When the darkness came on, and just as the moon was rising, Lister and Bella proceeded to the plank bridge of the boundary channel. Before leaving Cyril on that afternoon, Durgo had intimated that he wished Miss Huxham to meet him at that hour and at that place, and of course Cyril came also. He had every trust in the negro, who had proved himself in every way to be a man of sterling worth. All the same, he did not intend to let Durgo meet Bella without being present. The black man was far too intimate with unseen forces, to please the white man, and it was necessary to protect Bella, if necessary.

"He might put you into a hypnotic trance," explained Cyril, who had described all that had taken place.

"I should not let him do that," said the girl decidedly.

Cyril shrugged his shoulders. "Durgo might not care if you liked it or not. He would hypnotize you, if he wished."

"No, Cyril, he could not do that unless I consented. My will is my own, and it is a strong one. I suppose," said Bella, after a pause, "that he made Granny feel those aches and pains by controlling her subjective mind."

Lister glanced sideways at her in surprise. "You seem to know all about it," he declared. "Where did you learn those terms?"

"At my school at Hampstead there was a girl who could hypnotise people. She read all manner of books about hypnotism, and talked about the subjective mind, although I don't know what it is. I can understand so much of Durgo's power over Granny. But that sending her spirit to the Manor is strange. I don't believe that he did."

"He must have done so," insisted Cyril, "as Durgo did not know that the Vands were leaving, and Granny distinctly stated that they were, in my hearing. Also, if we find that the jewels are in the small portmanteau, marked with the initials M. F., we can be certain that her spirit really did travel."

"'M. F.,'" repeated Bella, dreamily: "those are my father's initials."

"Maxwell Faith. So they are. Humph! There is something in this business after all, Bella."

"But do you really think anyone can separate the spirit from the body?"

Lister reflected. "I don't see why not. After all, as St. Paul says, we are composed of spirit, soul and body, so in certain cases the one may become detached from the other. I remember" – he looked thoughtfully up to the cloudy sky – "I remember reading in some magazine of a boat-load of people being saved, owing to one of them transferring his spirit to a passing ship, and leaving written instructions in the cabin where the ship was to steer to."

"Oh, Cyril, that's impossible."

"My dear," he said drily, "you can see the log of that very ship, containing an account of the incident, at Somerset House. However, we have no time to discuss these matters further. Yonder is Durgo by the bridge. I want to know why he asked you to meet him here. Such a night, too" – Cyril shivered – "quite a change. I feel cold."

"So do I. It will rain, Cyril. Look at that heavy bank of clouds behind which the moon is hiding. And oh, how dark it is!"

It certainly was dark, and the two came very near Durgo before they saw him. The sky was heavy with gloomy clouds, and undoubtedly there promised to be rain before midnight. Durgo, wrapped in a heavy military cloak, stood sentinel by the plank bridge. When the lovers came up he led them across to the other side, and when they stood on Bleacres he used his great strength to rip up a couple of planks.

"There!" said the negro, flinging these into the standing corn, "they will not be able to get their boxes across, even if they can cross themselves."

"Are you talking of the Vands?" asked Bella quickly.

"Yes; they are still at the Manor-house. Look!"

He pointed through the gloom, and they saw two or three windows of the old house lighted up brilliantly. Across other windows occasionally flitted more lights. Apparently Mrs. Vand was anxiously trying to impress the neighbours at least, such as might be abroad on this night – that she and her husband were ostentatiously at home. Durgo laughed grimly.

"They have quite an eye for dramatic effect," he said in his guttural voice, and very contemptuously. "Well, they shall have all the drama they want to-night, and more."

"Durgo," Bella spoke in an alarmed tone, "you won't hurt them?"

"Not if I can help it."

Cyril interposed imperiously. "I shall not be a party to the breaking of the law," he said with sharpness, "nor will I allow Bella to – "

"Cyril Lister," interrupted the negro, turning on him and addressing him by his full name, as was his odd way; "if I could bring the police on the scene I would do so. But you know, as I do, that we have no proofs save those of the unseen, which would not be accepted in a court of law, to prove that the two are guilty of murder – of a double murder for all I know."

"A double murder!" echoed Bella, drawing closer to her lover.

"Yes. Edwin Lister, my master, has disappeared, and Huxham is dead. The old sailor, certainly, may have killed my master, but on the other hand, as I believe, Vand murdered Huxham, and probably murdered Edwin Lister also. Howsoever this may be, we can prove neither murder, so it is not advisable to bring the police into the matter.

