectly reasonable and thoroughly erroneous.
+
+In response to Armathwaite, he promised to bring a nurse in the morning,
+as he was confident that the sprain would keep Whittaker bed-ridden at
+least a couple of weeks. Then he took his leave.
+
+"I'll go and sit with Percy a little while now," said Marguerite. "Poor
+fellow! What a shame he should have met with this mishap after his
+gallant walk to-day. Perhaps that is why he fell. His muscles may have
+relaxed owing to over-exertion. Will you ever forgive me, Bob, for all
+the worry I have caused you?"
+
+"No," he said. "I want you to remind me of it so often that we shall
+lose count of the number of times. But, before you go upstairs, let me
+warn you that Dr. Scaife gave our young friend about twenty grains of
+bromide in one gulp. He may be dozing. If he is, don't wake him."
+
+In a couple of minutes she was back in the library, where Armathwaite
+was seated with a book and a pipe.
+
+"He's asleep," she whispered.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it. Now, come and sit down. Are you too tired to
+answer questions?"
+
+"Try me."
+
+"Concerning your change of name--can you explain more definitely how it
+came about?"
+
+"I told you. It was on account of a legacy."
+
+"But from whom? Who was the Ogilvey who left the money? A relative on
+your father's side, or your mother's?"
+
+"Dad's, I understood."
+
+"Did you ever hear of anyone named Faulkner?"
+
+"Yes. Some people of that name lived here years ago. We were distantly
+related. In fact, that is how the property came into dad's possession.
+But he never really went into details. One day he said he had made a
+will, leaving me everything, subject to a life interest for mother, and
+that when he was dead a lawyer would tell me all that I ought to know.
+Then I cried at the horrid thought that he would have to die at all, and
+he laughed at me, and that was the last I ever heard of it. Why do you
+ask?"
+
+"You remember that we promised not to hide anything from one another?"
+
+"Of course I remember."
+
+"Well, then, I think I have hit on a sort of a clew to the Ogilvey part
+of the mystery, at any rate. By the merest chance, while awaiting the
+return of Mr. Burt's man from the village, our talk turned on the
+history of this house. He spoke of the Faulkners, and mentioned the fact
+that the eldest son of a daughter of the family, a Mrs. Ogilvey, was
+born here. That would be some fifty odd years ago. How old is your
+father?"
+
+"Fifty-four."
+
+"The dates tally, at all events."
+
+Meg knitted her brows over this cryptic remark.
+
+"But," she said, "if you imply that my father may be the son of a Mrs.
+Ogilvey, that would mean that his name never was Garth."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Isn't such a guess rather improbable? I am twenty-two, and I was born
+in this very house, and I lived here twenty years except during school
+terms at Brighton and in Brussels, and we were known as Garths during
+all that long time."
+
+Armathwaite blew a big ring of smoke into the air, and darted a number
+of smaller rings through it. The pattern, beautifully distinct at first,
+was soon caught in a current from an open window, and eddied into
+shapelessness. He was thinking hard, and had acted unconsciously, so it
+was with a sense of surprise that he heard the girl laugh
+half-heartedly.
+
+"I've been forming mad and outrageous theories until my poor head
+aches," she said, answering the unspoken question in his eyes. "Some of
+them begin by being just as perfectly proportioned as your smoke-rings,
+but they fade away in the next breath."
+
+"My present theory is nebulous enough," he admitted, "but it is not
+altogether demolished yet. Can you endure a brief analysis of my
+thoughts? You won't be afraid, and lie awake for hours?"
+
+"No. I mean that I want to hear everything you wish to tell me."
+
+"The man who died here two years ago must have resembled your father in
+no common degree. Dr. Scaife is not the sort of person who makes a
+mistake in such a vital matter as the identification of a dead body,
+especially when the subject is an old and valued friend of his. By the
+way, you called him uncle, but that, I take it, was merely an
+affectionate mode of address dating from your childhood?"
+
+"Yes. It's a Yorkshire custom among intimates."
+
+"Have you ever heard of a real uncle--your father's brother--or of a
+first cousin who was very like him?"
+
+"No. I have asked my people about relatives but we seemed to have none.
+Even the Ogilvey of the legacy was never mentioned by either of them
+until mother read me a letter from dad received while we were in Paris."
+
+"Exactly. This testamentary Ogilvey appeared on the scene soon after
+Stephen Garth died and was buried. Your father was well aware of that
+occurrence, because he contrived it. He knew that the man who died was
+coming here, so he sent your mother and you to Paris to get you safely
+out of the way. Now, don't begin to tremble, and frighten yourself into
+the belief that I am proving your father's guilt of some dreadful crime.
+You yourself are convinced that he is incapable of any such act. May I
+not share your good opinion of him, yet try to reach some sort of firm
+ground in a quagmire where a false step may prove disastrous? Suppose,
+Mr. Garth, as he was called at that time, merely got rid of his wife and
+daughter until an unwelcome guest had been received and sent on his way
+again, and that fate, with the crassness it can display at times,
+contrived that the visitor died, or was killed, or committed suicide, at
+the most awkward moment it is possible to conceive, can you not imagine
+a hapless, middle-aged scholar availing himself of the most unlikely
+kind of expedient in order to escape a scandal? Your father is a
+student, a writer, almost a recluse, yet such a man, driven suddenly
+into panic-stricken use of his wits, oft-times devises ways and means of
+humbugging the authorities which an ordinarily clever criminal would
+neither think of nor dare. I am insisting on this phase of the matter so
+that you and I may concentrate our intelligence on the line of inquiry
+most likely to yield results. Let me tabulate my contentions in
+chronological sequence:
+
+     _A._--Mr. Garth received some news which led him to disturb the
+     peaceful conditions of life which had obtained during twenty years.
+     His first care was to send his wife and daughter to a place far
+     removed from Elmdale.
+
+     _B._--Mrs. Garth shared her husband's uneasiness, and agreed to
+     fall in with the plan he had devised.
+
+     _C._--In order to secure complete secrecy, the whole staff of
+     servants was dismissed, practically at a moment's notice, and
+     probably paid liberal compensation.
+
+     _D._--After a week of this gradual obliteration of himself in
+     Elmdale, Mr. Garth is missed, with the inevitable outcome that his
+     dead body is found hanging in the hall, and, lest there should be
+     any doubt as to his identity, a letter is left for the coroner, in
+     which he asserts a thing, which his friend, Dr. Scaife, knew to be
+     untrue, namely, that he was suffering from incurable disease. The
+     statement, conveyed otherwise than in a letter, would have been
+     received with skepticism; it was made with the definite object of
+     giving a reason for an apparent suicide, and leaving testimony, in
+     his own handwriting, that the disfigured body could be that of no
+     other person than Stephen Garth. If a general resemblance of the
+     dead to the living did not suffice--if the wearing of certain
+     clothes, and the finding of certain documents and trinkets, such
+     as a watch and chain, for instance--"
+
+Marguerite, who had been listening intently, could no longer restrain
+her excitement.
+
+"Yes," she cried, "that is so correct that it is quite wonderful. My
+father had a half-hunter gold watch and a chain of twisted leather which
+he wore as long as I can remember. Both had gone when he came to us in
+Paris; when I missed them, and asked what had become of them, he said
+they were lost, much to his annoyance, and he had been obliged to buy a
+new watch in London."
+
+"There is nothing wonderful in treating a watch and chain as the first
+objects which would lead to a man's identification," said Armathwaite.
+"Now, don't let your admiration for the excessive wisdom of the court
+tempt you to interrupt again, because the court has not fully made up
+its own mind and is marshaling its views aloud in order to hear how they
+sound. Where were we? Still in Section D, I think. Well, granted that an
+obtuse policeman or a perplexed doctor refused to admit that Stephen
+Garth was dead, the letter would clinch the matter. Indeed, from the
+report of the inquest, we see that it did achieve its purpose. The
+remaining heads of the argument may be set forth briefly:
+
+     _E._--Stephen Garth is buried at Bellerby, and Stephen Ogilvey
+     steps into new life in Paris, wearing a literary cloak already
+     prepared by many years of patient industry, though no one in
+     Elmdale knew that its well-known resident was a famous writer on
+     folk-lore.
+
+     _F._--After some months of foreign travel, it was deemed safe to
+     return to England, and Cornwall was chosen as a place of residence.
+     The connection between rural Cornwall and rural Yorkshire is almost
+     as remote as the influence of Mars on the earth. Both belong to the
+     same system, and there would be trouble if they became detached,
+     but, otherwise, they move in different orbits; they have plenty of
+     interests in common, but no active cohesion. In a word, Stephen
+     Ogilvey ran little risk in Cornwall of being recognized as Stephen
+     Garth.
+
+     _G._--Mrs. Ogilvey, a most estimable lady, and quite as unlikely as
+     her scholar-husband to be associated with a crime, was a party to
+     all these mysterious proceedings, and the combined object of
+     husband and wife was to keep their daughter in ignorance of the
+     facts for a time, at least, if not forever.
+
+"I don't think I need carry the demonstration any further to-night. You
+are not to retire to your room and sob yourself into a state of hysteria
+because your coming to Elmdale has threatened with destruction an
+edifice of deceit built with such care and skill. I am beginning to
+recognize now a fatalistic element in the events of the past twenty-four
+hours that suggests the steady march of a Greek tragedy to its
+predestined end. But the dramatic art has undergone many changes since
+the days of Euripides. Let's see if we cannot avail ourselves of modern
+methods, and keep the tragic _denouement_ in the place where it has been
+put already, namely, in Bellerby churchyard."
+
+The girl stood up, and gave him her hand.
+
+"I'm almost certain, Bob, that if you and dad had five minutes' talk,
+there would be an end of the mystery," she said.
+
+"And a commencement of a long friendship, I hope," he said.
+
+Their eyes met, and Meg's steady gaze faltered for the first time. She
+almost ran out of the room, and Armathwaite sat many minutes in utter
+stillness, looking through the window at the dark crest of the moor
+silhouetted against a star-lit sky. Then he refilled his pipe, and
+picked up the book he had taken haphazard from the well-stored shelves
+of that curiously constituted person, Stephen Ogilvey.
+
+It was a solid tome, entitled: "Scottish Criminal Trials," and lay side
+by side with "The Golden Bough," which Marguerite had spoken of, and a
+German work, "Geschichte des Teufels." Turning over the leaves, he found
+that someone had marked a passage with ink. The reference had been noted
+many years ago, because the marks were faded and brown, but the
+paragraph thus singled out had an extraordinary vivid bearing on the
+day's occurrences.
+
+It read:
+
+     "A statute of James I., still in force, enacts that all persons
+     invoking an evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with,
+     entertaining, employing, feeding or rewarding any evil spirit,
+     shall be guilty of felony and suffer death."
+
+Instantly there flitted before Armathwaite's vision a picture of the
+besotted Faulkner offering libations of wine to the black figure
+scowling from the stained-glass window. Perhaps the old toper had been
+lifting his head in a final bumper when he fell backward down the stairs
+and broke his neck.
+
+Armathwaite shut the book with a bang. When he went out, he found that
+Betty had forgotten to leave a candle in the hall, and he must either
+go upstairs in the dark or carry with him the lamp still burning on its
+bracket.
+
+He glared steadily at the dull outline of the effigy in armor.
+
+"I'm not superstitious," he muttered, "but if I could have my own way
+with you, my beauty, I'd smash you into little bits!"
+
+Then, to show his contempt for all ghouls and demons, he extinguished
+the lamp, and felt his way by holding the banisters. It was creepy work.
+Once, he was aware of a curious contraction of the skin at the nape of
+his neck. He turned in a fury, and eyed the window. Now that no light
+came from the hall, some of its color was restored, and certain blue and
+orange tints in the border were so perfect in tone that he was moved
+from resentment to admiration.
+
+"Not for the first time in the history of art, the frame is better than
+the picture," he thought. "Very well, you imp of darkness, some day, and
+soon, I hope, we'll dislodge you and keep your setting."
+
+He did not ask himself whom he included in that pronoun "we." There was
+no need. The mighty had fallen at last. He loved Marguerite Ogilvey, and
+would marry her if she would accept him though her parents had committed
+all the crimes in the calendar, and her ancestors were wizards and
+necromancers without exception.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE
+
+
+James Walker, the younger, took thought while his cob paced the eight
+miles between Elmdale and Nuttonby. In the result, he changed his plans
+if not his intent. Pulling up outside the office of Holloway & Dobb, he
+signaled a clerk who peered out at him through a dust-laden window. It
+is a singular fact that more dust gathers on the windows of offices
+occupied by respectable country solicitors than on the windows of all
+other professional men collectively.
+
+"Would you mind asking Mr. Dobb to come and see me for a minute on
+important business?" he said when the clerk came out.
+
+After befitting delay, Mr. Dobb appeared. He was portly and
+bespectacled, and not inclined to hurry. Moreover, he did not make a
+practice of holding consultations with clients in the street. It needed
+a man of county rank to prefer such a request, and Mr. Dobb,
+Commissioner for Oaths, and leading solicitor in Nuttonby, was very much
+astonished when he heard that "young Walker, the auctioneer," had
+invited him to step outside.
+
+"Well, what is it?" he inquired stiffly, standing in the doorway, and
+clearly resolved not to budge another inch.
+
+"Sorry to trouble you, sir," said Walker humbly, "but I can't leave this
+pony when so near his stable. He'd take off on his own account."
+
+Dobb, though slightly mollified by an eminently reasonable explanation,
+did not offer to cross the pavement, so Walker, after glancing up and
+down the street to make sure that no passer-by could overhear, continued
+in a low tone:
+
+"I've just come from the Grange, Elmdale, and saw Miss Meg Garth there.
+She passed a remark which seemed to imply that her father is still
+living, and got very angry when I told her that he was dead and buried
+two years ago."
+
+Mr. Dobb descended from the doorway quickly enough then. Resting a fat
+hand on the rail of the dash-board, he looked up into Walker's red face.
+The scrutiny was not friendly. He was sure that the junior member of the
+firm of Walker & Son had been drinking.
+
+"Do you know what you are talking about?" he said, sternly.
+
+Walker leaned down, until his ferret eyes peered closely into those of
+the angry solicitor.
+
+"That's why I'm here, sir," he said, with the utmost deference of
+manner. "Of course, I'm aware that you represent the family--at any
+rate, with regard to the Elmdale property--and when Miss Meg herself
+said that her father was alive, and flew into a rage when I ventured to
+correct her, what was I to think? I admit I was knocked all of a heap,
+and may have put things rather bluntly, but there cannot be the
+slightest doubt as to what she meant. More than that, her cousin, Mr.
+Robert Armathwaite, bore out her statement, and got so mad with me for
+stickin' to it that Mr. Garth had committed suicide, that we almost came
+to blows."
+
+Walker was quite sober--the solicitor had no doubt on that score now.
+Perhaps vague memories stirred in the shrewd, legal mind, and recalled
+certain curious discrepancies he had noted in events already passing
+into the limbo of forgetfulness. He, too, looked to right and left, lest
+some keen-eared citizen should have crept up unobserved.
+
+"Can't you take your trap to the stable and come back here?" he asked,
+thereby admitting that Walker's breach of decorum was condoned.
+
+"That's really what I had in mind, sir. I was afraid you might have left
+the office before I was at liberty, as I have a few matters to attend to
+when I reach our own place, and I didn't want to intrude by callin' at
+your house."
+
+Dobb was watching him critically, and was evidently becoming more
+puzzled each moment.
+
+"I need hardly tell you that you are bringing a very serious charge
+against someone," he said at last.
+
+"No, that I'm not!" cried Walker emphatically. "I'm just telling you the
+plain facts. It's not my business to bring charges. I thought, in
+reality, that I was doing someone a good turn by comin' straight to you;
+but, if you don't agree, Mr. Dobb----"
+
+"No, no, I didn't mean my remark in that sense," explained the solicitor
+hastily, not without a disagreeable feeling that this perky young
+auctioneer seemed to know exactly what he was about. "I only wanted you
+to understand that grave issues may be bound up with an extraordinary
+story of this nature. Look here! I'm busy now. Will you be free at six
+o'clock?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, come to my house, and we'll discuss matters fully. You say you
+saw and spoke to Miss Meg herself?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! No mistake. I've known her all my life."
