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THAT MAINWARING AFFAIR

by

Maynard Barbour

CONTENTS

       I  THE MAINWARINGS
      II  FAIR OAKS
     III  THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF HUGH MAINWARING
      IV  A TERRIBLE AWAKENING
       V  IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES
      VI  THE INQUEST
     VII  A LITTLE ROYAL
    VIII  THE WEAVING OF THE WEB
      IX  TANGLED THREADS
       X  BEHIND THE SCENES
      XI  SKIRMISHING
     XII  X-RAYS
    XIII  THEORIES, WISE AND OTHERWISE
     XIV  THE EXIT OF SCOTT, THE SECRETARY
      XV  MUTUAL SURPRISES
     XVI  MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS
    XVII  LOVE FINDS A WAY
   XVIII  AN UNFORESEEN FOE
     XIX  MUTUAL RECOGNITIONS
      XX  OPENING FIRE
     XXI  THE LAST THROW
    XXII  SECESSION IN THE RANKS
   XXIII  FLOTSAM AND JETSAM
    XXIV  BETWEEN THE ACTS
     XXV  RUN TO COVER
    XXVI  MAINWARING VS. MAINWARING
   XXVII  THE SILENT WITNESS

CHAPTER I

THE MAINWARINGS

The fierce sunlight of a sultry afternoon in the early part of July
forced its way through every crevice and cranny of the closely drawn
shutters in the luxurious private offices of Mainwaring & Co., Stock
Brokers, and slender shafts of light, darting here and there, lent
a rich glow of color to the otherwise subdued tones of the elegant
apartments.

A glance at the four occupants of one of these rooms, who had
disposed themselves in various attitudes according to their
individual inclinations, revealed the fact that three out of the
four were Englishmen, while the fourth might have been denominated
as a typical American from the professional class.  Of rather
slender form, with a face of rare sensitiveness and delicacy, and
restless, penetrating eyes, his every movement indicated energy and
alertness.  On the present occasion he had little to say, but was
engaged in listening attentively to the conversation of the others.

Beside a rosewood desk, whose belongings, arranged with mathematical
precision, indicated the methodical business habits of its owner,
sat Hugh Mainwaring, senior member of the firm of Mainwaring & Co.,
a man approaching his fiftieth birthday.  His dress and manners,
less pronouncedly English than those of the remaining two, betokened
the polished man of the world as well as the shrewd financier.  He
wore an elegant business suit and his linen was immaculate; his
hair, dark and slightly tinged with gray, was closely cut; his
smoothly shaven face, less florid than those of his companions,
was particularly noticeable on account of a pair of dark gray
eyes, cold and calculating, and which had at times a steel-like
glitter.  Though an attractive face, it was not altogether pleasing;
it was too sensuous, and indicated stubbornness and self-will rather
than firmness or strength.

Half reclining upon a couch on the opposite side of the room, in an
attitude more comfortable than graceful, leisurely smoking a fine
Havana, was Ralph Mainwaring, of London, a cousin of the New York
broker, who, at the invitation of the latter, was paying his first
visit to the great western metropolis.  Between the two cousins
there were few points of resemblance.  Both had the same cold,
calculating gaze, which made one, subjected to its scrutiny, feel
that he was being mentally weighed and measured and would, in all
probability, be found lacking; but the Londoner possessed a more
phlegmatic temperament.  A year or two his cousin's junior, he
looked considerably younger; as his hair and heavy English side
whiskers were unmixed with gray and he was inclined to stoutness.

Seated near him, in an immense arm-chair which he filled admirably,
was William Mainwaring Thornton, of London, also a guest of Hugh
Mainwaring and distantly connected with the two cousins.  He was
the youngest of the three Englishmen and the embodiment of
geniality.  He was a blond of the purest type, and his beard,
parted in the centre, was brushed back in two wavy, silken masses,
while his clear blue eyes, beaming with kindliness and good-humor,
had the frankness of a child's.

Hugh Mainwaring, the sole heir to the family estate, soon after
the death of his father, some twenty-five years previous to this
time, became weary of the monotony of his English homelife, and,
resolved upon making his permanent home in one of the large eastern
cities of the United States and embarking upon the uncertain and
treacherous seas of speculation in the western world, had sold the
estate which for a number of generations had been in the possession
of the Mainwarings, and had come to America.  In addition to his
heavy capital, he had invested a large amount of keen business tact
and ability; his venture had met with almost phenomenal success and
he had acquired immense wealth besides his inherited fortune.

His more conservative cousin, Ralph Mainwaring, while never quite
forgiving him for having disposed of the estate, had, nevertheless,
with the shrewdness and foresight for which his family were noted,
given to his only son the name of Hugh Mainwaring, confident that
his American-English cousin would never marry, and hoping thereby
to win back the old Mainwaring estate into his own line of the
family.  His bit of strategy had succeeded; and now, after more
than twenty years, his foresight and worldly wisdom were about to
be rewarded, for the occasion of this reunion between the
long-separated cousins was the celebration of the rapidly
approaching fiftieth birthday of Hugh Mainwaring, at which time
Hugh Mainwaring, Jr., would attain his majority, and in recognition
of that happy event the New York millionaire broker had announced
his intention of making his will in favor of his namesake, and on
that day formally declaring him his lawful heir.