"It would be safer," said Cyril uneasily. He feared lest Durgo's barbaric instincts should be aroused against the couple at the Manor-house.

"It would not be safer," retorted the negro. "While the police were debating and searching, the Vands would be getting out of the kingdom, and we could not stop them. Besides, they have the jewels. I am certain of that from what Granny Tunks saw when I loosened her spirit. Once the Vands got news of the police being on their track they would hide those jewels, and we should never find them. I want those jewels for you, Miss Huxham, as, before I leave England, I wish to see you happily married to Cyril Lister here. It is the least that I can do for his father's son."

"But if my father is alive and has the jewels?" asked Cyril doubtfully.

"That will make a difference," assented Durgo, "although I daresay that Edwin Lister will not mind returning the jewels. We can arrange our funds for the expedition in another way. But I fear," he added in gloomy tones, "that my master is dead. If so, I can only avenge him."

"But with your occult powers, can't you learn if my father is dead or alive?"

"No," said Durgo very decidedly. "You forget that on the side of the unseen are mighty powers who have to be obeyed. I can do much, but not all, and for some reason I am not permitted to know the truth about my master. Sooner or later I shall understand about this. What we have to do at the present time is to prevent the Vands from escaping. Will you both help?"

"Yes," said Bella, anticipating Cyril; "that is if you don't intend violence."

"Be comforted," said Durgo ironically; "be comforted, missy. I have no wish to put a rope round my neck. I simply mean to force these devils to give up the jewels, and to solve so much of this mystery as they know. When I regain the jewels and know what has become of my master, I shall let them go, or if you like I shall hand them over to the police. But time presses," added Durgo impatiently, "and at any time the two may come along on their way to freedom. Will you help?"

"Yes," said Cyril simply. "What do you want us to do?"

"Missy" – Durgo turned to the girl – "can you work that search-light?"

Bella nodded. "For an evening's amusement my father – I mean Captain Huxham – once showed me how to manipulate it."

"Well it is in good order, as we know that Vand used it last night. You can get into the house by the secret passage and watch for the going out of our two friends. Then turn on the search-light and use it as a pointer."

"I can use the search-light, and I daresay it is in order since Henry Vand used it last night," said Bella quickly; "also I can get to the upper part of the house and on to the roof, through a kind of well which runs from the lower to the higher secret passage. But what do you mean by my using the light as a pointer?"

"Direct the ray on to Vand and his wife; they may come down this path, or they may try and escape in another way. But if you bend the ray of the search-light to where they are, I'll be able to catch them. Use the ray as a finger, as it were."

Bella nodded. "I see, and where will you be?"

"I shall hide in the corn somewhere or another," explained Durgo. "I don't know where, as I can't be sure how Vand and his wife intend to escape."

"They may take the boat," suggested Cyril, "and that is tied up some distance yonder. I believe they will use the boat."

"No;" said Durgo shaking his head; "there is no place where they can row to, as this channel ends in mere swamps. All I can do is to walk here and there, and watch for the finger of the search-light."

"What am I to do?" asked Cyril anxiously; "go with Bella?"

"No you wait in Mrs. Tunk's hut. I daresay she is alone, as I asked her to send her grandson away to his gipsy caravan before I came. I shall walk down with you, while Miss Huxham goes to the Manor-house."

"I would rather go with Bella," objected the young man uneasily.

"I am quite safe," said Bella determinedly, "and if you came, Cyril, there would be no room for us both in that narrow secret passage. I shall go by myself. Have no fear for me, dearest."

"One moment," said Durgo, as she was moving away. "Since you think that I may use violence, I may tell you, to quieten your minds, that the police are coming, after all."

"When did you tell the police to come? I thought you said – "

"Yes, yes!" interrupted the negro impatiently. "I know what I said. But I saw Inspector Inglis the other day when I went to Pierside, and informed him of my suspicions. I wired him to-day asking him to be with three or four men on the bank of the boundary channel opposite to Granny Tunks' hut."

"At what time?"

"About eleven, as I don't suppose that the Vands will try and escape until everyone in Marshely is asleep."

"Did you tell Inglis about the jewels?" asked Cyril.

"No, there is no need to tell more than is necessary. Besides, the police might take possession of the jewels, and I want them for Miss Huxham. All Inglis knows is that I suspect the Vands of a double murder, and that they intend to fly. He will come with his constables to arrest them if there is sufficient evidence."