+
+"Very well, then. Don't be later than six. I have some people coming to
+dinner at seven."
+
+Walker saluted with the switch he carried instead of a whip, clicked his
+tongue at the cob, and rattled away down the High Street. Dobb looked
+after him dubiously. He had been friendly with the Garths, and James
+Walker, junior, was almost the last person in Nuttonby he would have
+entrusted with any scandal or secret which affected them. However, in
+another hour, he would endeavor to gauge the true value of Walker's
+information. It might be a cock and bull yarn, in which case it would be
+a pleasure to sit on Walker heavily. Meanwhile, he would avail himself
+of the opportunity to go through certain papers in his possession, and
+come to the forthcoming interview primed with the facts.
+
+Every Thursday evening, at half-past five, the proprietor, editor, and
+manager of the _Nuttonby Gazette_--a journalistic trinity comprised in
+one fussy little man named Banks--looked in at Walker and Son's office
+for the "copy" of the week's advertisements, Mr. Banks being then on his
+way back to the printing-works after tea. Thus, he killed two birds with
+one stone, since the Walkers not only controlled a good deal of
+miscellaneous advertising, but, moving about the countryside as they did
+in the course of their business, often gave him news paragraphs not
+otherwise available.
+
+Young Walker, of course, was prepared for this visit. Indeed, it loomed
+large in the scheme he had embarked on. Hurrying home, he changed into
+a suit of clothes calculated to impress Gwendoline Dobb, the solicitor's
+only unmarried daughter, if he met her, and then strolled to the High
+Street sanctum of the firm. Not a word did he say to his father as to
+happenings at Elmdale. The old man was altogether too cautious, he
+thought, and would assuredly tell him to shut his mouth, which was the
+last thing he meant to do where Meg Garth and her "bounder of a cousin"
+were concerned.
+
+Thus, when Banks hurried in, and asked the usual question: "Anything
+fresh, gentlemen?" Walker, senior, was by no means prepared for the
+thunderbolt which his son was about to launch.
+
+The older man told the journalist that Lady Hutton was giving a special
+prize for honey at the next agricultural show; that hay had been a
+bumper crop in the district; and that mangel wurzel was distinctly
+falling out of favor, items of an interest to Nuttonby readers that far
+transcended the clash of empires in the Balkans. Banks was going, when
+the son said quietly:
+
+"By the way, you might like to mention that a Mr. Robert Armathwaite, a
+relative of the former occupants, has rented the Grange, Elmdale,
+probably for a period of twelve months."
+
+"A relative of the Garths, Jim--I didn't know that!" exclaimed his
+father.
+
+"It's right enough. Meg Garth herself told me."
+
+"Meg Garth! Is _she_ here?"
+
+"She's at the Grange. Tom Bland told me she was there, so, after calling
+about those cattle at Bellerby to-day, I drove on to Elmdale and saw
+her."
+
+"Well, of all the surprising things! Then, Mr. Armathwaite must have
+known about the house when he came in yesterday?"
+
+Yesterday! While the three men were gazing at each other in the Walkers'
+office, Armathwaite and Marguerite Ogilvey were escorting Percy
+Whittaker down the moor road, and even wily James Walker, junior, little
+guessed what a whirlwind had enwrapped the new tenant of the Grange
+since, as the older Walker had put it, "he came in yesterday."
+
+"No, I'm jiggered if he did!" cried the younger man viciously.
+"Armathwaite had never heard the name of the place before we mentioned
+it. I'll swear that in any court of law in the land."
+
+"And I'd bear you out," agreed his father. "Not that I can see any
+reason why it should come into court. He paid up promptly, and we have
+nothing to bother about until the next quarter is due."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that," was the well-calculated answer.
+
+"What are you driving at, Jim?"
+
+"This. He's no more Meg Garth's cousin than I am. There's some queer
+game bein' played, and I'm a Dutchman if there isn't a row about it. I
+tell you, Meg Garth is there, alone, and, when I met her, she calmly
+informed me that her father was alive. She nearly jumped down my throat
+because I said he wasn't, and that fellow, Armathwaite, took her part.
+The Jacksons, too, mother and daughter, are mixed up in it somehow. If
+Stephen Garth is living, who is the man that was found hanged in the
+Grange two years ago, and why is he buried in Bellerby churchyard in
+Stephen Garth's name?"
+
+"I say, Jim, you should be careful what you're saying."
+
+Walker, senior, was troubled. He, like Dobb, fancied that strong liquor
+was inducing this fantasy, yet his son seldom erred in that respect;
+to-day his manner and appearance gave no other signs of intemperance.
+
+"I'm tellin' you just what took place. Who should know Meg Garth if _I_
+didn't? She called Armathwaite 'Bob,' and he called her 'Meg,' and they
+were as thick as thieves; but they left me in no doubt as to old Garth
+bein' still on the map. In fact, we had a regular row about it."
+
+"By Jove!" cried Banks, moistening his thin lips with his tongue. "This
+promises to be a sensation with a vengeance. Have you told the police?"
+
+"No. It's not my business."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that. Why, man, Stephen Garth left a letter for the
+coroner. Dr. Scaife was inclined to question the cause of death, but Mr.
+Hill closed him up like an oyster. Don't you see what it means? If
+Stephen Garth is living now, some unknown man was murdered in the
+Grange. He could neither have killed himself nor died from natural
+causes, since no one in their senses would have tried to conceal his
+death by letting it appear that they themselves were dead."
+
+Mr. Banks expressed himself awkwardly, but his deduction was not at
+fault, and left his hearers under no doubt as to its significance. His
+eyes glistened. He could see the circulation of the _Nuttonby Gazette_
+rising by thousands during the next few weeks, and at a time, too, when
+people were generally too busy to read newspapers, or buy extra copies
+for dispatch to friends in other parts of the country. What a thrice
+happy chance that this thing should have come to light on a Thursday
+evening! There was nothing in it yet that he dared telegraph to the
+morning newspapers in York and Leeds, but, by skillful manipulation, he
+could make plenty of it for his own sheet.
+
+"But it simply can't be true!" bleated Walker, senior, in a voice that
+quavered with sheer distress.
+
+"What isn't true?" demanded his son. "You don't doubt what I'm tellin'
+you, do you? Ask Tom Bland if Meg Garth isn't in Elmdale. He saw her,
+and she nodded at him through a window, but, when he asked about her,
+that pup, Armathwaite, swore she wasn't there, and that Bland had seen
+some other young lady. He couldn't take that line with me, because he
+was out when I called, and Meg and I were at it, hammer and tongs, when
+he came in."
+
+"At what, hammer and tongs?" gasped his father distractedly.
+
+"Arguin' about old Garth, she sayin' he was alive and well, and makin'
+out I was lyin' when I said he was dead."
+
+"Excuse me, gentlemen, I must be off," said Banks, and the man who was
+still sore from the grip of Armathwaite's hands and the thrust of
+Armathwaite's boot knew that the first direct assault on the stronghold
+of Meg Garth's pride had begun.
+
+"Look here, young fellow," said Walker, senior, recovering his wits with
+an effort, "you've set in motion more mischief than you reckon on. I
+wish to goodness you hadn't blurted out everything before Banks. You
+know what he is. He'll make a mountain out of a molehill."
+
+"I've found no molehill at Elmdale--don't you believe it," came the
+angry retort. "Why, you ought to have seen my face when Meg sprang that
+tale on me about her father. I just laughed at it. 'Tell that to the
+marines,' I said. By jing, it's no make-believe, though. Between you and
+me, it's as clear as a whistle that Stephen Garth committed a murder,
+and humbugged the whole countryside into thinkin' he had killed himself.
+Just throw your mind back a bit, and you'll see how the pieces of the
+puzzle fit. Mother and daughter get out of the way; servants are
+discharged; the man is brought to the house over the moor from Leyburn,
+just as old Garth escaped and Meg returned, for I'll swear she never
+came through Nuttonby station. Dr. Scaife was the only man who half
+guessed at the truth, but fussy Hill squelched him, all because of the
+letter. Then, neither Holloway & Dobb, nor ourselves were given a free
+hand to deal with the house. Mrs. Garth didn't mean to part with
+it--twig? Of course, Garth daren't show his nose there, but, when he
+pegs out in reality, the other two can come back. It's all plain as a
+white gate when you see through it, and, when we get hold of
+Armathwaite's connection with it, we'll know every move in the game.
+He's in it, somehow, and up to the neck, too. You want to blame me for
+speakin' before Banks, but you've forgotten that Tom Bland told me this
+afternoon he had seen Miss Meg, and that lots of people knew I was there
+later. If she goes round tellin' folk her father isn't dead it would
+soon come out that she and I quarreled about it. Where would I be then?
+When you're not quite so rattled you'll admit that I was bound to speak,
+and that I've chosen just the right way to do it. If the police want me
+now as a witness they'll have to come to me, and that's a jolly sight
+better than that I should go to them. Do, for goodness' sake, give me
+credit for a little common sense!"
+
+And, having an eye on the clock, Walker, junior, bounced out, apparently
+in high dudgeon; but really well pleased with his own Machiavellian
+skill. Indeed, judged solely from a standard of evil-doing, he had been
+most successful. He knew well that Banks would go straight to the local
+superintendent of police, ostensibly for further information, but in
+reality to carry the great news, and set in motion the official mill
+which would grind out additional installments. But Walker's masterstroke
+lay with Dobb, who, in a sense, represented Mrs. Garth and her daughter.
+If Dobb could be brought to appreciate the gravity of the girl's
+statements anent her father--and his reception of Walker's story showed
+that he was prepared to treat it seriously--he would either write to
+Meg, asking her to visit Nuttonby, or go himself to Elmdale. In either
+event, she would be crushed into the dust. The elderly and trustworthy
+solicitor's testimony would carry weight. She could no longer deny that
+Stephen Garth was reputedly in his grave; she would be faced with the
+alternative that her father was an adroit criminal of the worst type,
+because public opinion invariably condemns a smug rogue far more heavily
+than the ne'er-do-well, who seems to be branded for the gallows from
+birth.
+
+Yet, by operation of the law that it is the unexpected that happens,
+James Walker, the second, was fated not to retire for a night's
+well-earned and much-needed repose with a mind wholly freed from
+anxiety.
+
+This came about in a peculiar way. By Mrs. Garth's request, soon after
+her departure from Elmdale, the solicitor invariably addressed her as
+Mrs. Ogilvey. At last, the notion got embedded in Mr. Dobb's mind that
+she had undoubtedly quarreled with her husband long before the latter
+committed suicide, and that the outcome of Garth's death was her speedy
+remarriage! From his recollection of her, she was certainly not the sort
+of woman whom he would credit with such a callous proceeding, but no
+man can spend a lifetime in a lawyer's office without gaining an insight
+into strange by-ways of human nature. The profession necessitates a
+close knowledge of the hidden lives and recondite actions of scores of
+one's fellow-creatures. Mr. Dobb knew a vicar who had committed bigamy,
+and a county magistrate who had been a petty thief for years before he
+was caught. That Mrs. Garth should marry again within a few weeks of her
+husband's burial might indeed be strange, but it sank into a commonplace
+category in comparison with other queer events he could name.
+
+Behold, then, young James arriving at The Beeches--a charming old house
+situated on the outskirts of Nuttonby; the "nut," as was becoming, was
+attired in a nut-brown suit, black shoes, a brown Homburg hat, socks and
+tie to match a shirt with heliotrope stripes, and yellow gloves.
+
+He had passed in at the gate in full view of a couple of girls of his
+acquaintance, and knew that they were glancing over a yew hedge when the
+front door opened and he was admitted. He was shown into a library,
+where Mr. Dobb awaited him. The lawyer motioned him to a chair.
+
+"Now, Mr. Walker," he said curtly, "would you mind telling me exactly
+what happened at Elmdale this afternoon?"
+
+James sat down. Unfortunately, the furniture provided a placid harmony
+in oak, so the seat of the chair was hard, even though it shone with the
+subdued polish of a hundred years of careful use and elbow grease
+applied by many generations of vigorous housemaids.
+
+"With your permission, sir, I--er--think I'd better begin--er--a little
+earlier."
+
+"What's the matter? Isn't that chair comfortable?"
+
+Mr. Dobb was clerk to the magistrates in the Nuttonby Petty Sessions;
+his pet abhorrence was a fidgety witness, and Walker was obviously ill
+at ease.
+
+"The fact is, sir, I'm a bit saddle-galled. If you don't mind----"
+
+"Certainly. Take that easy chair. What occurred 'a little earlier' which
+you think I ought to know?"
+
+Walker had been disagreeably reminded of Armathwaite, but he kept a
+venomous tongue well under control. He told the lawyer the circumstances
+under which Armathwaite, confessedly a complete stranger, had entered
+into the tenancy of the Grange, and described the journey to Elmdale,
+together with the curious behavior of the Jackson family. He was
+scrupulously accurate in his account of the cause and extent of his
+visit that day, even going so far as to admit that there was "a sort of
+a scuffle" between Armathwaite and himself.
+
+Mr. Dobb listened in silence. At the end, he fixed a singularly
+penetrating glance on the narrator.
+
+"In plain English, I suppose," he said, "this man, Armathwaite, bundled
+you out neck and crop?"
+
+"No, sir. Not exactly that. But I couldn't fight him in Miss Meg's
+presence."
+
+"Yet, from what you have told me, I gather that Mr. Armathwaite is a
+gentleman?"
+
+"He has all the airs of one," said Walker.
+
+"And he must have thought you had behaved discourteously to his cousin
+before he would use actual violence towards you!"
+
+"Nothing of the sort, sir. Miss Meg jumped down my throat for no reason
+whatever. Of course, Mr. Armathwaite hadn't heard the beginning of it,
+and may have imagined I was to blame, but I wasn't."
+
+"Perhaps there is an explanation that may be news to you. You are not
+aware, I take it, that Mrs. Garth is now Mrs. Ogilvey?"
+
+"By jing!" cried Walker, rather forgetting himself, "that's the name Tom
+Bland tried to tell me, but he couldn't rightly get his tongue round
+it."
+
+"Probably. But don't you see the bearing this important fact has on
+to-day's proceedings? I have reason to believe that Mrs. Garth and her
+daughter disagreed with Mr. Garth before his death. At any rate, she
+seems to have married again within a very short time, and Miss Meg may
+have fancied that you were trying purposely to insult and annoy her by
+referring to a bygone tragedy. The mere presence of this Mr.
+Armathwaite, who is wholly unknown here, lends color to that assumption.
+He may be a 'cousin' by the second marriage. It is even conceivable that
+Mrs. Ogilvey, as Mrs. Garth now is, did not wish her second husband's
+relatives to know of the way in which her first husband met his death.
+The fact that Mr. Armathwaite rented the Grange can be regarded as
+nothing more than an ordinary coincidence. Isn't it possible, Mr.
+Walker, that you blundered very seriously in thrusting yourself into
+Miss Meg's presence, and forcing an unpalatable revelation on her?"
+
+Walker's red face positively blanched. For one instant his nerve failed
+him.
+
+"I never thought of that," he muttered, in dire confusion.
+
+"It strikes me as a perfectly tenable theory," said Dobb, rising, and
+thereby showing that the interview was at an end. "You took me rather by
+surprise when you called me out of my office this afternoon, but I have
+given the matter some calm reflection in the interim, and have come to
+the conclusion that you found in Elmdale what is vulgarly known as a
+mare's nest."
+
+Walker stood up, too. He realized that he was being dismissed with
+ignominy, and resented it. Thumping an oak table with his clenched fist,
+he cried passionately:
+
+"Not me! You'll see in a day or two, Mr. Dobb, who's makin' the mistake.
+If I'm wrong I'll eat humble pie, but I'm not eatin' any now, thank you.
+I came to you, meanin' to do a good turn to all parties----"
+
+"Restrain yourself, please," broke in the solicitor, speaking with cold
+dignity. "What kind of 'good turn' is it that rakes up bygone troubles,
+and spreads scandalous gossip?"