This had been the object of the conference in the private office
of Hugh Mainwaring, and now that it was over and all necessary
arrangements had been made, that gentleman turned from his desk
with a sigh of relief.

"I am heartily glad that this business is over," he said,
addressing his guests; "it has been on my mind for some time, and
I have consulted with Mr. Whitney about it," with a slight nod
towards the fourth gentleman, who was his attorney and legal adviser.
"We have both felt that it should have been attended to before this;
and yet, as I considered this would be the most fitting time to make
a final adjustment of affairs, I have on that account delayed
longer than I otherwise would have done.  Now everything is arranged
in a manner satisfactory, I trust, to all parties immediately
concerned, and nothing remains but to draw up and execute the papers,
which will be done to-morrow."

"You are not then troubled with any unpleasant superstitions
regarding the making of a will?" commented Mr. Thornton.

"No," replied the other, slowly.  "I am not of the opinion that it
will hasten my exit from this world; but even if it did, I would
have the satisfaction of knowing that my own wishes would be
carried out in the settlement of my estate, and that no one would
derive any benefit from my demise excepting those whom I consider
legally entitled thereto."

Ralph Mainwaring looked curiously at his cousin through half-closed
eyes.

"I suppose," he remarked, very deliberately, "that even in case
there were no will the property would revert to our branch of the
family; we are the nearest of kin, you know."

"Yes, I know your family would be considered the lawful heirs,"
Hugh Mainwaring replied, while he and Mr. Whitney exchanged glances;
"but this is not England; here any common adventurer might come
forward with some pretended claim against the estate, and I prefer
to see affairs definitely settled in my own way."

"Of course," responded the other, resuming his cigar.  "Well,
speaking for myself, I am more than willing to relinquish any share
I might have had for the boy's sake, and I don't suppose, Thornton,
that you have any objections to raise on Edith's account."

"Oh, no, no," replied that gentleman, with a pleasant laugh.  "I
never considered Hugh a bad son-in-law to begin with, but I'll admit
he is a little more attractive now than ever."

The little clock on the marble mantel chimed the hour of four,
causing a general movement of surprise.  "'Pon my soul! had no idea
it was that late," exclaimed Mr. Thornton, taking out his watch,
while Hugh Mainwaring, touching an electric button, replied,--

"This business has detained us much longer than I anticipated.  I
will give some instructions to the head clerk, and we will leave at
once."

He had scarcely finished speaking, when a door opened noiselessly
and a middle-aged man appeared.

"Parsons," said Mr. Mainwaring, addressing him in quick, incisive
tones, "I am going out to Fair Oaks, and probably shall not be at
the office for two or three days, unless something of unusual
importance should demand my presence.  Refer all business callers
to Mr. Elliott or Mr. Chittenden.  Any personal calls, if specially
important, just say that I can be found at Fair Oaks."

Parsons bowed gravely, and after a few further instructions retired.

"Now, Mr. Whitney," Hugh Mainwaring continued, at the same time
touching another electric button, "you, of course, will be one of
our party at Fair Oaks; my secretary will accompany us, and the
papers will be drawn up to-morrow in my private library, after which
you will do us the honor to join us in the pleasures of the following
day."

"I am at your service, Mr. Mainwaring," responded the attorney; "but,"
he added, in low tones, intended only for Hugh Mainwaring's ear, but
which were heard distinctly by the private secretary, now standing
beside the desk, "would it not be better to draw up the will here,
in your private office?  My presence at the house on the present
occasion might attract attention and arouse some suspicions as to
your intentions."

"That makes no difference," replied Hugh Mainwaring, quickly, but
also speaking in a low tone; "my private papers are all at the house,
and I choose that this business shall be conducted there.  I believe
that I am master in my own house yet."

Mr. Whitney bowed in acquiescence, and Hugh Mainwaring turned to
his secretary,--

"Mr. Scott, just close up everything in the office as quickly as
possible and get ready to accompany me to Fair Oaks; I shall need
you there for two or three days."

It was not the first time the private secretary had accompanied Mr.
Mainwaring to his elegant suburban residence, and he understood
perfectly what was expected of him, and immediately withdrew to
make his preparations as expeditiously as possible.

For some reason, which Hugh Mainwaring had never stopped to explain
even to himself, he always accorded to his private secretary much
more respect and consideration than to any one of his other numerous
employees.

Harry Scott was not only a young man of superior education and good
breeding, but what particularly impressed his employer in his favor
was a certain natural reserve which caused him to hold himself aloof
from his associates in the offices of Mainwaring & Co., and an innate
refinement and delicacy which kept him, under all circumstances,
from any gaucherie on the one hand, or undue familiarity on the
other; he was always respectful but never servile.  He had been in
the employ of Hugh Mainwaring for a little more than a year, and,
having frequently accompanied him to Fair Oaks to remain for a day
or two, was, consequently, quite familiar with the house and grounds.