"But I say, Durgo. I wanted you to do as you say, some time ago, and you talked of it not being advisable to bring the police into the matter. It seems that you have done so."

"It is a fact," said Durgo drily. "I didn't wish to tell you all my plans at once, as you and Miss Huxham here seemed to be so certain that I intended blue murder. If you had not been ready to trust me, I should not have changed my mind or have told you about the presence of the police. You look on me as a barbarous black man."

"We look on you as a very good friend," said Bella quickly, for the negro seemed hurt by their suspicions.

"There! there!" said Durgo gruffly, but bowing to the compliment. "Go to the Manor-house, Miss Huxham, and do what you can."

"Good-bye, Cyril," said Bella.

The young man ran after her as she moved up the corn path. "Don't go without a kiss, Bella," he said, catching her in his arms. "God keep you, my darling, and bring us safely through this dark business!"

"I'm not afraid, now that I know Inspector Inglis and his men will be on the spot," whispered Bella. "Good-bye! and good-bye! and good-bye!" and she kissed him between each word. In a few minutes she was swallowed up in the gloom, which was growing denser every minute.

"There will be a storm," prophesied Durgo, as the two men proceeded side by side to Mrs. Tunks' hut. "Hark!"

Just as he spoke there came a deep, hoarse roll of thunder, as though the artillery of heaven was being prepared to bombard the guilty pair in the old Manor-house. Durgo, with the instinct of a wild animal, raised his nose and sniffed. "I smell the rain. Glory! look at the lightning."

A vivid flash of forked lightning zig-zagged across the violent-hued sky, and again came the crash of thunder. Already the wind was rising, and the vast fields of corn were rustling and sighing and bending under its chill breath. "It is going to be a fierce night," said Durgo, dilating his nostrils to breathe the freshness of the air. "Do you remember in Macbeth, Cyril Lister, of the night of Duncan's murder?" and he quoted in his deep voice —

"– but this sore night,
Hath trifled former knowings."

Cyril looked at the strong black face, which showed clearly in the frequent flashes of lightning. "You are a strange man, Durgo. One would think that you were almost – " he hesitated.

"A white man," finished Durgo coolly. "No, my friend. I am an educated black man, and an ingrained savage." He spoke mockingly, then flung back his military cloak. "Look! Would a man be like this in your sober England?"

Cyril uttered an ejaculation, and had every reason to. In the bluish flare of the lightning he saw that Durgo had stripped himself to a loin-cloth, and that his powerful body was glistening with oil. The sole civilised things about him were canvas running-shoes which he wore, and the cloak. "Why have you stripped to the buff?" asked Cyril astonished.

"I may have hard work to catch those two this night," said Durgo, replacing his cloak, which made him look quite respectable, "so I wish to run as easily as possible."

"But there was no need to strip. The police won't be stripped."

"It's my way, and was the way of my fathers before me."

"In Africa, but not in England."

"Pooh!" was all that Durgo answered, and the two trudged along, bowing their heads against the now furiously driving wind. Shortly they came to Mrs. Tunks' hut, and the door was opened by the old woman herself.

"I felt that you were coming, master," she said, nodding. "Enter."

"No," said Durgo, pausing on the threshold of the ill-smelling room. "I have to go back to my post and watch for the coming of the Vands. Mr. Lister will remain here. Has your grandson gone?"

"No, lovey – I mean master," said Granny coaxingly. "He's ever so much better for the medicine you gave him, and is quite his own self. But I've sent the gel to get a boat to take him to the caravan. They've moved it down the channel to a meadow near the high road. The gel will bring the boat up here in an hour or so, and take Luke back with her; then he'll go on the merry road with her and my sister."

"You should have sent Luke away before," said Durgo frowning, "for he knew all about the murder, and has blackmailed the Vands. Inglis and his constables will be on the opposite bank to this place soon, and they may arrest him. I shan't say more than I can help, but get him away as soon as you can."

"Yes, master; yes, deary; yes, lovey!" croaked the old woman; and Durgo, with a significant glance at her and a nod to Cyril, turned away into the gloom.

"Won't you come in, lovey?" asked Mrs. Tunks coaxingly.

"No," said Cyril, who did not relish the malodorous hut; "I'll stay here and watch for the signal."

"What signal?" demanded the witch wife.