+
+"You've missed my point entirely, Mr. Dobb," protested Walker. "I
+thought that you, being a friend of the Garths, could drop a quiet hint
+to Miss Meg not to talk about her dead-and-gone father as though he
+might arrive here by the next train--that's all."
+
+"But it is not all. If it were, your attitude would be understandable,
+even praiseworthy. What you are saying indirectly is that Mr. Stephen
+Garth is alive, and that some unknown person lies in Bellerby
+churchyard."
+
+Thus cornered, Walker floundered badly.
+
+"I'm not able to argue with you, sir, and that's the truth," he said.
+"Neither do I want to be drawn into a squabble of this sort. Of course,
+I know nothing of any second marriage; but, even if I did, Miss Meg
+isn't a little girl, who might have forgotten her real father. Look
+here! I stick to my notion, and that's the long and the short of it.
+There's a mystery at Elmdale, and it's bound to come out, no matter what
+difference of opinion there may be between you and me."
+
+A parlormaid entered with a telegram.
+
+"Excuse me one moment," said Mr. Dobb; "that is, unless you wish to go!"
+he added.
+
+Walker was constrained to put on a bold front before the servant.
+
+"I can wait another couple of minutes," he said off-handedly. The lawyer
+smiled; but, for his own purposes, he did not wish to quarrel outright
+with his visitor. He opened the buff envelope, and read, and not even
+the experience of a lifetime served to mask the incredulous dismay which
+leaped to his face.
+
+For the message ran:
+
+     "Have reason to believe that a gentleman passing under the name of
+     Robert Armathwaite is in or near Nuttonby. Kindly make guarded
+     inquiries and wire result.--SIGMATIC."
+
+Now, "Sigmatic" was the code address of a department of the India Office
+in which Mr. Dobb's eldest son held a responsible position. That
+phrase, "passing under the name of," suggested many possibilities to the
+legal mind. Moreover, the fact that a Government department was
+interested, and that the ordinary official channel for investigation was
+not employed, gave him furiously to think. In any event, he had been
+saved from the exceeding unwisdom of treating James Walker too
+cavalierly.
+
+"I'll just answer this, as the messenger is waiting," he said
+pleasantly. "If you're not in a hurry, Mr. Walker, sit down again. I'll
+send in a decanter of sherry and some cigarettes. Help yourself, will
+you?"
+
+He went out. James Walker grinned, and plunged his clenched fists into
+his trousers pockets.
+
+"That telegram knocked old Dobb into a cocked hat," he mused. "Wonder
+what was in it? Something to do with the Garths, I'll bet! Keep a steady
+hand on the reins, Jimmy, my boy, and you'll finish with the best of 'em
+yet!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE DAWN OF A BLACK FRIDAY
+
+
+There were three bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor of the
+Grange, all nearly of equal size, and remarkably spacious, since they
+corresponded in area with the rooms beneath. Percy Whittaker occupied
+the westerly front room, Marguerite had pre-empted the easterly one, and
+Armathwaite's room lay in the north-east angle. Thus, he was early
+aroused by the morning sun, and was up and about long before Mrs.
+Jackson or Betty put in an appearance. For lack of the bath which he had
+been prevented from ordering through Tom Bland, he splashed in an
+old-fashioned shallow zinc contrivance which reminded him of former days
+in Baluchistan. Crossing the landing afterwards, meaning to look in on
+Percy Whittaker, he glanced at the now oddly familiar black figure in
+the stained-glass window.
+
+At the moment his thoughts were not dwelling on the topic which had
+occupied them, well nigh to the exclusion of all else, since he had
+first set eyes on Elmdale, yet, by some occult influence, no sooner did
+he meet the cold, unseeing glare of the painted effigy than his brain
+began to calculate the significance of certain dates. The _Nuttonby
+Gazette_ dated Saturday, June 22nd, of two years ago, had stated that
+the inquest on Stephen Garth was held at the Fox and Hounds Inn,
+Elmdale, "to-day" (so the enterprising Banks had evidently brought out a
+special edition). Mrs. Jackson and Police Constable Leadbitter had
+deposed to the finding of the body on "Friday evening," which would be
+the 21st. Mrs. Jackson and Betty had last seen Garth alive on the
+Wednesday. Certain post-mortem indications showed that the death had
+taken place that night, the 19th. To-day, Friday, two years later, was
+the 19th! Armathwaite was not a nervous subject, but he was aware once
+more of a creepy sensation when he realized that this sunlit morning
+probably heralded in the fatal anniversary.
+
+Seen in a clear and penetrating light, and closely examined at an hour
+when each line stood out boldly, the face of the figure revealed certain
+peculiarities. Artists in stained glass seldom attempt to convey
+subtleties in flesh tints. At best, their craft is mainly decorative,
+and effects are obtained by judicious grouping of colors, each of a
+distinct tone value, rather than by the skilled merging of light into
+shadow, which is the painter's chief aim. But, in this instance, a
+deliberate attempt had been made to depict features of a truly
+malevolent cast. The oval formed by the open visor of the helmet gave
+scope for the use of an almost invisible casing of lead, which also
+provided the larger outline of the helmet itself, and of an enormous
+raven, with outstretched wings, perched on the crest.
+
+Yet, instead of the youthful and noble countenance which tradition would
+surely ascribe to a gallant prince, the face which peered from the
+casque was that of an evil-minded ascetic. Indeed, the longer
+Armathwaite looked, the more he was convinced that the artist had tried
+to suggest a mere skull covered with dead skin. The nose was pinched,
+and the nostrils were unpleasantly prominent. The lips were mere seams
+of dried parchment, and the cavernous eyes were really two empty
+sockets.
+
+This sinister and ghoul-like visage was totally at variance with the
+remainder of the work. The armor was correct from helm to sollerets,
+with hauberk and corselet, greaves and jambards, while the gauntleted
+hands were crossed, in true warrior fashion, on the hilt of a long,
+straight sword. The vignette border of tendrils and vine-leaves was
+charming in design and rich in well-blended color, and an observer of
+critical taste could not fail to compare the gross offense of the
+portrait with the quiet beauty of its setting. To some minds, there is
+an element in art which denies a true sense of harmony to a distorted
+imagination, and the notion was suddenly borne in on Armathwaite that
+the same hand had never limned that demoniac face and the remainder of
+the window. The one might have been the product of some debauchee
+steeped in the worst excesses of a libidinous society, while the other
+breathed the calm serenity of the Renaissance. Armathwaite had in full
+measure the hunter's instinct which incites mankind to seek out and
+destroy ferocious beasts. If he had a weapon in his hands at the moment
+he would have smashed that diabolical mask out of existence.
+
+The unaccountable spasm passed, and he entered Whittaker's room, to find
+that disconsolate youth lying on his back, wide awake, and staring
+blankly at the ceiling.
+
+"Hullo!" he said cheerily. "Had a good night's rest?"
+
+"Pretty fair," muttered the invalid, turning his eyes dully on the
+other. "That doctor chap doped me, I expect. Anyhow I slept till I heard
+you splashin' in the bath."
+
+"How's the ankle?"
+
+"Rotten. Look here, Mr. Armathwaite, you seem to understand this sort of
+thing. Bar jokes, how long must I remain here?"
+
+"In bed, do you mean?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A week, at least. After that, you may be able to hop about on one leg."
+
+"If _you_ were in my place, would you stop in bed a week?"
+
+"What else could I do? Even walking with a crutch is impossible because
+of the strain on the ligaments."
+
+Whittaker moved involuntarily, and was given a sharp reminder that his
+informant was not exaggerating his disability.
+
+"All right," he said sullenly. "What time is it?"
+
+"About six o'clock. Betty will bring you some tea and an egg before
+seven."
+
+"Miss Ogilvey isn't up yet?"
+
+"No."
+
+Half unconsciously, Armathwaite resented the studied formality of that
+"Miss Ogilvey." He fully appreciated its intent. He was a stranger and
+must be kept at arm's length. Moreover, the crippled Percy held him at a
+disadvantage. The younger man might be as insolent as he
+chose--Armathwaite was muzzled.
+
+"Can I do anything for you," he said.
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Well, if the pain is very bad, an extra bandage, soaked in cold water,
+will relieve the burning sensation."
+
+"No, thanks. I'll wait till the doctor comes."
+
+"He is bringing a nurse, by the way. You'll need proper attention for
+the next few days."
+
+"Right. Don't let me keep you. I think I can sleep another hour or so."
+
+Armathwaite was at no loss to understand why the cub wished to be rid of
+him. Whittaker was not only torturing himself with the knowledge that
+his host would be free to enjoy Marguerite Ogilvey's company without let
+or hindrance, but he also felt a grudge against the fates which had
+snatched him out of active participation in the day's events. Neither
+dreamed that the accident would precipitate the crisis each wished to
+avoid. In fact, in view of what did actually happen, it would be
+interesting to speculate on the probable outcome if, by chance,
+Armathwaite had been disabled instead of Whittaker. But history, whether
+dealing with men or nations, recks little of "what might have been." It
+is far too busily occupied in fashioning the present and concealing the
+past, for, let students dig and delve ever so industriously, they seldom
+obtain a true record of occurrences which have shaken the world, while,
+in the lives of the few people with whom this chronicle deals, there
+were then at work certain minor influences which no one of them ever
+discerned in their entirety. There was nothing surprising in this. A
+crystal-minded woman like Marguerite Ogilvey could never adjust her
+perceptive faculties to the plane of a decadent Percy, while Robert
+Armathwaite was too impatient of ignoble minds that he should ever seek
+to uncover the mole-burrowings of James Walker.
+
+Certain developments took place which affected each and all in relative
+degrees, and each acted according to his or her bent. Beyond that,
+analysis of cause and effect can hardly be other than sheer guesswork.
+
+Armathwaite rummaged in the larder for a crust, chewed it, and, having
+thus appeased the laws of hygiene, lighted the first joyous pipe of the
+morning.
+
+He was smoking contentedly in the garden when a bent, elderly man
+approached. Though twisted with rheumatism--the painful tribute which
+Mother Earth exacts from those of her sons who know how to obtain her
+chief treasures--this man quickened into a new life when he saw
+Armathwaite. He cast a sorrowing glance at the wilderness of weeds as he
+came up the garden path, but his weather-lined face broke into a
+pleasant smile as he halted in front of the new tenant.
+
+"Good mornin', sir," he said, touching his hat, though the action was
+devoid of any semblance of servility. "Things are in a nice mess, aren't
+they?" and he wheeled round to gaze at dandelions rampant in a bed
+sacred to begonias.
+
+"They are, indeed!" agreed Armathwaite, wondering what white-haired
+philosopher had come on the scene.
+
+"You'll be Mr. Armathwaite, I'm thinkin'?" went on the other.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"My name's Smith, sir. Mr. Leadbitter, the policeman, told me you had
+taken on the Grange. Mebbe you'll be wantin' a gardener."
+
+A light broke in on Armathwaite.
+
+"Oh! Begonia Smith!" he cried. "Come back to the old love--is that it?"
+
+"That's it, sir. She looks as if she wanted someone to look after her."
+
+"Very well. Take charge. It's too late in the year to grow flowers or
+vegetables, but you can tidy things up a bit."
+
+"A man who has his heart in the job, sir, can grow flowers at any time
+of the year. If I was to drop a line to the Nuttonby carrier to-night,
+I'd have a fair show of geraniums, calceolarias, lobelia, an' marguerite
+daisies in the front here by to-morrow evenin'."
+
+Armathwaite was not one to check enthusiasm. Moreover, the notion of
+brightening the surroundings appealed to him.
+
+"That would be sharp work," he said, eyeing the jungle.
+
+Smith, with the suspiciousness of an old man eager to show that he was
+as good as some of the young ones, misunderstood that critical survey.
+
+"Before Tom Bland brings the plants from the nursery I'll have a canny
+bit o' soil ready for 'em," he vowed.
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Armathwaite, quickly alive to the aged gardener's
+repudiation of any doubt cast on his powers. "But surely you can be
+better employed than in mere digging. Are there laborers to be hired in
+the village?"
+
+Smith swept the bare meadow-land with the appraising eyes of knowledge.
+
+"Plenty of 'em, sir. The hay is in, an' they'll be slack enough now for
+another month."
+
+"Very well. Send your order to Bland, including such implements as you
+may need. Hire three or four men, and get them busy. By the way, have
+you heard that Miss Meg is here?"
+
+"Miss Meg! Our Miss Meg?"
+
+Smith's astonishment was not feigned. He was slightly dazzled already by
+the way in which his new employer had received suggestions for the
+regeneration of the garden; now, he was thoroughly bewildered.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite, watching him narrowly. "She may join us any
+minute. Of course, if she expresses any preference for a particular
+method of laying out the flower-beds, you will adopt it without
+question."
+
+"Why, sir," said the old man simply, "if it's the same Miss Meg as I
+hev' in mind I'll not charge you a penny for what little I can do about
+the place. It'll be enough for me to see her bonnie face again an' hear
+her voice."
+
+"I'll tell her that," laughed Armathwaite. "But we don't trade on those
+terms. You were happy here, I suppose, before Mr. Garth died?"
+
+"No man could ha' worked for nicer people, sir. It bruk me all to pieces
+when t' maister tellt me to go. An' I never rightly understood it,
+until--until the sad thing happened you'll hev' heerd of. Mr. Garth was
+just as much cut up about me goin' as I was meself--that was the queer
+part of it.... Sir, tell me this, D'you mean to live here any length o'
+time?"
+
+"I hope so."
+
+"Well, it's a bold thing to say, afore I've known ye five minnits, so to
+speak, an' there may be nowt in it other than owd wives' blether, but,
+if you ain't such a great lover o' stained glass, I advise ye to hev'
+yon staircase window riven out by t' roots."
+
+"Now, why in the world do you say that?"
+
+"I can't put it into plain words, sir, an' that's a fact, but I'd be
+glad to see the house shut o' that grinnin' death's head. I well
+remember my own father tellin' me there was a curse in it, an' many's
+the time Mr. Garth laughed at me when I spoke on't. But t' owd man's
+prophecy kem yam (came home) to roost at last. It did, an' all."
+
+"What reason did your father give for his belief?"
+
+"It's a strange story, sir, but I know bits of it are true, so mebbe the
+rest isn't so far out. D'you see yon farm?" and Begonia Smith pointed to
+the Burt homestead.
+
+"Yes," said Armathwaite. "I met Mr. Burt yesterday."
+
+"It's built on the ruins o' Holand Castle, sir. It's barely ten years
+ago since Mr. Burt used the last o' t' stones for his new barn. These
+Holands were descended from a lady who married Edward, the Black Prince.
+She had three sons by her first husband, an' one of 'em kem to this part
+o' Yorksheer. As was the way in them days, he set a church alongside his
+castle, and was that proud of his step-father, who would ha' bin King of
+England had he lived, that he had that painted glass window med in his
+memory. In later times, when there was a cry about images, the owner of
+Holand Castle had the window taken out an' hidden. Then, to please
+somebody or another, he set fire to t' church. After that, things went
+badly with him, an' the castle was deserted, because it had the plague,
+though I'm thinking the only plague was bad drainage. Anyhow, nigh on
+two hundred year ago, a man named Faulkner settled i' this quiet
+spot--you can guess what it was like, sir, when there was no railways,
+an' the nearest main road ran through Leyburn on t' other side o' t'
+moor. This Faulkner had gathered his brass in no good way, robbin' ships
+an' killin' folk on the high seas, it was said. He used to import
+hogsheads o' wine all the way from Whitby, an' rare good wood was in
+'em, because I saw the last of 'em used as a rain barrel, an' I'm not
+seventy yet. The story goes that one night, in his cups, he was annoyed
+by the way the Black Prince looked at him, hard an' condemning like a
+judge. He got a pair o' big pistols, an' fired one at the Prince's face.