As he re-entered the room, having exchanged his business suit for
one more suitable to the occasion, there was not one present but
what instinctively, though perhaps unconsciously, recognized in him
a true gentleman and treated him as such.  Tall, with a splendid
physique, finely shaped head, dark hair, and eyes of peculiar beauty,
he was far from being the least attractive member of the party which,
a few moments later, entered the Mainwaring carriage, with its coat
of arms, and rolled away in the direction of Fair Oaks.

CHAPTER II

FAIR OAKS

The home of Hugh Mainwaring was one of many palatial suburban
residences situated on a beautiful avenue running in a northerly
direction from the city, but it had not been for so many years in
his possession without acquiring some of the characteristics of its
owner, which gave it an individuality quite distinct from its elegant
neighbors.  It had originally belonged to one of the oldest and
wealthiest families in the county, for a strictly modern house,
without a vestige of antiqueness lingering in its halls and with no
faint aroma of bygone days pervading its atmosphere, would have been
entirely too plebeian to suit the tastes of Hugh Mainwaring.

From the street to the main entrance a broad driveway wound beneath
the interlacing boughs of a double line of giant oaks, from which
the place had derived its name.  Beautiful grounds extended in every
direction, and in the rear of the mansion sloped gently to the edge
of a small lake.  Facing the west was the main entrance to the house,
which was nearly surrounded by a broad veranda, commanding a fine
view, not only of the grounds and immediately surrounding country,
but also of the Hudson River, not far distant.

The southwestern portion of the building contained the private rooms
of Hugh Mainwaring, including what was known as the "tower," and had
been added by him soon after he had taken possession of the place.
This part of the house was as far removed as possible from the large
reception-rooms, and the apartments on the second floor comprised
the suite occupied by Mr. Mainwaring.  The first of these rooms,
semi-octagonal in form, constituted his private library, and its
elegant furnishings and costly volumes, lining the walls from floor
to ceiling, bespoke the wealth and taste of the owner.  Across the
southwestern side of this room heavy portieres partially concealed
the entrance to what Mr. Mainwaring denominated his "sanctum
sanctorum," the room in the tower.  This was small, of circular form,
and contained an immense desk, one or two revolving bookcases, and
a large safe, which held his private papers and, it was rumored, the
old Mainwaring jewels.  Back of the library was a smoking-room, and
in the rear of that Mr. Mainwaring's dressing-rooms and sleeping
apartments.

This suite of rooms was connected with the remainder of the building
by a long corridor extending from the main hall, but there was on
the south side of the house an entrance and stairway leading directly
to these rooms, the upper hall opening into the library and
smoking-room.  From this southern entrance a gravelled walk led
between lines of shrubbery to a fine grove, which extended back
and downward to the western shore of the small lake already mentioned.

But the especially distinguishing characteristic of Fair Oaks since
coming into the possession of Hugh Mainwaring was the general air of
exclusion pervading the entire place.  The servants, with the
exception of "Uncle Mose," the colored man having charge of the
grounds, were imported,--the head cook being a Frenchman, the
others either English or Irish, and, from butler to chambermaid, one
and all seemed to have acquired the reserve which characterized
their employer.

Comparatively few servants were employed and few were needed, for
never, until the present occasion, had Fair Oaks been thrown open
to guests.  Occasionally Mr. Mainwaring brought out from the city
two or three gentleman friends, whom he entertained in royal
fashion.  Sometimes these guests were accompanied by their wives,
but such instances were extremely rare, as ladies were seldom seen
at Fair Oaks.

In the entertainment of these occasional guests Mr. Mainwaring was
frequently assisted by Mrs. LaGrange, known as his housekeeper, but
in reality holding a position much more advanced than is usually
implied by that term.  Among those who had been personally
entertained by Mrs. LaGrange, this fact, of itself, excited little
comment; it being evident that she was as familiar with the
fashionable world as was their host himself, but surrounding her was
the same dim haze of mystery that seemed to envelop the entire place,
impalpable, but thus far impenetrable.

She had come to Fair Oaks some fifteen years previous to this time,
dressed in deep mourning, accompanied by her infant son, about three
years of age, and it was generally understood that she was distantly
related to Mr. Mainwaring.  She was a strikingly handsome woman,
with that type of physical beauty which commands admiration, rather
than winning it; tall, with superb form and carriage, rich olive
skin, large dark eyes, brilliant as diamonds and as cold, but which
could become luminous with tenderness or fiery with passion, as
occasion required.  To those whom she sought to entertain she could
be extremely charming, but to a few even of these, gifted with deeper
insight than the others, it seemed that beneath that fascinating
manner was a dangerous nature, a will that would brook no restraint,
that never would be thwarted; and that this was, in reality, the
power which dominated Fair Oaks.

After years of mysterious seclusion, however, the beautiful home of
Hugh Mainwaring, while maintaining its usual reserve towards its
neighbors, had thrown open its doors to guests from across the water;
and on the particular afternoon of the conference in the private
offices of Mainwaring & Co., there might have been seen on one of
the upper balconies of the mansion at Fair Oaks a group of five
English ladies, engaged in a discussion of their first impressions
regarding their host and his American home.  The group consisted of
Mrs. Ralph Mainwaring and her daughter Isabel; Miss Edith Thornton,
the daughter of William Mainwaring Thornton and the fiancee of Hugh
Mainwaring, Jr.; Miss Winifred Carleton, a cousin of Miss Thornton;
and Mrs. Hogarth, the chaperone of the last named young ladies.