"Never mind. Go in!" commanded Lister, and settled himself under the eaves of the hut to keep guard.

Granny scowled at him as she obeyed. She did not mind cringing to Durgo, who was her master in the black art, but she objected to Cyril ordering her about. Had Granny really possessed the powers she laid claim to she would have blighted his fresh youth on the spot. As it was, she simply muttered a curse on what she regarded as his impertinence, and went indoors.

Cyril lighted his pipe and kept his eyes on the distant mass of the Manor-house, which was revealed blackly when the lightning flashed. Across the ocean of grain tore the furious wind, making it rock like an unquiet sea. Flash after flash darted across the livid sky, and every now and then came the sudden boom of the thunder. Hour upon hour passed until the watcher almost lost count of time. Within the cottage all was quiet, although at intervals he could hear the querulous voice of Mrs. Tunks shrilly scolding the Romany girl. Lister began to grow impatient, as he dreaded lest Bella should have fallen into the clutches of the Vands, who would certainly show her no mercy. It was in his mind to leave his post and see for himself what had occurred. Suddenly a long clear beam smote through the darkness of the night, and he sprang to his feet.

"They have left the house," muttered Cyril, thrusting his pipe into his pocket; "what's to be done now?"

The lightning was not quite so frequent, so the vivid beam of the search-light had full and fair play. But as the lightning ceased and the thunder became silent, a deluge of rain descended on the thirsty earth. On its strong wings the wind brought the rain, and a tropical down-pour almost blotted out the haggard moon, which now showed herself between driving clouds. But through the steady beam of the search-light could be seen the straight arrows of the rain, and the vast corn-fields hissed as the heavy drops descended. Here and there swung the ray of light, evidently looking for the fugitives, but as it did not come to rest, Cyril guessed that Bella had not yet descried the flying couple. But the rain was so incessant, and the wind so strong, that he was angered to think how Bella, on the high altitude of the quarter deck, was exposed to its fury.

Suddenly, as sometimes happens in furious storms, there came a lull both in the wind and the rain. A perfect silence ensued, and Cyril straining his ears, heard the soft dip of oars. As he peered towards the black gulf of the water-way running past the hut, the ray from the Manor-house became steady, and the finger of light pointed straight to the boundary channel. Cyril heard a wild shriek and ran down to the bank. Coming along the stream he saw a light boat, and in it Mrs. Vand huddled up at the end in her shawl. Vand himself was rowing with great care: but when the beam revealed their doings he lost all caution and rowed with desperation. Again came a drench of rain, almost blotting out the landscape, but the ray of light still picked out the guilty couple, following the course of the boat steadily, like an avenging angel's sword.

"Row, Henry, row hard!" shrieked Mrs. Vand, crouching in the stern of the boat and steering down the narrow channel as best she could, "We'll soon be safe. Row hard, dear! row hard!"

"Stop!" cried Cyril from the bank. "Mrs. Vand, you must wait here until the police come. Stop!"

"The police!" yelled the terrified woman, and her face was pearly white in the brilliant search-light. "Row, Henry; don't stop!"

Lister whipped out a revolver, with which he had been careful to provide himself. "If you don't stop, Vand, I shall shoot," and he levelled it.

But the cripple was too desperate to obey. He bent again to the oars and brought the shallop sweeping right under Cyril's feet. Then, before the young man could conjecture what he intended to do, he stood up in the rocking boat and swung up an oar with the evident intention of striking the man with the revolver into the water. Lister dodged skilfully as the oar came crashing viciously past his ear, and fired at random.

Mrs. Vand shrieked, her husband cursed, as the shot rang out. There came an answering cry from the near distance, and into the glare of the search-light bounded Durgo, naked save for his loin-cloth, black as the pit and furious as the devil who lives therein. Showing his white teeth like those of a wild animal, he raced up to the boat, and without a moment's hesitation flung himself on the figure of Vand as he stood up. The next moment the light craft was overturned, and Durgo, with the Vands, was struggling in the water. At the same moment the beam of the search-light suddenly vanished, leaving everyone in complete darkness. And the rain, driven by the triumphant wind, deluged the fields.

CHAPTER XXII
MRS. VAND'S REPENTANCE

Afterwards, Cyril, when questioned, could never clearly recollect what took place. Vand's oar had missed his head, but had struck his right shoulder with considerable force, so that his revolver shot had gone wide of its intended mark. When Bella shut off the beam – and Cyril wondered at the time why she did so – everything was dark and confused. What with the gloom, the rain and curses from Vand and Durgo, who were struggling in the water, and the shrieks of Mrs. Tunks, added to those of the half-drowned woman, Cyril felt his head whirl; also the blow from the oar had confused him, and he became sick and faint for the moment.