+He shot the eyes out, an' then aimed the second one at the mouth, but
+that burst, and blew his own right hand off, an' he bled to death afore
+they could plug the veins. His son, who was a chip o' t' owd block,
+hired a drunken artist to paint another face. This man knew nowt about
+stained glass, but he was a rare hand at drawin' terrible things, so he
+planned yon devil's phiz on oiled paper, an' stuck it between two thin
+plates o' glass, an' it was leaded in. If you was to climb on a ladder
+you'd find the difference at once between that part o' t' window an' all
+t' remainder. Many's the time I've seen it when nailin' up the wistaria,
+an', if I'd dared, would have put the hammer-head through it. But Mr.
+Garth refused to have it touched. He called it an antiquarian
+curiosity. All the same, he wouldn't have Miss Meg told about it,
+because it might have frightened her but he was always careful to see
+that the blind was not drawn across the front door on June evenings.
+Mebbe, you'll have heerd of a ghost, sir?"
+
+A window was raised, and both men looked up. Marguerite was leaning out,
+her face aglow with pleasure.
+
+"Why, if it isn't my own dear Smith!" she cried. "What lucky wind
+brought _you_ here? Mr. Armathwaite, is this _your_ doing? Smith, I'll
+be down in a jiffy. Mind you don't skedaddle before I come!"
+
+Thus it befell that when Betty Jackson brought an early breakfast to
+Percy Whittaker, and she was asked where Miss Meg was, she answered:
+
+"Out in the garden with Mr. Armathwaite. They're talkin' to Begonia
+Smith."
+
+"Ah, I heard the voices. And who, pray, is Begonia Smith?" demanded
+Percy.
+
+"The old gardener," said Betty. "He was here years an' years."
+
+"Does Mr. Armathwaite mean to have the grounds attended to?"
+
+"Looks like it, sir. He an' Miss Meg are measurin' bits, an' Smith's
+stickin' in pieces of wood. It'll be nice to have the place kept spick
+an' span again."
+
+It was, perhaps, unfortunate that Meg's glimpse of her friend from the
+bedroom window should have brought her downstairs pell-mell without even
+a tap on Whittaker's door to inquire as to his well-being. It was
+perhaps, equally unfortunate that, when she remembered her remissness,
+she should have hurried to his room while her cheeks were flushed with
+the strong moorland air and her eyes shining with excitement.
+
+"How are you, Percy dear?" she said, entering in response to his surly
+"Come in!" "I ought to have looked in on you sooner, but I could hardly
+believe my eyes when I saw Mr. Armathwaite in the garden with Smith, our
+own old gardener, whom I've known ever since I was a baby."
+
+"Why has Armathwaite brought Smith here?" said Whittaker, peering at her
+fixedly, yet veiling those gray-green eyes under lowered lids.
+
+"He didn't. Smith just came. But isn't it fortunate? He couldn't have
+found a better man, especially as Smith won't have any of the hard work
+on his hands. Mr. Armathwaite is giving him all the help he needs."
+
+"To put the place in order?"
+
+"Yes, of course. Smith promises marvels by to-morrow evening. But you
+haven't told me yet how your poor ankle feels."
+
+"Never mind my poor ankle, Meg. I understood that the house was only let
+for three months?"
+
+"Oh, much longer, I believe. Mr. Armathwaite----
+
+"Confound Mr. Armathwaite! The devil fly away with Mr. Armathwaite! I'm
+sick of his name: I spit on him!" He literally writhed in a paroxysm of
+anger.
+
+"Percy!"
+
+He had chosen an unhappy word when he spoke of spitting on his rival. He
+reminded her of a toad, and she hated toads.
+
+With a desperate effort he sat bolt upright in the bed.
+
+"It's high time you and I had a few straight words, Meg," he said, and
+his voice lost its drawl, and the blase manner was dropped. "You haven't
+forgotten, I suppose, that I've asked you to marry me?"
+
+"No. Perhaps, if you rack your memory, you'll remember my answer," she
+said indignantly, for she felt the innuendo, and was resolved to resent
+it with vigor.
+
+"No, oh, no! You said you didn't mean to marry anybody. That is a
+maidenly sentiment which is right and proper, and I agreed with it at
+the time. But the position has altered considerably during the past
+couple of days. As matters stand now, Meg, you may change your mind,
+and I beg to inform you that when you do marry, you'll marry me."
+
+"It is hardly fair to take advantage of your accident," she said, with a
+quiet scorn that only served to infuriate him the more.
+
+"What do you mean?" he said thickly.
+
+"You are not usually so dense. If you were not ill you would never dare
+speak to me in that fashion."
+
+"Never mind my illness. That will soon pass. And the density you
+complain of is not so one-sided as you imagine. I pointed out that the
+position had changed. Two days ago you were free to say 'Yes' or 'No' to
+my proposal. To-day you are not. You've got to marry me now, Meg. You'll
+be my wife by fair means or foul. Need I explain myself further?"
+
+"It--it would be as well."
+
+"All right. You've asked for it, and you'll get it. Unless I have your
+promise here and now that our marriage will take place as soon as I can
+stand on my feet again, I'll have your father arrested for murder."
+
+"Percy, you must be mad even to think of such a dreadful thing!"
+
+"No, not mad, but sane, very sane and wide-eyed. That fellow,
+Armathwaite, wants you, and he'll snap you up while I'm lying in this
+infernal house unless I strike now, and strike hard. I mean exactly what
+I say. I've thought it all out here, though I'm suffering pain enough
+to drive me crazy. But the mind can conquer the body, and my mind is not
+only clear, but fixed. Tell me you'll marry me, and I'll be patient as a
+saint. I'll take your word for it. I don't want you to sit by my side
+and hold my hand, as some sniveling fools would wish. You can plan your
+gardens with Armathwaite, and smile at him and talk with him as much as
+you please. But you've got to be my wife. Refuse, and the only way you
+can save your father from arrest is by getting Armathwaite to commit
+another murder."
+
+"You brute!" she almost whispered. Her lips were quivering pitifully,
+but the fount of tears was dried, and her eyes blazed with an intensity
+that conquered Whittaker for the moment.
+
+He lay back on the pillows again, with a smile that was twisted into a
+rictus of agony as a twinge wrung the injured limb.
+
+"Call me any hard names you like," he muttered, closing his eyes under
+the intolerable contempt and loathing of Marguerite's steadfast
+scrutiny. "I've said what I had to say, and I'll not depart from a
+syllable of it. You'd have married me one of these days if you hadn't
+met Armathwaite. He has turned your pretty little head with his
+knight-errant airs and cavalry officer appearance. So I've determined
+to pull you back by force--see? You'll get over it in time. You and I
+will be as good chums as ever when this gale has blown itself out. Don't
+think I shall hold you less dear because your father placed himself in
+danger of the law. He escaped neatly before, and can escape again. I'll
+even tell you how. No one here knows--"
+
+He opened his eyes again, to ascertain if some dawning interest in the
+project he was about to reveal--which was precisely that already set
+forth by Armathwaite--had driven the horror from her drawn features; but
+Marguerite had vanished. He listened for her footsteps, and could hear
+no sound. He shouted loudly, and tugged frenziedly at a bell. Betty came
+running, thinking he had fallen out of bed, and needed assistance.
+
+"Why, whatever is the matter?" she cried, with true Yorkshire
+abruptness, when she found him lying as she had left him a few minutes
+earlier.
+
+"Where is Miss Meg?" he raged. "Tell her she must come here--at once!
+Tell her that! Use those very words--come at once!"
+
+"My! What a to-do about nowt! I was sure the house was on fire!"
+
+"Confound you, will you go!" he shouted.
+
+"Yes, I'll go! For goodness' sake, keep quiet. You're doing yourself no
+good by gettin' that excited. Oh, you needn't bawl at me! I'll find
+her. It isn't such a big place that she can be lost for more'n a minnit
+or two."
+
+Grumbling audibly at the funny ways some folk had, to be sure, Betty
+went downstairs. She looked into the drawing-room, dining-room, and
+library, but Marguerite was in none of those places. Then she passed out
+into the garden; through the open window Whittaker could hear her asking
+Armathwaite if he knew where Miss Meg was. He caught the answer, too.
+
+"Yes. She left me to visit Mr. Whittaker."
+
+"She's not there, sir, and he has just sent me for her in an awful
+hurry," said Betty.
+
+"Is it anything I can do for him?"
+
+"No, sir. He wants Miss Meg."
+
+"Well, she can't be far away. She may be in her bedroom. Go and look
+there. If I see her, I'll hand on your message."
+
+Soon, when Betty had ransacked the house, she came to the conclusion
+that Marguerite had gone into the village. For some reason, on hearing
+this, Whittaker appeared to be calmer, and only growled an order that he
+was to be informed instantly of Miss Garth's return. Betty retreated to
+the kitchen. When the door was safely closed she said to her mother:
+
+"That Percy Whittaker is daft, an' it's easy to see what ails him. If I
+was Miss Meg I wouldn't have him if he was hung with diamonds."
+
+"You're nobbut a fond lass," commented Mrs. Jackson, cracking an egg on
+the side of a basin preparatory to emptying its contents into a
+frying-pan. "Always thinkin' of young men, like the rest of 'em. Poor
+Meg Garth has other things to bother her. If you hadn't lost a good
+father when you were too little to ken owt about it, you'd know what
+she's goin' through now."
+
+"But she says her father is livin'," said Betty.
+
+"Tell me summat fresh," retorted her mother. "Wouldn't it be better for
+her if he wasn't? You mark my words. There'll be a bonny row i' this
+house afore we're much older. Now, hurry up with t' toast. No matter
+what else happens, folk mun eat."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+DEUS EX MACHINA
+
+
+After a while, Betty came to Armathwaite again.
+
+"If you please, sir, breakfast is ready. Shall I bring it in, or will
+you wait for Miss Meg?" she said.
+
+That a second inquiry as to Marguerite's whereabouts should be necessary
+seemed to surprise him.
+
+"You were looking for Miss Garth a few minutes ago. Didn't you find
+her?" he inquired.
+
+"No, sir. She's not in the house."
+
+"But what can have become of her?"
+
+"I thought, sir, she might ha' gone into t' village."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"She knows everybody i' t' place. She said last night that now she was
+makin' a bit of a stay she'd be seein' some o' t' folk."
+
+"I think I should have noticed her if she had gone out by the gate," he
+said, weighing the point. "Smith!" he called, "has Miss Meg left the
+house recently--within the past ten minutes, I mean?"
+
+"Not that I know of, sir," said Smith; "but I'm that worritted by the
+state of some o' these here beds that ammost owt (almost anything) might
+ha' happened without me givin' it heed."
+
+"Bang that gong at the front door," said Armathwaite to Betty. "It
+should be heard in every house in Elmdale, and she will understand."
+
+The gong was duly banged, and its effect on Elmdale was immediately
+perceptible. Old Mrs. Bolland vowed afterwards that she would sit
+permanently at the back bedroom window, because, being rheumaticky, she
+couldn't get upstairs quickly enough, and there was summat to see
+nowadays at t' Grange.
+
+But the tocsin failed to reach the one ear for which it was intended.
+The village produced every live inhabitant except Marguerite Ogilvey.
+
+"Was Miss Meg friendly with the Burts?" inquired Armathwaite, when he
+and Betty realized it was useless to gaze expectantly either at the
+corner of the roadway visible from the porch, or at such small
+cross-sections of the village "street" as could be seen at irregular
+intervals between the houses.
+
+"Yes, sir. She'd often walk over there," said the girl, gazing at once
+in the direction of the Castle Farm, which was the name of the holding.
+
+"She would know that breakfast was on the way?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I axed her meself when I brought her a cup of tea. She
+said that nine o'clock would suit."
+
+Betty turned involuntarily to consult the grandfather's clock in the
+hall. The hands stood at ten minutes past nine; but, in the same moment,
+she remembered that the clock was not going. Armathwaite followed her
+glance, and looked at his watch.
+
+"Ten minutes past nine," he answered, with a laugh. "The old clock is
+right to a tick. Was it in use while the Sheffield lady remained in the
+house?"
+
+"No, sir. It stopped at that time when the old man died."
+
+Then she giggled. There is hardly a man or woman in Yorkshire who does
+not know that the words of a famous song were suggested by the behavior
+of a clock which is still exhibited in an inn on the south side of the
+Tees at Pierce Bridge, and the girl had unconsciously repeated the tag
+of verses and chorus.
+
+Armathwaite had yet to learn of this treasured possession of the county
+of broad acres, so he eyed Betty rather disapprovingly. Moved by an
+impulse which he regarded as nothing more than a desire to check such
+undue levity, he strode into the hall, found a key resting on a ledge
+of the clock's canopy, wound up the heavy weights, and started the
+pendulum.
+
+"Perhaps our ancient friend may be more accurate than you, Betty," he
+said. "You mean, I suppose, that it stopped at that time because it was
+not wound. How do _you_ know the hour, or even the day, anyone died
+here?"
+
+"Well, I don't, sir, an' that's a fact," she admitted. "But what about
+breakfast?"
+
+"Attend to Mr. Whittaker--I'll wait!"
+
+He went out again, and saw Smith hobbling down the bye-road.
+
+"Hi!" he cried, "if you're going into the village you might ask if
+anyone has seen Miss Meg!"
+
+Smith replied with a hand wave. He was thinking mainly of begonias,
+planning a magician's stroke, because his new master had told him to
+spare no expense. Within ten minutes he returned, but not alone. Four
+able-bodied rustics came with him, each carrying a spade or a garden
+fork. But he had not forgotten Armathwaite's request.
+
+"Miss Meg hasn't gone that way, sir," he said. "Plenty of folk saw her
+in t' garden, an' they couldn't ha' missed her had she been in t'
+street. But she'll be comin' i' now. No fear o' her bein' lost, stolen,
+or strayed i' Elmdale. These chaps are good for a day's diggin' at four
+shillin' an' two quarts o' beer each. Is that right, sir?"
+
+"Make it five shillings and no beer," said Armathwaite.
+
+The laborers grinned.
+
+"No beer is even to be bought during working hours," he added sharply.
+"You can work harder and longer on tea. You may have all the tea, milk,
+bread and cheese you want, but not a drop of beer, this day or any other
+day, while at work here. I know what I am talking about. I am no
+teetotal fanatic, but I've proved the truth of that statement during
+many a day of more trying labor than digging soft earth."
+
+The terms were agreed to without a murmur. The incident, slight as it
+was, had its bearing on the day's history. Smith was leading his cohort
+to the attack, when one of the men, apparently bethinking himself,
+approached Armathwaite and touched his cap.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but was ye axin' about Miss Meg?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I seed her goin' up t' moor road nigh on half an hour sen"
+(since).
+
+The Grange itself was the only house on the moor road for many a mile,
+and it was most unlikely that Marguerite would take a protracted stroll
+in that direction at such an hour. Somehow, Armathwaite was aware of a
+chill in the air which he had not felt earlier. It was his habit to
+disregard those strange glimpses of coming events, generally of
+misfortune, which men call premonitions. When confronted by accomplished
+facts, he acted as honor and experience dictated; for the rest, he said,
+with Milton--
+
+                                "I argue not
+    Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
+    Of heart and hope; but still bear up and steer
+    Right onward."
+
+But this all-sufficing rule of conduct had availed him little from the
+moment he crossed the threshold of the Grange. Right well had it served
+him in the strenuous years of vigilant governance now so remote; since
+his coming to Elmdale he seemed ever to be striving against shapeless
+phantoms. He had sought quiet and content in that peaceful-looking
+village; he had found only care and gnawing foreboding, brightened, it
+is true, by a day-dream, which itself left bitter communing when it
+waned. For he was his own severest censor. He regarded himself as one
+already in the sere and yellow leaf. Fortune had called him to the high
+places only to cast him forth discredited, if not humbled. That he, a
+man who believed he had done with the great world, should think of
+allying his shattered life with the sweet and winsome creature whose
+feminine charm was enhanced by a frank girlishness, was a tantalizing
+prospect which, like the mirage in a desert, merged with the arid wastes
+when subjected to close scrutiny. With Marguerite near, reason fled, and
+all things seemed possible; when the thrall of her presence was
+withdrawn, cold judgment warned him that gratitude for help rendered
+should not be mistaken for love.