Understanding, as they did, the occasion of this their first visit
to the western world, and being personally interested in the happy
event so soon to be celebrated, they naturally felt great interest
in their new surroundings.  The young ladies were especially
enthusiastic in their expressions of admiration of the house and
grounds, while Mrs. Mainwaring, of even more phlegmatic temperament
than her husband, remarked that it was a fine old place, really much
finer than she expected to see, which was quite an admission on her
part.

"It is just as lovely as it can be!" said Winifred Carleton, coming
from the railing, where she had been watching the broad expanse of
ocean visible in the distance, and seating herself on a divan beside
her cousin.  "I do think, Edith, you are the most fortunate girl in
the world, and I congratulate you with all my heart."

"Thank you, Winnie," replied Miss Thornton, a pronounced blonde
like her father, with large, childlike blue eyes; "but it will be
yours to enjoy as much as mine, for you will always be with me; at
least, till you are married, you know."

"That is a very reckless declaration on your part, for I am likely
never to marry," responded Miss Carleton, lightly.  She was an
orphan and an heiress, but had a home in the family of William
Mainwaring Thornton, who was her uncle and guardian.

Isabel Mainwaring, reclining in a hammock near Miss Thornton, smiled
languidly.  She was tall, with dark hair and the Mainwaring cold,
gray eyes.  "You seem to ignore the fact," she said, "that our cousin
is likely to live in the exclusive enjoyment of his home for many
years to come."

"You mercenary wretch!" retorted Miss Carleton; "are you already
counting the years before Mr. Mainwaring's death?"

"Isabel, I am shocked!" exclaimed Mrs. Mainwaring.

"I don't know why," replied that young lady, coolly.  "I was only
thinking, mamma; and one is not always accountable for one's
thoughts, you know."

"But," said Miss Thornton, wonderingly, raising her large eyes, full
of inquiry, to Mrs. Mainwaring, "after our cousin has announced his
intention of making Hugh his heir, don't you think he will be likely
to extend other invitations to visit Fair Oaks?"

"Undoubtedly, my dear," replied Mrs. Mainwaring, "there will probably
be an exchange of courtesies between the two branches of the family
from this time.  Though I must say," she added, in a lower tone, and
turning to Mrs. Hogarth, "I do not know that I, for one, will be
particularly anxious to repeat my visit when this celebration is once
over.  So far as I can judge, there seems to be no society here.
Wilson has learned from the servants that Mr. Mainwaring lives very
quietly, in fact, receives no company whatever; and, I may be
mistaken, but it certainly seems to me that this Mrs. LaGrange
occupies rather an anomalous position.  She is here as his housekeeper,
a servant, yet she entertains his guests, and her manners are anything
but those of a servant."

"Why shouldn't she, mamma?" inquired Isabel, rather abruptly.  "Cousin
Hugh has never married,--which is a very good thing for us, by the
way,--and who would help him entertain if his housekeeper did not?"

"It is not her position to which I object so much," remarked Mrs.
Hogarth, quietly, "though I admit it seems rather peculiar, but there
is something about her own personality that impresses me very
unfavorably."

"In your opinion, then, she is not a proper person," said Mrs.
Mainwaring, who was fond of jumping at conclusions; "well, I quite
agree with you."

"No," said Mrs. Hogarth, with a smile, "I have not yet formed so
decided an opinion as that.  I am not prepared to say that she is
a bad woman, but I believe she is a very dangerous woman."

"Dear Mrs. Hogarth, how mercilessly you always scatter my fancies
to the winds!" exclaimed Miss Thornton; "until this moment I admired
Mrs. LaGrange very much."

"I did not," said Miss Carleton, quickly; "from my first glimpse of
her she has seemed to me like a malign presence about the place, a
veritable serpent in this beautiful Eden!"

"Well," said Isabel Mainwaring, with a slight shrug, "I see no
reason for any concern regarding Mrs. LaGrange, whatever she may be.
I don't suppose she will be entailed upon Hugh with the property;
and I only hope that before long we can buy back the old Mainwaring
estate into our own branch of the family."

"That is just what your father intends to have done whenever the
property comes into Hugh's possession," replied Mrs. Mainwaring,
and was about to say something further, when a musical whistle
attracted the attention of the ladies, and, looking over the
balcony railing, they saw Hugh Mainwaring, Jr., approaching the
house, on his return from a day's fishing, accompanied by Walter
LaGrange, a young sophomore, home on his vacation.

The former was a typical young Englishman, with a frank, pleasant
countenance.  The latter, while inheriting his mother's beauty and
resembling her in a marked degree, yet betrayed in his face a
weakness which indicated that, lacking ability to plan and execute
for himself, he would become a ready tool to aid in carrying out the
designs of others.

The ladies, having discovered the hour to be much later than they
supposed, and knowing that the gentlemen would soon return from the
city, speedily adjourned to their dressing-rooms to prepare for
dinner.