Granny Tunks with commendable forethought had brought out a bullseye lantern, which she must have stolen from some policeman. Flashing this on to the water-way, its light revealed Durgo and the cripple locked in a deadly embrace, and Mrs. Vand clinging to the bank with one hand while she clutched her shawl with the other. Cyril thereupon plunged down the incline and dragged the wretched woman out. Thinking she was about to be arrested she fought like a wild cat, and would have forced the half-dazed young man into the water again, but that Mrs. Tunks brought a chunk of wood with considerable force down on her head.

"What the devil did you do that for?" gasped Cyril furiously; "you've killed her, you old fool!"

"What do I care, deary?" cried Granny shrilly. "I'd kill them both if I could, for the master wants them killed, curse them both!" and she tottered down to the boundary channel, while Cyril carried the inanimate form of Mrs. Vand into the hut. Here he laid her on the floor, and hastily bidding the Romany girl attend her, hurried out again.

"They're dead, both of them! Oh, the master's dead!" yelled Granny Tunks.

With the lantern raised she stood on the bank peering into the water, but there was scarcely enough light to see what was taking place. All sounds had ceased, however, and only the drench of the rain could be heard. But even as Granny spoke, the Romany girl, anxious to see what was taking place, darted out of the cottage with a kind of torch, consisting of tow at the end of a stick steeped in kerosene. This flared redly and flung a crimson glare on the water-ways, and flung also its scarlet light on the bodies of Durgo and the Cripple. These lay half-in and half-out of the water, fast locked together in a death grip. There was no wound apparent on either body, so Cyril conjectured that in the struggle both had been drowned. Durgo's mighty arms were clasped tightly around the slender body of the cripple, but Vand's lean hands were clutching the negro's throat with fierce resolution. Both were quite dead, and even in death Cyril, although he tried, could not drag them apart. That so delicate a man as Vand could have contrived to drown the powerful negro seemed incredible to Cyril: but he soon saw that to kill Durgo the cripple had been willing to sacrifice himself. Probably he had dragged Durgo under water, and having a grip on the man's throat had squeezed the life out of him with a madman's despairing force. The weak had confounded the strong on this occasion in a most pronounced manner.

Meanwhile, Granny Tunks was bewailing the loss of her master, and the sharp-featured Romany girl echoed her cries. The screams of both brought out Luke, who appeared at the fire-lighted door of the hut looking much better than Cyril expected him to be, seeing how severe had been his last illness. He had something in his hands, and in the flaring light of the torch Lister saw that it was a somewhat small black bag. In a moment the young man guessed that Luke Tunks had been robbing the unconscious Mrs. Vand, as he remembered that she had kept a close grip of something under her shawl even while she was struggling with him.

"The jewels!" cried Cyril, too excited to be cautious, and leaped for the gipsy. "Give me the jewels."

"They're mine, blast you!" growled Luke, trying to evade him. "Missus gave 'em to me. Leave me alone. Granny, help me!"

Mrs. Tunks ran to the rescue, for the mention of jewels stirred her avaricious blood like the call of a trumpet. But already Cyril had plucked the black bag from the still weak gipsy, and Luke was not strong enough yet to make a fight for it. Aided vigorously by the Romany girl, the old woman would have closed in, but that a shout from the opposite bank made all turn. A dozen bullseyes were flashing over the stream. Cyril, gripping the bag, dashed the woman and the man aside and sprang to the verge of the channel.

"Is that you, Inspector Inglis?" he shouted.

"Yes; who are you?" came the sharp official tones.

"Cyril Lister. Come over yourself, or send some men. Vand and Durgo, the negro, are dead."

There was a confused muttering of surprise amongst the constables. Then came Inglis's clean-cut speech. "We heard a shot. Is – "

"No. Durgo struggled with Vand in the water-way, and they were both drowned. These gipsies here are making trouble, and Mrs. Vand is unconscious in the hut. Come across and take charge."

"How the devil can we get across here?" demanded Inglis. "It's twenty feet of water. Here you men, go round by the bridge."

"It's broken down," yelled Cyril.

"Who broke it?"