+
+He felt now that another crisis had arisen, yet the past yielded no ray
+of guidance. He glared at the poor laborer who, all unconsciously, was
+fate's herald in this new adversity, for he was instantly aware, without
+other spoken word, that Marguerite Ogilvey had fled. The man's troubled
+face showed that he feared he had done wrong.
+
+"I'm main sorry, sir," said he, "if I've said owt te vex ye, but,
+hearin' the talk of Miss Meg, I thought----"
+
+Armathwaite's drawn features relaxed, and he placed a friendly hand on
+the villager's shoulder.
+
+"You've done right," he said. "I am very much obliged to you. I have a
+stupid habit of allowing my mind to wander. Just then I was thinking of
+something wholly unconnected with Miss Garth's disappearance, which will
+arouse Mrs. Jackson's wrath because of bacon and eggs frizzled to a
+cinder. I must go and condole with her."
+
+He was turning to re-enter the house, mainly to set at rest any
+suspicion that Marguerite's absence arose from other cause than sheer
+forgetfulness, when the clang of the gate stayed him. A youth had
+dismounted from a bicycle, and was hastening up the path with an air of
+brisk importance.
+
+"Telegrams for Garth and Whittaker," he said. "Any answer, sir?"
+
+Armathwaite took the two buff envelopes which the lad produced from a
+leather pouch.
+
+"Have you come from Bellerby?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, wait a few minutes. There may be some reply."
+
+He went into the dining-room. So sure was he that Marguerite had gone
+away that he had not the slightest hesitation about opening the telegram
+addressed to "Garth, The Grange, Elmdale." As he anticipated, it was
+from Mrs. Ogilvey. It had been dispatched at seven o'clock from
+Tavistock, and read:
+
+     "Arriving to-night if possible. Don't take any action until I am
+     with you.--MOTHER."
+
+The early hour at which it had been sent off--from a town, too, which
+he rightly estimated as a good many miles distant from Warleggan, showed
+that Mrs. Suarez had contrived to get a telegram through to Cornwall the
+previous night, so Percy Whittaker's mischievous interference had proved
+quite successful.
+
+Then, with lightning clarity came the belief that Percy Whittaker was
+responsible for Marguerite's flight. Armathwaite scouted the notion that
+she had such a thing in her mind when she came to him in the garden. Her
+nature was incapable of guile. Had she formed some fantastic scheme
+during the watches of the night she would never have put her troubles
+aside to share in his light-hearted planning of a new and glorified
+garden. In fact, he recalled her sudden dismay because of her seeming
+neglect of the invalid, and now he knew that he had not seen her since
+she went upstairs, whereas Whittaker himself had sent more than one
+urgent summons for her subsequently.
+
+Stifling his fury as best he might, Armathwaite hurried to Whittaker's
+room.
+
+"A telegram has just come for you," he said, and watched the younger
+man's face as he read. It was a long screed, and evidently bored its
+recipient.
+
+"Oh, it's only from my sister," came the languid explanation. "By the
+way, where's Miss Garth?"
+
+"Gone, I think."
+
+"Gone!" Whittaker rose on an elbow and glowered at Armathwaite. "What
+the devil do you mean by 'gone'? Where has she gone to?" he cried.
+
+"I want you to answer that question," and Armathwaite's voice was
+strangely harsh and threatening. "She came to you half an hour ago. Did
+you say anything likely to distress her? Tell me the truth, or I'll
+pound your face to a jelly."
+
+His aspect had suddenly become so menacing that Whittaker wilted; his
+head sank back to the pillow, and his eyelids twitched with fright.
+
+"That's no way to talk----" he began, but the other seized him by the
+shoulder with his left hand and clenched his right fist suggestively.
+
+"You think I ought not to threaten you with violence because you are
+lying there helpless," was the savage interruption; "but, if you have
+not forgotten the ways of Ind, you must know that a poisonous snake is
+never so venomous as when disabled. Speak, now, and speak truthfully,
+or, as sure as God is in heaven, I'll strike!"
+
+There was no withstanding the set purpose revealed by those blazing
+eyes, and Whittaker was so alarmed that he dared not attempt to lie.
+
+"I--I've asked Meg--half a dozen times--to marry me," he stuttered, "and
+this morning--I told her--she'd have to consent--now."
+
+"Why now?" and the fierce grip tightened, drawing the livid face nearer.
+
+"Because--she must."
+
+"Explain yourself, you dog!"
+
+"I--I was afraid of your influence, so I warned her--that if--she wanted
+to save her father.... Ah! Let go! Curse you, let go! You're breaking my
+bones!"
+
+That eldritch scream restored Armathwaite's senses. It startled the men
+in the garden. It brought Mrs. Jackson and Betty running from the
+kitchen. Happily, Armathwaite struck no blow. He flung off Whittaker's
+limp body as though he were, indeed, one of the vicious reptiles to
+which he had compared him.
+
+"You _sug_!" he breathed, using the bitterest term of contempt known to
+the East, for the Persian word means all that the Anglo-Saxon implies
+when he likens a fellow-creature to a dog, with the added force of an
+epithet which signifies "dog" in that despicable sense, and in none
+other.
+
+Striding down the stairs, his fire-laden glance met the ghastly smile of
+the painted figure. With an active bound, he was on the window ledge,
+and the clenched fist which had ached to scatter some of the hapless
+Percy's features fell heavily on the scowling face in the window. The
+glass, which proved exceedingly thin and brittle, shivered into
+countless fragments within and without, and the inner sheet of
+transparent paper was so dry and tense that it shriveled instantly when
+exposed to the air. Indeed, Armathwaite, despite his rage, was aware of
+a peculiar sensation. It seemed as though he had struck at something
+impalpable as air. His hand was not cut. It appeared to have touched
+nothing. He thrust straight and hard, and the only evidence of his
+destroying zeal was a quantity of powdered glass on the landing, some
+curled wisps of paper adhering to the leaden frame, and an oval of blue
+sky shining through the visor.
+
+As he leaped to the floor again, Mrs. Jackson reached the center of the
+hall. She screeched frantically, thinking that the Black Prince himself
+was springing from the window. But she was a stout-hearted old woman,
+and quickly recovered her wits when she saw what Armathwaite had done.
+
+"They've long wanted a man i' this house!" she cried, in a voice that
+cracked with excitement, "and it's glad I am te see they've gotten yan
+at last! Eh, sir, ye med me jump! Ye did an' all! But ye'll never rue
+t' day when ye punched a hole in t' feace o' that image of Owd Nick!"
+
+By this time Smith and his helpers, aware that something unusual was
+going on inside the house, were gathered at the front door, which had
+remained wide open since the early morning.
+
+"Listen, all of you!" said Armathwaite, addressing the two women and
+five men as though they were an army and he their emperor. "I am master
+here, and I expect you to obey my orders. I am going out now, and I may
+be away some hours, possibly all day. You, Smith, must put a padlock and
+chain on the gate and refuse to open it for anyone except Dr. Scaife and
+a nurse. You, Mrs. Jackson, must keep the doors locked while I am gone,
+and let no one enter, excepting, as I have told Smith, Dr. Scaife and
+the nurse who will accompany him. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you, Smith?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Betty, put some thin slices of bread and meat between two small plates,
+and tie them in a napkin. Fill a bottle with milk. Quick! I have no time
+to lose."
+
+He turned to the gaping boy who had brought the telegrams from
+Bellerby.
+
+"Did you ride here on your own bicycle?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is it a strong machine?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lend it to me for the day, and I'll give you a sovereign."
+
+"Right you are, sir!" came the hearty response. "Is there anything to go
+back to the post office?"
+
+"Nothing. Raise the saddle of your bicycle, and see that the tires are
+in good order. Here's your money."
+
+In an incredibly short time Armathwaite was pushing the bicycle up the
+steep road to the moor. He walked with long, swinging strides, and was
+soon lost to sight, because the trees behind the Grange hid the highway
+from any part of the house or grounds, and no one dared risk his wrath
+by going out into the road to watch him.
+
+He climbed swiftly yet steadily, and conquered the worst part of the
+hill in fifteen minutes. Then he mounted the bicycle, and got over the
+ground rapidly. Thus, within less than an hour after Marguerite Ogilvey
+had escaped from the Grange--in the first instance by taking refuge in
+her bedroom, and, while Betty was talking to Whittaker, by slipping
+downstairs and climbing through a window in the library--Armathwaite
+saw her--a lonely figure in that far-flung moorland, walking in the
+direction of Leyburn.
+
+Apparently, she had grabbed her hat and mackintosh coat when passing
+through the hall, and was carrying them, because the sun was glinting in
+her coils of brown hair. No stranger who met her would take her for
+other than a summer visitor. Certainly, no one would guess the storm of
+grief and terror that raged in her heart.
+
+The bicycle sped along with a silent speed that soon lessened the
+distance between the two. Armathwaite did not wish to startle her by a
+too sudden appearance, so he rang the bell when yet fifty yards in the
+rear.
+
+She turned instantly. When she saw who the pursuer was, she stopped.
+Neither spoke until Armathwaite had alighted, and the two had exchanged
+a long and questioning look.
+
+Then she said:
+
+"I'm going to my father. My place is with him. He must be hidden
+somewhere. I dare not wait until my mother came or wrote. I'm sorry,
+Bob. I could not even explain, though I should have telegraphed from
+York. Please don't ask me to say any more, or try to detain me."
+
+"Any explanation is unnecessary," he said, smiling gravely into the
+sweet face with its aspect of unutterable pain. "I squeezed the facts
+out of Percy Whittaker. I'm afraid I hurt him, but that is immaterial."
+
+"You made him tell you what he said to me?" and the brown eyes
+momentarily lost their wistfulness in a whirl of surprise and maidenly
+dismay.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Everything--even his threat?"
+
+"Everything."
+
+"Oh, Bob! What am I to do? I must go to dad!"
+
+"Undoubtedly; but I don't see why you should walk fourteen miles
+practically without food. I've brought some breakfast--of a sort. We'll
+go shares--half the sandwiches and half the milk. Then you'll ride on
+the step of the bike when the road permits, and trudge the remainder,
+and we'll be in Leyburn in half the time it would take you to walk. Here
+are the eatables, and this is just the place for a picnic."
+
+He spoke and behaved in such a matter-of-fact way that he almost
+persuaded the bewildered girl that her conduct, and his, and Percy
+Whittaker's was ruled and regulated by every-day conditions. Placing the
+bicycle by the roadside, he produced the package prepared by Betty, and
+was uncorking the milk when a strangled sob caught his ear.
+
+Marguerite had turned to hide her face, for a rush of emotion had proved
+too much for her self-control. Laying the bottle on a bank of turf, he
+caught the girl's shoulder, and turned her gently until her swimming
+eyes met his.
+
+"There's nothing to be gained by hailing trouble half way, Meg," he
+said. "I don't wish to hide my belief that you are faced with conditions
+of a most extraordinary nature, but I am convinced that they will shape
+themselves differently to any forecast we can arrive at now. I followed
+you for two reasons. I wanted you to begin a long journey better
+prepared than was possible after flight on a moment's notice, and I did
+not want you to go away thinking I was in ignorance of your motives. I
+can tell you here and now that you will save your father, if his
+position is such that he needs safe-guarding; further, you will never be
+compelled to marry Percy Whittaker."
+
+"Bob," she whispered brokenly. "I would rather die!"
+
+Then Armathwaite flung restraint to the winds. He gathered her in his
+arms, and lifted the tear-stained face to his.
+
+"Sweetheart," he said, "in the midst of such madness, let you and me be
+sane. I love you! You are the only woman I have ever loved. If I am
+allowed by Providence to begin life once more, you are the only woman I
+shall ever love. You were brought to me by a kindly fate, and I refuse
+to let you go now without telling you that you carry my heart with you.
+I ask for no answer at this moment. Some day in the future, when the
+clouds have lifted from your young life, I'll come to you--"
+
+But Marguerite gave him her answer then. Lifting herself on tip-toe, she
+kissed him on the lips.
+
+"Bob," she said tremulously, "I think I knew you were my chosen mate, if
+God willed it, when we parted on that first night in the Grange."
+
+That first night! It was hardly thirty-six hours ago, yet these two had
+crowded into that brief space more tribulation than many lovers undergo
+in a lifetime; and sorrow knits hearts more closely and lastingly than
+joy.
+
+Armathwaite could hardly credit the evidence of his senses. He had come
+to regard himself as so immeasurably older than this delightful girl
+that it seemed wildly improbable that she could return the almost
+hopeless love which had sprung into sudden and fierce activity in his
+breast. Yet, here she was, lying snug in his embrace, and gazing up at
+him with glistening eyes, her lips distended, her arms clasping him, her
+heart beating tumultuously in the first transports of passion.
+
+He kissed her again and again, and could have held her there seemingly
+forever; but they were driven apart by a curious humming sound which
+bore a singular resemblance to the purr of a powerful automobile
+climbing a steep hill.
+
+Marguerite disengaged herself from her lover's embrace with a flushing
+self-consciousness that was, in itself, vastly attractive.
+
+"Bob," she murmured, stooping to pick up a fallen hat and mackintosh,
+"miracles are happening. Here are you and I forgetting a world in which
+evil things find a place, and here is a motor-car crossing Elmdale moor
+for the first time in history."
+
+"It would not surprise me in the least if the visitant proved to be a
+flying-machine," he laughed, finding it hard to withdraw his ardent gaze
+from those flushed cheeks and that tangled mass of brown hair.
+
+But the insistent drumming of an engine grew ever louder, and soon a
+long, low-built touring car swept into view over the last undulation.
+Apparently, it was untenanted save by a chauffeur, and Armathwaite's
+brain, recovering its balance after a whirl of delirium, was beginning
+to guess at a possible explanation of this strange occurrence, when the
+car slowed as it neared them, and finally halted.
+
+"Are you Mr. Armathwaite, sir?" inquired the chauffeur.
+
+"Yes."
+
+The man lifted his cap.
+
+"This is the car you ordered from York last night, sir."
+
+"How thoughtful of you to follow!" cried Armathwaite, overjoyed by this
+quite unexpected bit of good fortune. He had not only forgotten that the
+car was on order--an impulse of the moment when he realized how tied he
+and all others were to the house if anything in the nature of a sudden
+and rapid journey came on the _tapis_--but, in any event, he had not
+looked for its arrival before mid-day, and the hour was yet barely ten
+o'clock.
+
+"Your servants thought you might need me, sir," explained the man, "so I
+came after you. It's a scorcher of a road for the first mile, but the
+rest isn't so bad, if it keeps in the same condition."
+
+Now, what had actually happened was this. The chauffeur had reached the
+Grange about twenty minutes after Armathwaite's departure. At that
+moment Smith was chaining and padlocking the gate, but Betty heard the
+snorting of the car, and came to find out its cause.
+
+When the chauffeur told her that he was there in response to an order,
+the quick-witted girl told him to hurry up the moor road. He looked at
+it, and grinned.
+
+"What! Take a valuable machine over a track like that! Not me!" he said.
+
+"Can't it go there?" she inquired.
+
+"It can go anywhere, for that matter."
+
+"Are you afraid, then?"
+
+"Afraid of what? D'ye think I want to twist an axle or smash a wheel?"
+
+Then one of the laboring men joined in.
+
+"I reckon you don't know t' maister," he said. "He wouldn't care a pin
+if you smashed yourself, but you've got to obey orders. He's one of the
+sort who has his own way. Good pay, no beer, an' hard work is _his_
+motter. It is, an' all."
+
+Between maid and man, the chauffeur decided to risk it. When all was
+said and done, it would be a bad beginning in a new job if the servants
+reported his refusal to follow on.
+
+"Is he far ahead?" he inquired.
+
+"Mebbe a mile over t' top."
+
+Starting the engine on the switch, he put the car at the hill, and, like
+many another difficulty, it was not insurmountable when tackled boldly.
+So, behold! A comfortable and easy way was opened to Leyburn, at any
+rate, and Armathwaite laughed gayly.