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF HUGH MAINWARING

Immediately after breakfast the following morning, Hugh Mainwaring,
having excused himself to his guests, retired to his private
library, in company with his secretary and Mr. Whitney, his attorney.
A number of fine saddle horses having been brought around from the
stables, the young people cantered gayly down the oak-lined avenue,
intent upon a morning ride, their voices echoing musically through
the grounds.  The elderly people, after a short chat, gradually
dispersed.  Mrs. Mainwaring retired to her room for her accustomed
morning nap; Mrs. Hogarth sought the large library and was soon
absorbed in the works of her favorite author, while Ralph Mainwaring
and Mr. Thornton strolled up and down the gravelled walks, enjoying
their cigars.

"This is a very good bit of property," remarked Mr. Mainwaring at
length, running his eye with cold scrutiny over the mansion and
grounds; "taking into consideration the stocks and bonds and various
business interests that will go with it, it will make a fine windfall
for the boy."

"That it will, and Hugh certainly is a lucky dog!" responded Mr.
Thornton, "but you seem to have some definite knowledge regarding
our cousin's finances; has he given you any idea as to what he is
really worth?"

"He?  Not a word."  Then noting an expression of surprise on his
companion's face, Mr. Mainwaring continued.  "I have a number of
business acquaintances on this side the water, and you may rest
assured I have kept myself well posted as to the way things were
going all these years.  I have had something of this kind in view
all the time."

"I might have known it," replied Mr. Thornton, with an amused
smile.  "I never yet saw a Mainwaring who did not understand how
to feather his own nest.  Well, as you say, it is a fine piece of
property; but, do you know, Mainwaring, it strikes me that the old
boy seems a bit anxious to get it disposed of according to his own
liking as quickly as possible."

"It does look that way," the other acknowledged.

"Well, now, doesn't that seem a little peculiar, when, with no
direct heirs that we know of, the property would in any case revert
to your family?"

Ralph Mainwaring puffed in silence for a few moments, then removing
his cigar and slowing knocking off the ashes, he replied very
deliberately,--

"It is my opinion that he and that attorney of his are aware of some
possible claimants, of whom we know nothing."

"That is my idea exactly," said Mr. Thornton; "and, don't you know,
it has occurred to me that possibly, unknown to us, Harold Mainwaring
may have left a child, whose existence is known to Hugh."

"That would cut no figure in this case," Mr. Mainwaring answered,
quickly.  "Even had there been a living child,--which there was
not,--he could make no claim whatever, for Harold was disinherited
by his father's will."

"Yes, I know the old gentleman disinherited Harold, but would his
heirs have no claim?"

"Not under that will.  I was present when it was read, and I remember
it debarred 'both him and his heirs, forever.'"

"Poor Harold!" said Mr. Thornton, after a moment's silence; "he was
the elder son, was he not?"

"Yes, and his father's favorite.  It broke the old man's heart to
disinherit him.  He failed rapidly after that occurred, and he never
was the same towards Hugh.  I always thought that accounted for
Hugh's selling the old place as he did; it had too many unpleasant
memories."

"Harold died soon after that unfortunate marriage, I believe."

"Yes; he learned too late the character of the woman he had married,
and after the death of their only child, he left her, and a few years
later was lost at sea."

"Well," continued Mr. Thornton, after a pause, "have you the remotest
idea as to who these possible claimants against the property may be?"

"Only the merest suspicion, as yet too vague even to mention; but I
think a day or two will probably enable me to determine whether I am
correct or not."

At that moment, Harry Scott, the private secretary, appeared, with a
message to the gentlemen from Hugh Mainwaring, to the effect that he
would like to have them join himself and Mr. Whitney in his library.

As they passed around to the southern entrance with the secretary,
they did not observe a closed carriage coming swiftly up the
driveway, nor a tall, slender man, with cadaverous features and
sharp, peering eyes, who alighted and hastily rang for admittance.
But two hours later, as Mr. Thornton was descending the winding
stairway in the main hall, he caught a glimpse of the strange
caller, just taking his departure.  The stranger, hearing footsteps,
turned towards Mr. Thornton, and for an instant their eyes met.
There was a mutual recognition; astonishment and scorn were written
on Mr. Thornton's face, while the stranger cowed visibly and, with
a fawning, cringing bow, made as speedy an exit as possible.

At luncheon that day both Hugh Mainwaring and a number of his guests
seemed rather preoccupied, and the meal passed in unusual silence.
Mrs. LaGrange exerted herself to be particularly entertaining to Mr.
Whitney, but he, though courteously responding to her overtures, made
no effort to continue the conversation.  Even the genial Mr. Thornton
was in so abstracted a mood that his daughter at last rallied him on
his appearance, whereupon he turned somewhat abruptly to his host
with the inquiry,--

"Are you personally acquainted with Richard Hobson?"

For an instant, Hugh Mainwaring seemed confused, and Mr. Whitney,
always on the alert, noted a peculiar expression flash across the
face of Mrs. LaGrange, and was also conscious of an almost
imperceptible start on the part of the young secretary seated near
him.