"Durgo. Let go, you old devil!" and Cyril swung Granny Tunks aside. The woman was still trying to clutch the jewels. "Inglis, you'll have to swim across. There's no other way."

No sooner had Lister suggested this expedient than Inglis obeyed it with the promptitude of an Englishman. Several heavy bodies were heard plunging into the water, and the bullseye lanterns were seen approaching like moving glow-worms as their swimming owners held them above their several heads. Had Granny Tunks been strong enough she would have attempted to prevent the landing of this hostile force; but Luke was useless and the Romany girl still more so. All she could do was to enter the fortress of her hut and bar the door, which she accordingly did, while Luke, mindful that he might be arrested for the murders as an accomplice after the fact, slunk hastily into the standing corn. Shortly Cyril was shaking hands with a dripping police inspector, and surrounded by six dripping constables. As the half dozen men and their officer were already wetted to the bone by incessant rain, the plunge into the channel did not trouble them in the least; indeed, they looked as though they rather enjoyed the adventure.

"But we may as well get under shelter to hear your story," suggested Inglis, and knocked loudly at the door of the hut. As Granny would not open, he simply turned to his men and gave a sharp order. "Break it down," said Inglis, and in less than a minute the constables were marching into the small apartment over the fallen door.

"I'll have the law on you for this!" screeched Mrs. Tunks, shaking her fist.

"You'll get a stomach-full of law, I have no doubt, before I have done with you," retorted Inglis. "Who is this?" and he stared at the inanimate form on the earthen floor amidst pools of water.

"Vand's wife, who was trying to escape with him," said Cyril. "She is insensible from a blow this old demon gave her."

"She'd have had you in the water else," hissed Mrs. Tunks scornfully.

"It wasn't unlikely, seeing how she fought. Have you any brandy?"

"A trifle for my spasms," admitted Granny sullenly.

"Then bring it out and revive Mrs. Vand," said Inglis impatiently. "It will be necessary for me to question her. Mr. Lister" – he brought his mouth very close to the young man's ear and spoke in a whisper – "is what that nigger told me quite true?"

"About Vand murdering Huxham? I believe it is, but I can't be sure. I got these, however, from Mrs. Vand. Don't let the old hag come near or she'll try and loot them."

"Loot what?" demanded Inglis, on seeing Cyril open the black bag, after he had motioned the constables to surround the table. "Oh, by Jupiter!"

His surprised ejaculations were echoed by his men, for Lister emptied on the table many glittering stones, cut and uncut. Chiefly they were diamonds, but also could be seen sapphires, rubies, pearls, and emeralds, all glowing with rainbow splendour in the fierce radiance of the bullseye lanterns. Mrs. Tunks whimpered like a beaten dog when she saw what she had missed, and tried to dart under a policeman's arm. "No you don't!" said the man gruffly, and gripped her lean wrist as her hand stretched greedily over the flaming heap of gems.

"Whose are these?" asked the inspector, quite awed by this wealth.

"Miss Huxham's," said Cyril, making a ready excuse until such time as the matter could be looked into, for he did not wish Inglis to take possession of Bella's fortune. "Her father left her these and the house to Mrs. Vand; but the woman withheld the jewels from her niece, and tried to-night to bolt with them. Then Luke Tunks attempted to steal them from her, while she lay unconscious here. Luckily I was enabled to rescue them, and now I can restore them to Miss Huxham."

"Where is Luke Tunks?" asked the inspector, while Cyril packed the gems in a chamois leather bag which he found in what Granny had called in her trance the portmanteau.

"Gone where you won't get him," grunted Mrs. Tunks, who was holding a glass of brandy to Mrs. Vand's white lips.

"You must get him, Inglis," said Cyril insistently. "He knows all about the murder of Huxham, and has been blackmailing the Vands."

"So that nigger said. By the way, we must see to the bodies." Inglis turned to the door, then looked back at Lister. "I wish I knew what this all meant, sir," he remarked, much puzzled.

"You shall know everything in due time, and a very queer story it is."

The inspector might have gone on asking questions, but at that moment Bella Huxham, breathless and wet, appeared in the doorway. In the semi-darkness she could scarcely see her lover, and called him. "Cyril! Cyril! what has happened?" she panted. "I have run all the way, and – who are these?"

"Inspector Inglis and constables," said that officer. "Where have you come from, miss?"

"From the Manor-house. I went to see my aunt, and saw her run away with her husband. Where is she? Where is he?"