+
+"Now we'll breakfast, and discuss," said he. "The gods have sent us a
+chariot!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+IN WHICH THE AREA WIDENS
+
+
+If any critic, on perusing this chronicle, is moved to peevish
+condemnation of Armathwaite's amazing conduct that morning, the man
+himself would be the last to protest. He might urge that he was dazzled
+by the new and entrancing realm whose bright waters and fair meads he
+could discern beyond the present rough and dangerous ground. He might
+plead the literal truth--that when he went in pursuit of Marguerite
+Ogilvey he had no more intention of declaring his love than of hastening
+to Dover and endeavoring forthwith to swim the English Channel. But,
+making every allowance for a confirmed celibate who had suddenly become
+a devout lover, and to whose arms the lady of his choice had committed
+herself without any pretense of restraint, it must still be admitted
+that he was guilty of a most singular omission in failing to make known
+to her his very identity!
+
+He remembered the phenomenal lapse when too late. Even to that practical
+side of his character which reproached the emotional side with a
+ridiculous forgetfulness, he could only say, in mitigation of sentence,
+that the sudden appearance of the car brought about such a novel
+situation that all else yielded to the need for prompt and skillful
+judgment in deciding Marguerite's immediate future.
+
+It was all the more difficult to think logically and act decisively when
+Marguerite herself, ever and anon, was lifting adorably shy eyes to his
+while the two were making the best of the unusual meal he had provided.
+There, nevertheless, within a few feet, stood the obedient giant whose
+stout mechanism rendered many things possible that were hitherto
+impossible. The chauffeur, who gave his name as Storr, had taken off the
+bonnet for a critical glance at the six cylinders which had forced
+nearly two tons of metal and wood up the stony and rutted surface of one
+of the worst moorland tracks in Yorkshire. He seemed to be more than
+satisfied. The water in the radiator had got rather excited, but that
+was only to be expected. A close eye was given to other essentials, and
+the tire covers were examined, but every part of the car had withstood
+the strain of a fearsome hill splendidly.
+
+Storr had never doubted, but, like a prudent general, he reviewed his
+forces after the engagement, and found them not only intact, but ready
+for mightier deeds. Then, merely to gratify the sense of touch, as a
+horseman strokes a willing and well-groomed steed, he fingered a tap or
+two, shut off the engine, and asked Armathwaite if he might smoke a
+cigarette while awaiting further orders.
+
+His employer thanked him for the word. It recalled the motive of
+Marguerite's flight. Some plan of action must be arrived at, and without
+delay.
+
+"Smoke, by all means," he said, summing up the man at a glance as a
+bluff and honest sort of follow who would be thoroughly dependable if
+properly handled. "How long did the run from York to Elmdale take?"
+
+"A little more than two hours, sir. I started at half-past seven. Your
+telegram said I was to arrive by noon, but our people thought they'd
+please a new customer by bein' a bit afore time. They didn't wire,
+because the car would be to hand almost as quick as a telegram."
+
+"Can you go from Leyburn to York in two hours?"
+
+"Easily, sir."
+
+"Very well. Just pull your machine a few yards ahead, and Miss Ogilvey
+and I will discuss the day's program."
+
+Storr obeyed, and Armathwaite outlined to a willing listener the
+project he had already formed.
+
+"First," he said, "here is a telegram from your mother. I opened it. I
+thought it was best----"
+
+"Why, of course, Bob dear; why shouldn't you?"
+
+Bob dear! It was very pleasant to hear the phrase on Marguerite's lips,
+yet it rendered doubly distasteful the suggestion he had in mind; since
+where is the lover who will bring himself willingly to the task of
+telling his lady-love that they must part? But it had to be done.
+Marguerite must go--not quite so far as Cornwall, it is true, but much
+too far to please him, and he must return to the Grange, where, a sure
+instinct warned him, weighty matters would be settled that day.
+
+A cry of dismay from the girl gave him the cue he wanted.
+
+"Oh, she has started already!" she almost sobbed. "While I was flying to
+Warleggan she is traveling North. We shall pass each other on the way!"
+
+"No," he said, "that must not happen. You are going to be a good little
+sweetheart, and do as I tell you. This most excellent and comfortable
+car will take you to York. There you will ascertain from an obliging
+station-master what time Mrs. Ogilvey can arrive from Tavistock,
+assuming she left there at or about the hour stated in the message, and
+you'll meet her. At a rough guess, Mrs. Ogilvey should be in York about
+six o'clock. You'll escort her to the station hotel, give her something
+to eat, and calmly discuss the whole affair while the same luxurious
+automobile is bringing you back to Elmdale."
+
+"But, what of the danger dad may be in?"
+
+"I am coming to that. I believe, somehow, that your mother will relieve
+your mind in that respect. Remember, I have always held, since the main
+features of this extraordinary affair became clear, that your father has
+acted throughout with his wife's cognizance, if not with her complete
+approval. Now, if that is so, she is the one person who can decide
+whether you return with her to Elmdale or hasten through the night to
+Warleggan. Again hazarding a guess, I don't think you could reach your
+father to-night, even though you caught the first available train from
+York. Cornwall is a long way from Yorkshire. By starting this minute,
+you might be in York by one o'clock. Allowing eleven hours for the
+journey, an estimate I am doubtful about, you would arrive at Tavistock
+at midnight, whereas it is highly probable there is no such train, nor
+one so rapid. By the way, why, do you think, did Mrs. Ogilvey telegraph
+from Tavistock?"
+
+"She would drive there--some twelve miles. No telegram could be
+dispatched from Warleggan before the post office opened at eight."
+
+"She may have had an even more powerful reason. The message is sent to
+'Garth,' not to 'Ogilvey.' Isn't it quite rational to suppose that she
+hopes no one in Elmdale knows about the change of name?"
+
+"Yes," said Meg, trying to look calmly judicial. "That sounds
+reasonable."
+
+"Then every consideration points to the wisdom of awaiting your mother
+at York."
+
+"But, Bob dear, have you thought of the awful result if Percy carries
+out his threat?"
+
+"Percy will not do anything dramatic to-day, I promise you. I have
+scared him badly already, and I'm going back now with the full intent
+that he shall cause no more mischief until I hear from, or see, Mrs.
+Ogilvey and yourself, or one of you. Perhaps, to relieve my anxiety, you
+will send a message from York announcing your decision?"
+
+"Yes; I'll do that. You are really convinced that I ought to meet
+mother?"
+
+"I'm sure of it."
+
+"Then you can trust me. I'll do as you say. You needn't have any fear
+that between here and York I'll change my mind. Bob, you believe me,
+don't you, when I tell you that I ran away this morning because I dared
+not take you into my confidence? I could not bring myself to explain the
+true meaning of Percy's horrid insinuations."
+
+"Please, forget Percy. I'll deal with him."
+
+"But you won't be too angry with him? It is hard to endure, I know, that
+he should play on his defenseless state, but, if he were quite well and
+uninjured, he could offer you no resistance."
+
+He laughed. The notion of Percy Whittaker and himself engaging in a
+desperate conflict for physical supremacy was intensely amusing.
+
+"If you mean that I am not to assault him, I promise that with all my
+heart," he said. "I gripped him rather strenuously an hour ago, I admit,
+but then I was angry with him. Now I feel that I owe him a deep debt of
+gratitude, because he has brought to pass something which I hardly dared
+dream of. Don't you see, dearest, that if Percy hadn't behaved meanly to
+you I shouldn't now be calling you dearest, and wishing that our
+sharp-eyed chauffeur were anywhere else in the wide world but where he
+is. Now, no more words, but deeds! Off you go to York! What money have
+you?"
+
+"Plenty."
+
+"What do you call plenty?"
+
+"Dad gave me fifteen pounds when I left home, and I've spent less than
+five."
+
+"Well, then, sweetheart, it is good-by till this evening."
+
+"Oh, Bob darling, I shall pray that it may be so!"
+
+Storr received his orders without lifting an eyelid, which was highly
+creditable to him, having regard to the peculiar conditions under which
+he had met his employer. Of course, he was ignorant of the state of
+affairs at the Grange. He imagined that Mr. Armathwaite was escorting a
+young lady over the moor to Leyburn, which was a funny way to reach
+York, when Nuttonby lay on a better road, which was also the more direct
+route. But there was nothing unusual in the fact that he should be
+taking Miss Ogilvey to meet her mother, while the car would make light
+of the three journeys.
+
+"You'd better have this, sir, and see if it's right," he said, giving
+Armathwaite a note. A glance showed that it dealt with terms for the
+hire of the car.
+
+"Tell your people it is quite satisfactory," said Armathwaite, and,
+after a farewell pressure of Meg's hand, and a look from the brown eyes
+which remained with him like a blessing, the car started. He watched
+until it had vanished over a long undulation of the road, and saw the
+last flutter of Meg's handkerchief ere she crossed the sky-line. Then he
+mounted the bicycle, and rode swiftly back to the tiny hamlet in which,
+during two short days, he had passed through so many and so much varied
+experiences.
+
+Looking down from the crest of the hill at the sunlit panorama of farm
+and field, woodland and furze-grown common, with Elmdale's cluster of
+homesteads nestling close beneath the moor, and the spire of Bellerby
+Church (near which lay the mortal remains of "Stephen Garth") rising
+above a cluster of elms in the middle distance, it seemed to be a
+fantastic and unreal notion that so many of life's evils, so much of its
+beauty and happiness, could have found full scope for their expression
+in that tiny and remote place.
+
+As the hill was too dangerous in parts to ride, he dismounted twice. He
+was about to coast down the last straight slope to the house when a
+thought struck him with such blinding force that he nearly lost control
+of the bicycle. Fool that he was, his first care should have been to
+tell Marguerite that his name was not Armathwaite; that he had adopted
+an incognito simply to avoid the prying eyes and inquisitive tongues of
+those with whom he might be brought in contact; that, in marrying him,
+she was stepping forth from the seclusion of a student's retreat into
+the full glare of public life. Oh, the deuce take all complications and
+worries! He had won Marguerite by extraordinary means--he must do his
+wooing in more orthodox manner, and in his true colors.
+
+He was traveling at a rate which kept pace with the tornado in his mind,
+but the second nature brought into being by an adventurous career bent a
+watchful eye on the inequalities of the road, so that he was actually
+slowing up somewhat short of the gate leading to the Grange garden when
+he became aware of an unusual concourse of people gathered in the
+roadway. A motor-car and two dog-carts were halted near the gable of
+Mrs. Jackson's cottage, and a number of men--among them two in police
+uniform--who seemed to have collected into a chatting group, dissolved
+into units when he approached.
+
+He recognized a groom at a horse's head as Dr. Scaife's man; all the
+others were total strangers.
+
+But not for long.
+
+Sir Berkeley Hutton, brought to Elmdale by a neighborly curiosity
+strengthened by the call of the East, appeared to be overwhelmed with
+surprise at sight of Armathwaite. But the worthy baronet did not lose
+the faculty of speech. No conceivable catastrophe, short of instant
+death, could deprive him of that.
+
+"God bless my soul!" he cried, advancing with outstretched hand.
+"Baluchi Bob! The last man breathing I ever expected to see in Elmdale!
+Did the monsoon break earlier than usual this year, or what wind of
+heaven blew _you_ here?"
+
+"Hullo, Barker!" cried Armathwaite, hailing him with manifest pleasure.
+"I didn't know you had pitched your tent in these parts!"
+
+"Yes, but, dash it all, Bob, what's the game? They told me someone name
+of Armathwaite, in the Politicals, had taken the Grange."
+
+"Quite true. But you know I came a cropper in India, and I was a bit
+tired of the _sturm und drang_ of existence, so I hied me to cover under
+my mother's maiden name. I suppose I have a sort of right to it, though
+it doesn't seem to have proved altogether successful as a cloak."
+
+"By gad! I can hardly agree with you there. I felt as though I'd come a
+purler over wire when I saw Baluchi Bob dropping off that bicycle. Great
+Scott! You on a bike! How have the mighty fallen! But I'll lend you a
+hack till you collect a few useful screws, unless you're bitten by this
+new craze for rushing about the country in a gastank. And won't Mollie
+be glad to see you! It was only the other day she was talkin' about the
+Pup, and sayin' that if it hadn't been for you----"
+
+"Oh, tell Mollie to forget that old tale, or she'll make me nervous!"
+
+Each word exchanged between the two was heard distinctly by the others,
+and, such is the queer way in which the affairs of life sometimes take
+an unexpected twist, there was a marked and instant change of attitude
+on the part of three men, at least, who had come to Elmdale that day
+prepared to treat the Grange's new tenant as a potential criminal.
+Banks, mouthpiece of the _Nuttonby Gazette_, who had bicycled thither in
+the hope of securing another batch of readable copy for a special
+Saturday edition, suddenly found himself reviewing, with a sinking
+heart, one or two rather ticklish paragraphs in the screed already
+published anent "The Elmdale mystery." As for the superintendent and
+inspector of police from Nuttonby, they forthwith recanted certain
+opinions formed after hearing Banks's story and reading the current
+issue of his newspaper.
+
+For Sir Berkeley Hutton was a county magnate, chairman of the Nuttonby
+bench, an alderman of the County Council, a Deputy Lieutenant, and
+goodness knows what else of a power in civic and social circles, and
+here was he hailing this stranger as an intimate friend, being himself
+greeted by the nickname earned by a loud and strident utterance which
+never failed, speaking of Lady Hutton as "Mollie," of his eldest son as
+"the Pup." County police and country editors must be chary of accepting
+the evidence of James Walkers and Tom Blands against the guarantee of
+such a man, or they may get their corns trodden on most painfully!
+
+All at once, Sir Berkeley Hutton seemed to recollect the talk which had
+been going on outside the locked and barred gate, for Begonia Smith and
+his henchmen had refused to pass anyone but the doctor and nurse, who
+were with their patient at that moment.
+
+"I say, Bob," he went on, in a thunderous whisper quite as audible as
+his ordinary voice, "I'm devilish glad it's you--I am, 'pon my
+soul!--because some of these chaps have been spinnin' the queerest sort
+of yarn, in which a murder, a suicide, a ghost, and a pretty girl are
+mixed up in fine style. Just tell 'em all to go to blazes, will
+you?--except Dobb. Dobb's a decent fellow, and he acted for the people
+who used to live here--Hi! Dobb. This is----" Then it dawned on him that
+his friend might wish still to preserve his anonymity save in the sacred
+circle of the elect, so he broke off into "Come along, Dobb! I want you
+to meet one of the best fellows who ever wore shoe-leather!"
+
+Dobb advanced. With him came a gentleman who was as unknown to Nuttonby
+as Armathwaite himself. Before the solicitor could speak, his companion
+said quietly:
+
+"Sir Robert Dalrymple, I believe?"
+
+"Yes," and Marguerite's "chosen mate" looked him very searchingly and
+squarely in the eyes.
+
+"My name is Morand," said the other. "I am sent here by the India Office
+to tell you----" he glanced around in momentary hesitation.
+
+"Pray, go on," said Dalrymple, as Armathwaite must be described
+henceforth. "There is nothing that the India Office has to communicate
+which I am not willing that all the world should hear."
+
+"Happily, Sir Robert, this is a communication which all the world ought
+to hear. The Maharajah of Barapur is dead. He was assassinated last
+Monday while driving through the bazaar. His prime minister, Chalwar
+Singh, was with him, and was mortally wounded at the same time."
+
+"Then India is well rid of two pestilent scoundrels," said Dalrymple
+unconcernedly.
+
+"That is the view now held by the Government," was the grave answer.
+
+"A death-bed conversion, of a sort," commented his hearer dryly.
+
+"A death-bed confession, too," said Morand. "It was a fortunate thing
+that both men lived long enough to reveal that they had concocted the
+whole story of the Maharani's pearls in order to get you shelved. Your
+administration was too honest. They played on your well-known
+carelessness in trivial matters of detail, and bribed your native
+secretary, Muncherji, to include in your correspondence the letters
+which seemed to prove your complicity in a serious breach of trust.
+Muncherji, by rare good chance, was not in Barapur when the Maharajah
+and Chalwar Singh were riddled with bullets, so he was arrested before
+he knew of the affair. He, too, has confessed. In fact, I can convey
+everything in a sentence. The Government of India has reinstated you in
+the High Commissionership, and you are gazetted as absent on leave. I am
+the bearer of ample apologies from the India Office, which will be
+tendered to you in person by my chief when he meets you in London.