Mr. Mainwaring quickly recovered himself and replied, deliberately,
"Richard Hobson, the attorney?  I believe I met him once or twice,
years ago, in London, but I cannot claim any acquaintance with him."

"Dick Hobson does not deserve the name of attorney," remarked Ralph
Mainwaring; "he is a shyster and a scoundrel."

"He certainly bears a hard reputation," rejoined Mr. Thornton; "and
I would not have mentioned his name, only that I met him here about
half an hour since, and that caused me to make the inquiry I did."

Hugh Mainwaring paled visibly, though he remained calm.  "Met him
here, in my house?  Impossible!" he exclaimed, at the same time
glancing towards the butler, but the face of that functionary was
as immobile as rock.  "I did not suppose the man was in this
country!"

"Oh, yes," replied Ralph Mainwaring; "he left England about two
years ago; he played one too many of his dirty games there and took
the first steamer for America, hoping, I suppose, to find a wider
sphere of action in this country."

"Possibly I may have been mistaken," remarked Mr. Thornton, quietly,
realizing that he had unconsciously touched an unpleasant chord,
"but the resemblance was certainly striking."

An awkward silence followed, broken by young Scott, who excused
himself on the plea of important work and returned to Mr.
Mainwaring's library, where he was soon joined by all the gentlemen
excepting young Mainwaring.  In the hall, Hugh Mainwaring paused for
a few words with the butler, and the attorney, passing at that
moment, caught the man's reply, given in a low tone,--

"No, sir; Mrs. LaGrange."

A little later, the last will and testament of Hugh Mainwaring was
signed by the testator, and duly attested by Ralph Mainwaring,
William Mainwaring Thornton, and William H. Whitney.  As the last
signature was completed, Hugh Mainwaring drew a heavy sigh, saying
in a low tone,--

"That is as I wished, my namesake is my heir;" then taking the
document, he placed it in the hands of his secretary, adding, "Lay
this for the present on my desk.  To-morrow I wish it to be read in
the presence of all the members of the family, after which, Mr.
Whitney, I desire to have it put in your possession for safe keeping
until it is needed; when that will be, no one can say;--it may be
sooner than we think."

A marked change had come over his manner since luncheon, and his
tones, even more than his words, made a deep impression on the mind
of every one present.  The shade of melancholy passed, however, and,
ringing the bell, Hugh Mainwaring ordered carriages for himself and
his guests for the afternoon and departed, leaving his secretary
to attend to some private work in the library.  Harry Scott's manner,
upon finding himself alone within the private rooms of Hugh
Mainwaring, betrayed intense excitement.  He pushed his work
impatiently from him and, rising, began to walk swiftly, though
noiselessly, back and forth, the entire length of the two apartments.
Twice he paused before the large desk, and taking therefrom the will,
already familiar to him, read its contents with burning eyes while
his face alternately flushed and paled.  Then folding and replacing
the document, he turned towards the safe, muttering,--

"It is no use.  I have searched there once before and could find
nothing."

Suddenly he exclaimed, "No one knows what may happen; this may be my
last opportunity!  I will search once more and leave not a corner
unexplored."

Having locked the library, he returned to the safe.  He knew the
combination, and soon the great doors swung open, revealing the
contents arranged with the precision for which Mr. Mainwaring was
noted in his business habits.  Conscious that he had abundance of
time for the work he had undertaken and that he was secure from
interruption, he began a careful and methodical search through all
the compartments.  Various private documents were examined and then
replaced in exactly their original position, but all seemed of no
avail.  He discovered no trace of that which he hoped to find.

At last he came to a metallic box, which he surmised, from its
weight and general appearance, contained the old family jewels.
Should he open that?  A moment's thought decided the question; he
would leave nothing unexplored.  Further search revealed the key
concealed in a tiny drawer.  He applied it to the lock; the cover
flew backward, and a dazzling light flashed into his face as a ray
of sunlight fell across his shoulder upon the superb gems, gleaming
and scintillating from the depths of their hiding-place.  But he
paid little heed to them, for, in a long and narrow receptacle within
one side of the box, his keen eye had discovered a paper, yellow and
musty with age, the sight of which thrilled him with hope.  He
quickly drew it forth, and a single glance at its title assured him
it was indeed the object of his search.  With a low cry of joy, he
locked and replaced the metallic box, and, opening the ancient
document, he eagerly scanned its contents, an expression of intense
satisfaction overspreading his features.

He was still perusing the paper when he heard footsteps approaching
the library through the long corridor, followed an instant later by a
knock.  Depositing the precious document safely within an inside
pocket, he swung the doors of the safe together, turning the handle
so as to lock it securely, and, crossing the library, unlocked and
opened the door.

The butler was standing there, and, handing Scott a card, said,
briefly,

"A gentleman on private business; must see Mr. Mainwaring or his
secretary at once."

Scott glanced at the card: it bore the name of "J. Henry Carruthers,"
with a London address, and underneath had been hastily pencilled
the word "Important."

"Show the gentleman up," he said.  The butler bowed and was gone,
and in an incredibly short time, while yet Scott's pulse throbbed
wildly from his recent discovery, the stranger entered the room.