+Meanwhile, I am to request you to allow the announcement to be made
+public that you will return to India on a named date, while the
+appointment of your deputy is left open for your recommendation."
+
+Dalrymple paled slightly, which was the only evidence he gave of the
+effect such a statement was bound to produce on a proud and ambitious
+nature, but Sir Berkeley Hutton was irrepressible.
+
+"By gad!" he roared, "somebody's gold lace has been rolled in the dust
+of Calcutta before the India Department climbed down like that. I never
+heard anything like it--never! 'Pon me soul! Won't Mollie be pleased?"
+
+Yet the man to whom the path of empire was again thrown open spoke no
+word. It was good to have his honor cleared of the stain put on it by a
+scheming Indian prince and his henchmen. It was good to find himself
+standing once more in the high place he had won by self-sacrificing work
+and unflinching adherence to an ideal of efficient government. But his
+thoughts were with a sorrow-stricken girl speeding to a sad tryst with a
+mother who might bring tidings that would blight her life for many a
+year.
+
+Morand grew anxious. He shared Dalrymple's knowledge of the tremendous
+issues bound up with an affair of State of real magnitude, and he did
+not want to fail in this, his first confidential mission.
+
+"If there is anything else I can say, Sir Robert----" he began, and his
+voice disrupted a dream.
+
+"It's all right, Morand," said the other, letting a hand rest on the
+shoulder of the younger man in that characteristic way of his. "I'm not
+such a cur as to snarl when I have been proved right, and my traducers
+are ready to admit their blunder. I didn't yelp when the blow fell. I'm
+not going to kick up a bobbery now when I'm given back my spurs. Tell
+your chief that I'll come to him soon, within a week, if possible. I
+have business on my hands here that calls imperatively for settlement.
+I'll deal first with that; then I'll come. Are you returning to town at
+once?"
+
+"By the first available train. More than that, I am to telegraph your
+decision to Whitehall. Between you and me, some people are in a howling
+funk lest a question should be put in the House."
+
+"That isn't the frontier method. Men who appeal to Parliament when
+things go wrong are of no value to India. But I don't want to preach."
+
+"Won't you come in?"
+
+"If you'll pardon me, I'll hurry back to Nuttonby. That telegram is
+called for urgently. What about your deputy?"
+
+"Collins was transferred to Oudh because he supported me. Send him to
+Barapur. The natives will understand that better than a dozen
+gazettes."
+
+"Thanks. That clinches it, Sir Robert. Mr. Dobb, do you mind if we start
+immediately?"
+
+Mr. Dobb did mind. For one thing, he had not spoken a word to Sir Robert
+Dalrymple yet. For another, Nuttonby loomed larger in his mind than some
+wrangle in far-away Hindustan, and Nuttonby was seething with rumors
+anent present and past inhabitants of the Grange.
+
+"We, like the State of Barapur, have our little troubles," he said
+guardedly. "Sir Robert has shown already that he appreciates their
+gravity. My car will take you to Nuttonby, Mr. Morand, and come back for
+me."
+
+The representative of the India Office was only too pleased to get away
+on any terms. He knew that a reassuring message was wanted in Whitehall.
+There were wheels within wheels. A question _was_ put in the House that
+night, and an Under-Secretary scoffed at the notion that Sir Robert
+Dalrymple, "a trusted servant of his country, whose splendid work on the
+Indus was most thoroughly appreciated by the Government of India," had
+been requested to resign. As a matter of public interest, he was pleased
+to inform the honorable questioner that Sir Robert Dalrymple, only that
+day, had put forward the name of Mr. Mortimer Collins, I.C.S., to act
+as his deputy in Barapur until he returned from short leave granted on
+"urgent private affairs."
+
+The motor was already trumpeting its way through a mob of Elmdale
+urchins, who seldom saw a car, and had never before seen two in one day,
+when Dalrymple found himself regretting he had not inquired how Morand
+contrived to get on his track so easily. Some weeks elapsed before he
+learned that the only friend in London who knew his whereabouts thought
+it a duty to speak when the hue and cry went forth from the India
+Office.
+
+Dalrymple was with his friend, a retired general, in his club when the
+vexed administrator announced his intention to retire from the arena and
+take a well-earned rest.
+
+"I'll assume my mother's name, Armathwaite," he had said, "and rusticate
+in some place where Barapur is unknown and India never mentioned. Let's
+have a look at the map!"
+
+He glanced at a motoring road-book lying on the club table.
+
+"Here we are!" he laughed. "Judging by the condition of the highways,
+there are backwoods near Nuttonby, in Yorkshire. My postal address will
+be Armathwaite, near Nuttonby, for some months. But I'll write."
+
+So that was how it happened that Sir Robert Dalrymple came to the
+Grange, and met Marguerite Ogilvey. Some part of the outcome of that
+meeting was foreshadowed while Smith of the Begonias was unlocking the
+gate, because a procession of three appeared in the porch.
+
+Dr. Scaife and a nurse were carrying Percy Whittaker between them. The
+doctor's distress was almost comical when he caught sight of Dalrymple.
+He shouted brokenly, being rather breathless:
+
+"For goodness' sake--Mr. Armathwaite--come and persuade this young
+man--to remain here. He insists--on being taken away--at once!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE LAYING OF THE GHOST
+
+
+It has been seen that Dalrymple had a short way with the Percy
+Whittakers of this world. He strode up the garden path and confronted
+Whittaker, who was standing on one foot and clinging in pain and terror
+to Dr. Scaife and the nurse.
+
+"You had better remain here," he said sternly. "Miss Ogilvey has only
+gone to meet her mother at York. Both ladies will probably arrive this
+evening. Why are you making yourself a nuisance when everyone is doing
+all that is possible to serve you?"
+
+Whittaker clutched the doctor even more tightly.
+
+"He says that before witnesses," he quavered, "yet less than an hour ago
+he tried to strangle me."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense! I don't believe it!" protested Scaife emphatically.
+
+"I frightened him, undoubtedly," said Dalrymple. "It was necessary.
+Sometimes a threatened spanking is as effectual as the real thing, and
+Mr. Whittaker's nervous system has led him to take an exaggerated view
+of my intentions. The fact is that he himself was responsible for a show
+of violence on my part. Meanwhile, Marguerite Ogilvey, whom you have
+always known as Meg Garth, Dr. Scaife, has promised to become my wife,
+so Mr. Whittaker and I have no further cause for quarrel. Indeed, by the
+time he is able to walk downstairs unassisted, his own good sense will
+come to the rescue, and blot out any unpleasant memories as between him
+and me.... Now, Percy, my boy, let me use my muscles to better purpose
+than choking the life out of you. I'm going to carry you back to bed
+again."
+
+His air of quiet domination, no less than the news which sounded the
+knell of Whittaker's hopes, seemed to mesmerize the neurotic youth into
+silence and submission. Dalrymple took him in his arms, lifted him off
+the ground with gentle care, and carried him to the bedroom he had
+insisted on leaving. The nurse followed, and he left the invalid in her
+care.
+
+Hastening to the porch, he found Dr. Scaife mopping his forehead; the
+worthy doctor was more upset by the frenzied statements made by Percy
+than by the physical effort involved by carrying him downstairs.
+
+"Wait one moment," he said. "I'm bringing in some men whom you know.
+Then I shall explain everything."
+
+He passed on to the gate.
+
+"I want you, Hutton, and you, Mr. Dobb, to come into the house. Those
+police officers also had better join us. Who is the other man?"
+
+"Mr. Banks, of the _Nuttonby Gazette_," said the baronet.
+
+"Very well. Let him come, too. Better tell him what he must not say
+rather than correct his blunders subsequently in a court of law."
+
+Mr. Dobb, being a lawyer, doubted the wisdom of admitting a
+representative of the press to their conclave, but Dalrymple's air of
+authority kept him dumb. During the drive from Nuttonby the delegate of
+the India Office had discoursed on the important position this stranger
+occupied in India, and it was not for a country solicitor, who hardly
+guessed what was coming, to question his decision before he knew its
+scope.
+
+And therein Dalrymple showed his genius. Banks, already in a flutter
+because of certain indiscretions in his printed references to the
+inquest, was at once soothed and gratified by the great man's tact. The
+police superintendent found the ground cut away from beneath his feet by
+the full and complete version of recent events which Dalrymple
+supplied. Sir Berkeley and the doctor listened to the recital with
+ill-suppressed amazement, but, at the end, they agreed, each and all,
+with Dalrymple's suggestion that judgment should be suspended until Mrs.
+Ogilvey was in Elmdale.
+
+He did not attempt to argue that the law should not take its course.
+
+"During the past ten years," he said, "I have held the lives and
+liberties of two millions of people in my keeping, so I need hardly say
+that I am a most unlikely person to fly in the face of authority. But
+there are circumstances connected with this inquiry which call for
+careful treatment. Some man died here, and was buried, and the law must
+be satisfied that Mr. Stephen Ogilvey was either ignorant of the
+occurrence, or had no guilty knowledge of it--which is not quite the
+same thing--before he can be exonerated from the grave suspicion at
+present attached to his actions of two years ago. Now, I have not the
+honor of knowing either Mr. Ogilvey or his wife, but I do hold that they
+could not have won the respect of their neighbors during twenty years of
+residence in this house and yet be capable of planning and committing an
+atrocious murder. I would point out that Mrs. Ogilvey shares some of the
+blame, or the guilt, of her husband. If he is a criminal, she knows it.
+The law looks with lenient eyes on a woman who shields a man in such
+conditions, but that element in human affairs only goes to strengthen my
+contention that Mrs. Ogilvey can, if she chooses, throw a flood of light
+on this strange problem. She is now on her way North. Her daughter has
+gone to York to meet her. In all likelihood, one or both ladies will be
+in Elmdale to-night. Is it not reasonable to ask that investigation by
+the police into a singular occurrence now two years old should be
+postponed till to-morrow? Gentlemen, I promise you this. Come here
+to-morrow, say, about two o'clock, and you will be placed in possession
+of every fact then known to me. It is obvious, in my opinion, that the
+police can hardly adopt any other course, but I am bound to point out to
+Mr. Banks that the man who writes, and the newspaper which publishes,
+theories or speculations with regard to this matter before it is fully
+cleared up through the proper channel, will incur a most serious
+responsibility."
+
+Sir Berkeley Hutton, of course, had a word to say.
+
+"Mr. Garth, or Mr. Ogilvey as you now call him, is an old and valued
+friend of mine," he declared, "and it is my fixed and definite belief
+that if he was stung by a wasp he would find some excuse for a poor
+insect which was only trying to protect itself from imaginary danger.
+Stephen Garth kill anybody! Stuff and nonsense!"
+
+Mr. Dobb, too, was incredulous in so far as his friend's criminality was
+concerned.
+
+"Mr. Garth certainly wrote the letter to the coroner," he said. "I saw
+it, and recognized his handwriting. Therefore, he knew that a death had
+taken place, and used a remarkably ingenious method of hoodwinking the
+authorities. That, in itself, is a legal offense--the magnitude of which
+alone can be estimated when we know the truth. I agree with Sir Robert
+Dalrymple. We must await Mrs. Garth's, or, I suppose I must learn to
+say, Mrs. Ogilvey's, arrival before any other steps are taken.
+Meanwhile, it is of the utmost importance that no word of this
+discussion shall travel beyond these four walls."
+
+"Will Sir Robert Dalrymple undertake to notify me of Mrs. Ogilvey's
+presence?" was the very pertinent inquiry made by the police
+superintendent.
+
+Dalrymple undertook readily to send a messenger into Nuttonby early next
+morning, and his diplomacy was rewarded by seeing the conclave break up
+on that understanding. Nevertheless, he passed a miserable and restless
+day. He had not stemmed the torrent, but diverted it. If his faith was
+not justified, if Marguerite's mother either refused to give any
+explanation of her husband's extraordinary ruse, or denied all knowledge
+of it, there was no getting away from the fact that the elderly recluse
+might soon be lodged in a felon's cell.
+
+Marguerite herself would strain every nerve to save her father, if only
+by flight, but her lover realized how futile that would prove. He had
+secured a respite--and no more. If Mrs. Ogilvey's admissions led her
+daughter to journey on through the night to Warleggan, the girl might
+contrive to hurry her father out of England before the bolt fell. But to
+what avail? They would be traced with ease. Their flight, the pursuit,
+the arrest, would only add fuel to the flame lighted by inquisitive
+newspapers. Better, far better, that the man should face an inquiry at
+once rather than be put on trial after a vain attempt to escape.
+
+It was almost a relief to visit Percy Whittaker during the afternoon,
+and endeavor to convert him from active enmity into a sulky acquiescence
+in things as they were, and not as he hoped they would be. Luckily,
+Dalrymple had estimated a curious temperament with singular accuracy.
+After a long conversation, in which the older man cajoled and flattered
+Percy by turns, the latter declared that he never meant to put his
+threat into force.
+
+"I'm not such an ass as to want to marry a girl who loathed the sight of
+me," he said ruefully. "I tried to frighten Meg. I guessed she'd run off
+to Warleggan. My motive was to separate the pair of you. Then I'd
+follow, as soon as this confounded ankle of mine would permit, and tell
+her candidly that I was frantically jealous of you. Dash it all, and not
+without good cause! All's fair in love an' war, Mr. Armathwaite. I've a
+notion now that my splutter simply drove her into your arms."
+
+"My name is not Armathwaite----" began Dalrymple, whereupon Whittaker
+glared at him in a new frenzy.
+
+"I never thought it was!" he vociferated. "Let me tell you you're the
+biggest puzzle of the lot. I shan't be a bit surprised if you say you
+are the fellow who hanged somebody here, and persuaded old Garth to
+stand the racket."
+
+So, to pass the time while the nurse was eating a meal, Dalrymple told
+him the story of Barapur, and Percy heard, and was subdued, since he
+knew now that, come what might, Marguerite Ogilvey was lost to him
+forever.
+
+Then, while Dalrymple was surveying the day's work of Smith and his
+men, and declaring it was good, there came a messenger from Bellerby on
+a borrowed bicycle, bearing a telegram. It was from Marguerite, and
+Dalrymple's heart danced with joy when he read:
+
+"All is well. Father leaves for York to-night. He will join mother and
+me early to-morrow. Expect us about ten o'clock. Am detaining car. Love,
+MEG."
+
+All is well! What was well? It was a woman's message, which assumed
+everything and told nothing, except the one amazing fact that Stephen
+Ogilvey's wife had evidently decided that the period of concealment was
+ended, and that her husband should now vindicate himself in the eyes of
+his world.
+
+At any rate, a youth returned to Bellerby with two bicycles and the
+richer by two sovereigns, so it is tolerably certain that Dalrymple's
+few words of congratulation were not delayed on the way.
+
+The new tenant smoked and mused in the garden for another hour, until
+Betty came to summon him to dinner. He was entering the house when he
+saw the ghost again, a phantom divested now of eeriness, because a round
+blob of sunshine shone on the wall instead of the white sockets of eyes
+which lent such a ghoulish aspect to the shadowy face. Then he did a
+queer thing. Lifting the grandfather's clock, and disregarding the
+protest of weights and pendulum thumping against its wooden ribs, he
+placed it exactly where the reflection of the window fell. Instantly,
+the ghost vanished. The dark mahogany case absorbed the outlines of the
+figure. The old Spanish wood glowed richly here and there where the
+lights were strongest, and a disk of gold illumined the dull brass of
+the clock's face. And that was the end of the Elmdale ghost! Never again
+would it be seen until someone moved the clock, and Sir Robert Dalrymple
+vowed that such alteration should not occur in his time.
+
+Luckily, Dr. Scaife came just as Dalrymple was sitting down to a
+solitary meal, and he was promptly bidden to the feast. Dalrymple showed
+him Marguerite's telegram, and they discussed it for an hour, or longer,
+though with no result, for they could only theorize, and, since truth is
+stranger than fiction, even two such acute minds failed to arrive at the
+actual solution of the mystery.