He was a little above the average height, with a somewhat commanding
presence, rather pale face, dark moustache, and black curling hair.
He wore dark glasses, and was dressed in a tweed suit, slightly
travel-worn, but his manners were those of a gentleman.

"Mr. Scott, I believe," he said, addressing the secretary.

"That is my name, sir; please be seated.  What can I do for you, Mr.
Carruthers?"

"Will you inform me, Mr. Scott, of the earliest hour at which I can
see Mr. Mainwaring?  I called at his city office and was directed
here; but the butler states that Mr. Mainwaring is away from home, and
is unable to say when he will return, or how soon he would be at
liberty to see me."

"Mr. Mainwaring will probably return about five o'clock; but it is
rather difficult for me to state when you could see him, as he is
entertaining a number of guests, and it is doubtful if he would care
to attend to any business just at this time, unless it were of special
importance."

"My business with Mr. Mainwaring is of special importance," replied
the other; "and I would be very glad if he could give me a little
time to-morrow."

"Perhaps, if you would give me some intimation of its nature,"
Scott suggested, "Mr. Mainwaring might consent to make an appointment
for the following day.  I hardly think he would see you sooner.
To-morrow is his birthday, and, as it is to be celebrated by him and
his guests, it is doubtful whether he would attend to any business
on that day."

"Indeed!" said Mr. Carruthers, rising, while Scott was conscious of
a peculiar scrutiny fixed upon himself from behind those dark glasses;
"it had escaped my mind, but now I recall that Mr. Mainwaring is to
celebrate his birthday by making his young English cousin and namesake
his heir.  I certainly would not intrude at a time so inopportune."

The secretary started.  "I was not aware that Mr. Mainwaring's
intentions were generally known," he remarked.

"Perhaps not," replied the other, in a peculiar tone.  "I merely
heard it mentioned, and all parties have my congratulations and best
wishes.  Kindly say to Mr. Mainwaring that when the happy event is
over I hope he will give me his earliest consideration.  My address
for the present will be the Arlington House..  Do not take the
trouble to ring, I can find my way."

"You will find this way much shorter, sir," Scott replied, opening
the door into the southern hall.  Mr. Carruthers thanked him and,
with a profound bow, took his departure.

As the hour was late, Scott found it necessary to devote himself at
once to his work, and he had but just completed it when the sound
of wheels was heard outside, and a few moments later his employer
entered the room.

The latter studied Mr. Carruthers's card quite attentively, and
frowned upon learning that his intentions regarding the making of
his will had become known by outsiders, but he soon seemed to forget
the occurrence.  Soon all were gathered about the dinner-table, and
the evening passed very pleasantly.

When, at a late hour, Hugh Mainwaring, in the dimly-lighted veranda,
bade his guests good-night, he grasped the hand of his namesake and
said, in a tone remarkably tender,--

"Hugh, my boy, the distance is long between the twenty-first and the
fiftieth mile-stones on the journey of life.  Heaven grant, when you
shall have reached the latter, you may look back over a brighter
pathway than I do to-night!"

Then, as the young man passed, he murmured to himself "If I could
but have had just such a son as he!"

He did not see, though there was one who did, a woman's form glide
away in the dim light, her eyes gleaming with malignant fire.

CHAPTER IV

A TERRIBLE AWAKENING

For some time after his guests had retired, Hugh Mainwaring remained
outside, walking up and down in the starlight, apparently absorbed
in thought.  When at length he passed into the house, he met his
secretary coming out for a solitary smoke.

"Come to my library, Mr. Scott, before you retire for the night,"
said Mr. Mainwaring.

"At once, sir, if you wish," the secretary replied.

"No, there is no hurry; any time within an hour," and he passed
up-stairs.

Half an hour later Harry Scott passed down the corridor towards the
library, but paused on hearing an angry voice within, which he at
once recognized as Mrs. LaGrange's.

"Where would you be to-night?" she cried, "where would you have been
all these years, if I had but exposed your dishonesty and duplicity?
You defrauded your only brother during his lifetime; you have
persistently ignored your son, your own flesh and blood; and now you
would rob him, not only of his father's name, but of his father's
fortune,--cast him off with a mere pittance,--and put this stranger
in the place which is rightfully his, and wish that you had been
given such a son as he!  You are in my power, and you know it only
too well; and I will make you and your high-born, purse-proud family
rue this day's work."

Hugh Mainwaring's reply to this tirade was inaudible, and Scott,
feeling that he already had heard too much, withdrew, and continued
walking up and down the halls until the library door opened and Mrs.
LaGrange came out.  She swept past him in a towering rage, seeming
scarcely aware of his presence until, as he passed down the corridor
and entered the library, he was suddenly conscious that she had
turned and was watching him.

He found Mr. Mainwaring looking pale and fatigued.

"I will detain you but a moment, Mr. Scott," he said, speaking
wearily; "I have a few instructions I would like you to carry out
early in the morning; and I also want to say that I wish you to
consider yourself as one of my guests to-morrow, and join with us
in the festivities of the occasion."

Scott thanked his employer courteously, though there might have been
detected a shade of reserve in his manner, and, after receiving
brief directions for the following day, withdrew.