+
+Dalrymple went late to bed, and awoke early, to find that the
+much-maligned British climate had produced another fine day. It was
+joyous to see the sun shining into his bedroom; it was still more joyous
+to descend the stairs, and glimpse the blue sky through the Black
+Prince's visor. A current of pure, sweet-scented air came through the
+orifice, and seemed to presage a new span of life to the old house;
+Dalrymple decided, then and there, that when the turmoil had subsided,
+he would commission the best obtainable artist in stained glass to
+restore the Black Prince's features in guise befitting his character as
+a warrior, statesman, and true lover.
+
+A few minutes before ten Tom Bland came with a cartload of plants from a
+nursery. Smith and the laborers carried the boxes of flowers into the
+garden, and set them on both sides of the path, so that happy chance
+contrived that Marguerite should lead her parents to their old home
+through a blaze of color when the automobile brought them to the gate at
+ten o'clock.
+
+It is not often that any collection of mortals is privileged to see a
+ghost in broad daylight, and in the rays of a powerful sun at that, but
+such was the lot of carrier Bland, gardener Smith, and four gaping
+yokels of Elmdale, not to mention a quite respectable number of other
+inhabitants, when Stephen Garth alighted from the car and walked
+jauntily up the garden to the porch of his own house. To save Mrs.
+Jackson and Betty from spasms, Dalrymple had warned them previously of
+Mr. Garth's coming, but the men, and Elmdale generally, were not thus
+enlightened, and some of them would certainly have bolted had they not
+seen "the new guv'nor" shaking hands with "the old guv'nor," and had not
+the latter stopped to greet Begonia Smith with the exceedingly trite
+remark:
+
+"Well, Smith, I'm not so dead as you thought me!"
+
+"No, sir," said Smith, who did not find his tongue again until the
+newcomers had gone into the Grange.
+
+Then he turned to one of the men.
+
+"All I can say, Henery, is this," he murmured huskily. "I've heerd of
+people lookin' as though they'd bin dead an' dug up, but I'll take my
+oath no one has dug Mr. Garth out o' Bellerby Churchyard."
+
+"It must be all right, though," was the philosophic answer. "Miss Meg
+wouldn't look so happy if there was goin' to be trouble."
+
+"Ay! But hurry up with those begonias. In with 'em!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It would serve no good purpose to set forth in detail the manner in
+which Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvey cleared up the mystery on the one hand, and
+became mystified themselves on the other. Few parents can rear a
+charming daughter to womanhood without experiencing the surprise,
+almost the dismay, of finding that she has given her heart to a man of
+whom they know little. In this instance, a devoted father and an equally
+devoted mother could only listen in bewilderment when the girl, who was
+still a child in their eyes, introduced "Robert Armathwaite" as her
+promised husband, while their astonished eyes were only paralleled by
+Meg's own when the tall, grave-looking stranger proceeded to explain
+that he was not Robert Armathwaite, but Sir Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.
+
+Marguerite, at first, believed he was joking. When he assured her he was
+even more serious than usual, she relieved the situation by making an
+elaborate curtsey to her own reflection in an old-fashioned mirror in
+the drawing-room.
+
+"Lady Dalrymple!" she cried. "Presented at court by her humble self! Sir
+Robert Dalrymple, K.C.S.I.! Lady Dalrymple, K.I.S.S.!"
+
+Whereupon, she proceeded to invest each of them with her own order.
+
+When the bench, the bar, the police, and the press were duly represented
+that afternoon, Mr. Stephen Ogilvey spoke fully and frankly. His wife
+and daughter were present, and, if Mrs. Ogilvey wept a little during the
+recital, it was only natural.
+
+For she alone knew what this gentle-voiced, white-haired man had endured
+during those June days two years ago.
+
+Even the tender-hearted Marguerite could never realize the exquisite
+torture which her father had suffered voluntarily. Perhaps the presence
+of her lover, combined with the reaction of the discovery that her
+father had committed no actual crime, rendered her temporarily incapable
+of appreciating the motives which accounted for his actions.
+
+Be that as it may, this is his story:
+
+"To make clear the reason which led me to deceive my friends in Elmdale
+in such an extraordinary way, I must go back twenty-four years in my
+life. I was then thirty-five years of age, and Professor of Philology in
+a recently-formed University in the Midlands. I was married, but, as
+some of you know, my first and only child was not born until the events
+happened which drove me into retirement, and led my dear wife and myself
+to seek the peace and seclusion of Elmdale."
+
+It is not to be wondered at if Dalrymple and Marguerite exchanged
+smiling glances at those words; but the Professor's strange narrative
+should not be interrupted by lovers' confidences.
+
+"I am a man of highly sensitive nature," he went on, "and my mind almost
+gave way under the shock when my brother James, somewhat older than
+myself, who occupied a prominent position in Birmingham as manager of an
+important private bank, was reported missing from his office under
+circumstances which pointed to a serious and systematic embezzlement of
+the bank's funds. Day by day the scandal enlarged its bounds. The bank
+closed its doors; hundreds of people were ruined; there were several
+cases of suicide among the robbed depositors; and, at last, my brother,
+James Ogilvey, was arrested in France, owing to a chance meeting with a
+man who knew him. He was brought to trial, sentenced to a long term of
+penal servitude, and passed into seeming oblivion accompanied by the
+curses of thousands. My wife and I literally could not hold up our heads
+among our friends in the Midlands, and, as we were not wholly dependent
+on my earnings, we resolved to change our name and start life anew. At
+that crisis, my mother died. Undoubtedly her death was hastened by my
+brother's wrong-doing, and it is probable that she destroyed a will
+already in existence, meaning to make another, but was stricken down by
+apoplexy before she could carry out her intention. At any rate, no will
+was found, so her property became intestate. This house and ground
+belonged to her, but she was unknown locally, as she left Elmdale more
+than half a century ago, so, after settling some legal matters, my wife
+and I determined to live here, and adopt my wife's maiden name. There
+was no great difficulty. I still continued to do my work, which was
+mainly of a specialist nature, under my own name, but in Elmdale I was
+always 'Stephen Garth,' and the catastrophe in the Midlands soon passed
+into the mists when our child was born.
+
+"We reasoned that by the time she grew to womanhood, the memory of James
+Ogilvey's crime would have died away. At any rate, there was nothing to
+be gained by letting her know that such a person had ever existed, and
+you can take it from me that she was ignorant of the fact until a late
+hour yesterday. Some eight years ago, my unfortunate brother was
+released. I met him in London, supplied him with ample funds, and sent
+him to the Colonies, taking good care that he should know neither my
+altered name nor my address. I heard no more of him until the beginning
+of June, two years since, when he wrote to me as 'Stephen Garth,' said
+he was coming to live in my house, being tired of a roving life, and
+threatened to take lodgings in the village if I did not receive him.
+Now, my wife and I were determined that he should never cross our
+daughter's path if we could help it, so a journey to France was
+resolved on hastily and the two took their departure. For my own part, I
+decided to await my brother's coming, and try to reason with him. If he
+proved obdurate, I meant to join my wife and daughter abroad, and, to
+that end, as Mr. Dobb is aware, I made over all my property to my wife
+in trust for my daughter. This step was necessary, I believe, to save
+them from persecution at my brother's hands, because he had hinted at
+some grievance with regard to the disposition of my mother's estate, a
+grievance quite unfounded, since I had dealt with him most generously on
+his release from prison. In order to conceal his presence from the
+villagers until I had tried every argument to prevail on him to leave me
+and my family in peace, I arranged to meet him at Leyburn, and drive to
+the edge of the moor. I brought him to the house without anyone being
+the wiser, but I soon found I was a child in his hands. He played on my
+fear of publicity by agreeing to lie _perdu_ if I would supply him with
+drink. I bore with the infliction for some days until, driven to
+despair, I refused to purchase any more alcohol. There was a furious
+scene between us, and he threatened not merely exposure, but legal
+proceedings to force me to 'disgorge,' as he put it, his share of the
+property left by our mother, whose maiden name, by the way, Faulkner,
+is well known here. I realize now that James was in a state verging on
+dementia, but I may sum up a distressing period of four days and nights
+of suffering by saying that, in a final paroxysm of rage, he was seized
+with apoplexy, and died almost instantaneously.
+
+"Though convinced that he was dead, I hoped against hope for some hours.
+Then _rigor mortis_ set in, and I knew that the only man who had ever
+inflicted an injury on my good name had struck his last and shrewdest
+blow by dying in my house. I want you to consider the position I was in.
+A man, a stranger, was lying there dead, in circumstances that demanded
+an inquest. I had not called for a doctor, or obtained any assistance
+locally. I had sent my wife and daughter to a foreign country, obviously
+to get them out of the way. A _post-mortem_ examination would show that
+death had taken place nearly a day before I made any stir. If I
+destroyed certain documents in my brother's possession--such, for
+instance, as a ticket of leave, which he had retained long after its
+expiry for the mere purpose, I firmly believe, of bringing pressure to
+bear on me--there would be nothing to show his identity. In a word,
+there was a _prima facie_ case of murder ready to be established against
+me. Of course, the medical evidence would go to prove my innocence, but
+all the world--all of my small world, at any rate--would gape and gossip
+because of the scandal which my wife and I had given more than twenty
+years of our life to escape. For the sake of my wife and daughter I
+resolved upon a daring expedient. The 'Ogilvey fraud' of a previous
+generation was forgotten. Why should I not resume my own name, and let
+my brother die and be buried as Stephen Garth? I saw that my own
+behavior during the past week would help the assumption that I had
+committed suicide, while a rather marked resemblance between my brother
+and myself, together with the fact that he had died from apoplexy, would
+complete the illusion. Moreover, there exists, in connection with this
+very house, a curious legend which condemned seven generations of its
+owners to die by violence, either self-inflicted, or caused by others.
+James Ogilvey's death was the seventh, and I trusted to this alleged
+prophecy of a Spanish priest put to death by a sea-rover named Faulkner
+in the seventeenth century being sufficiently well known in connection
+with a shadow, or manifestation, cast on the wall by a stained-glass
+window in the staircase.
+
+"At any rate, I steeled my heart to a dreadful undertaking, dressed my
+brother in my own clothes, tied his body to a hook in the hall where
+the shadow I have spoken of is seen at this time of the year, and stole
+away across the moor after writing a letter to the coroner.
+
+"Gentlemen, I believe I have broken the law in some respects, and I am
+prepared to suffer for my misdeeds. Perhaps, a long and blameless and
+not wholly useless life may plead for me now. I acted as I did because
+of a certain pride in my work, and because of my love for a dear wife
+and daughter. I dreamed that the dead past had indeed buried its dead
+but, by a most unusual combination of simple circumstances, the whole
+strange story has been brought to light. I have nothing more to say. Now
+that a long ordeal of silence is ended, I am happier to-day than I ever
+thought to be again in my existence. I can produce a certain number of
+documents to prove what I may term the historical part of my confession.
+The really vital part of it--the manner of my brother's death--can
+receive no other testimony than my own, eked out by such statement as my
+friend, Dr. Scaife, may find himself able to make after hearing my
+version of the tragedy."
+
+Marguerite ran to her father and threw her arms around his neck.
+
+"If they take you before a judge, dad," she cried, "let me go into court
+and tell them that I was the cause of all the trouble. Then he will
+warn me not to be such a bad little girl, and sympathize with you so
+greatly that he will say you leave the court without a stain on your
+character."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As a matter of fact, owing to the attitude of the authorities and with
+the active assistance of Banks in the columns of the _Nuttonby Gazette_,
+the official inquiry into the affair attracted very little notice. A
+ten-line paragraph explained that it was Mr. James Ogilvey who died, and
+not Mr. Stephen Garth, and a special faculty was obtained to correct the
+announcement on the stone in Bellerby churchyard. Naturally, the people
+in Elmdale and the neighborhood had a pretty fair knowledge of the
+truth, but everyone was so pleased to see the "professor" and his wife
+again that the thing was hushed up with remarkable ease. Even Percy
+Whittaker held his tongue.
+
+Village gossip has it that Storr, the chauffeur, is badly smitten by
+Betty Jackson's charms. The girl's mother clinched matters by grumbling
+that "sen Betty's gotten a young man there's no doin' owt wi' her." And
+Begonia Smith turned the garden into a fairy-land that summer.
+
+The Black Prince received his new and most impressive set of features
+before a certain noteworthy marriage took place, and beamed a courtly
+approval on the bride when she descended the stairs in her wedding
+dress. In fact, the Elmdale tragedy received its quietus when James
+Walker, senior, and James Walker, junior, watched Sir Robert and Lady
+Dalrymple drive past their office _en route_ to Paris and the Continent.
+
+Said the father:
+
+"Little things often lead to the most surprising events. Who'd ha'
+thought, Jimmie, when we let the 'House 'Round the Corner' to a stranger
+named Robert Armathwaite, that we were indirectly bringing about the
+marriage of Meg Garth to Sir Robert Dalrymple?"
+
+"Well, I didn't, for one!" said the son gloomily.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+
+_THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS_
+
+A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.
+
+_THE RAINBOW TRAIL_
+
+The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.
+
+_DESERT GOLD_
+
+The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
+the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
+is the story's heroine.
+
+_RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE_
+
+A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.
+
+_THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN_
+
+This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
+known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
+and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."
+
+_THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT_
+
+A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
+New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
+become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem
+of this great story.
+
+_THE SHORT STOP_
+
+The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
+fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
+followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.
+
+_BETTY ZANE_
+
+This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.
+
+_THE LONE STAR RANGER_
+
+After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
+the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
+young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
+upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
+side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.
+
+_THE BORDER LEGION_
+
+Joan Handle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
+and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to
+health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an
+outlaw, observes Jim in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
+thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.
+
+_THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS._
+
+By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey
+
+The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+
+_"K."_
+
+Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+_THE MAN IN LOWER TEN._
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+_WHEN A MAN MARRIES._
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+_THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE._
+
+Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+_THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS._
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
+
+
+_SEVENTEEN._
+
+Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
+
+No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
+people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
+time when the reader was Seventeen.
+
+_PENROD._
+
+Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
+
+This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.
+
+_PENROD AND SAM._
+
+Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
+
+Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
+of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
+that have ever been written.
+
+_THE TURMOIL._
+
+Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
+
+Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
+father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
+fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.
+
+_THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA._
+
+Frontispiece.
+
+A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country
+editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
+interest.
+
+_THE FLIRT._
+
+Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
+
+The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
+drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
+to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
+suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES
+
+
+_MOTHER._
+
+Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
+
+This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality
+of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's
+experiences.
+
+_SATURDAY'S CHILD._
+
+Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.
+
+Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth
+and service--and works out a creditable salvation.
+
+_THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE._
+
+Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.
+
+The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be
+swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.
+
+_THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE._
+
+Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.
+
+How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.
+
+_THE HEART OF RACHAEL._
+
+Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
+
+Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these,
+there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most
+appealing characters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SEWELL FORD'S STORIES
+
+
+_SHORTY McCABE._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+A very humorous story, The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.
+
+_SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human
+nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."
+
+_SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to
+the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.
+
+_SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS._
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.
+
+_TORCHY._
+
+Illus, by Geo. Brehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg.
+
+A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the
+youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.
+
+_TRYING OUT TORCHY._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.
+
+_ON WITH TORCHY._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but
+that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart,
+which brings about many hilariously funny situations.
+
+_TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC._
+
+Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.
+
+_WILT THOU TORCHY._
+
+Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown.
+
+Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast,
+in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his
+friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place
+an engagement ring on Vee's finger.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
+
+WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
+
+
+_MAVERICKS._
+
+A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations
+are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
+of the sweetest love stories ever told.
+
+_A TEXAS RANGER._
+
+How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into
+the mesquite, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
+
+_WYOMING._
+
+In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
+
+_RIDGWAY OF MONTANA._
+
+The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and
+mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.
+
+_BUCKY O'CONNOR._
+
+Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.
+
+_CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT._
+
+A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter
+feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual
+woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.
+
+_BRAND BLOTTERS._
+
+A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE 'ROUND THE CORNER***
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