He went to his room, but not to sleep.  His mind was too full of
the events of the day just passed, as well as of the expected events
of the morrow.  His thoughts reverted to his discovery of the
afternoon, and, taking the shabby document from his pocket, he read
and re-read it carefully, his features betraying deep emotion.  What
should be done with it?  Should he let his employer know at once of
the proof which he now held against him?  Or should he hold it for a
few days and await developments?

It was nearly three o'clock when he was aroused from his abstraction
by a slight sound, as of stealthy footsteps in the rear of the house.
He listened intently for a moment, but hearing nothing further and
discovering the lateness of the hour, he hastily extinguished the
light and, too exhausted and weary to undress, threw himself as he
was upon a couch and was soon sleeping heavily.

The sun was shining brightly into his room, when Harry Scott was
awakened the next morning by a woman's scream, followed by cries and
sobs and a confused sound of running to and fro.  Almost before he
could collect his thoughts, he heard steps approaching his room,
and, rising, hastily exchanged the smoking-jacket in which he had
slept for a coat.  He had barely time to make the change when there
was a loud knock, and some one called his name in quick, sharp tones.

Opening the door, he saw Mr. Whitney standing before him, while in
the background servants were running in different directions,
wringing their bands and moaning and crying hysterically.

"Mr. Scott," said the attorney, in tones trembling with excitement,
"come to the tower-room at once. Mr. Mainwaring has been murdered!"

"Mr. Mainwaring murdered!" he exclaimed, reeling for an instant as
if from a blow.  "Great heavens! it cannot be possible!"

"It is terrible, but a fact, nevertheless," replied Mr. Whitney;
"he was murdered last night in his private rooms."

"How and when was it discovered?" Scott inquired, his mind still
dazed by the wild torrent of thought surging through his brain as
he recalled the events of the previous night.

"Hardy, his valet, was the first to discover it this morning.  We
have telephoned for his physician and for the coroner; they will be
out on the next train from the city."

Harry Scott shuddered as he entered the familiar room where he had
taken leave of his employer but comparatively few hours before.
Even amid the confusion, he noted that in the outer room everything
appeared the same as when he last saw it, but the portieres at the
farther side, pushed widely open, revealed a ghastly sight.

Upon the floor, about half-way between the desk and safe, his head
resting in a small pool of blood, lay Hugh Mainwaring.  He was
inclined slightly towards his right side, his arm partially extended,
and on the floor, near his right hand, lay a revolver, while an ugly
wound just above the right eye and near the temple showed where the
weapon had done its deadly work.  The closely cut hair about the
temple was singed and his face was blackened, showing that the fatal
shot had been fired at close range.  There were no indications,
however, of a struggle of any kind; the great revolving-chair,
usually standing in front of the desk, had been pushed aside, but
everything else was in its accustomed place, and the desk was closed
and locked.

Ralph Mainwaring was already kneeling beside the body; Mr. Thornton
and young Mainwaring, who had entered immediately after Scott and
the attorney, stood speechless with horror.  With what conflicting
emotions the young secretary gazed upon the lifeless form of his
employer, fortunately for him at that moment, no one knew; as his
mind cleared, he began to realize that his position was likely to
prove a difficult and dangerous one, and that he must act with
extreme caution.

The silence was first broken by Mr. Thornton, who exclaimed,--

"Terrible!  Terrible!  What do you think, Mainwaring? is this murder
or suicide?"

"Time alone will tell," replied Mr. Mainwaring in a low tone; "but I
am inclined to think it is murder."

"Murder without a doubt!" added Mr. Whitney.

"But who could have done such a deed?" groaned Mr. Thornton.

Hugh Mainwaring was attired, as when Scott had last seen him, in a
rich dressing-gown; but as the secretary knelt beside the silent
form and touched the left hand lying partially hidden in its folds,
he gave a slight start, and, quickly passing his hand within the
dressing-gown, announced in a low tone,--

"His diamond ring and his watch are both gone!"

"Robbery!" exclaimed young Mainwaring; "that must have been the
object of the murderer!"  While his father, glancing towards the
safe, remarked,--

"We must ascertain whether anything else is missing."

"We will make a thorough examination of the room after the coroner's
arrival," said Mr. Whitney, "but, for the present, everything must
remain as it is."

"Should we not send for a detective at once?" Mr. Thornton inquired.

"I have already telephoned for one upon my own responsibility,"
replied the attorney.

"When were you last in these rooms, Mr. Scott?" asked Ralph
Mainwaring of the secretary, who had risen to his feet and was making
a careful survey of the room.

"About twelve o'clock last night, sir," was his reply; then noting a
look of surprise on the faces about him, he added,--

"I came at Mr. Mainwaring's request, as he wished to give directions
regarding some work to be done this morning."

"He was alone at that time?"

"Yes, sir."

"How did he appear?" inquired Mr. Thornton.

"The same as usual, except that he seemed very weary."

"Was he in this room?" asked Mr. Mainwaring.

"No, sir; he was seated in the library."

The sound of voices in the corridor attracted Mr. Mainwaring's
attention, and he turned quickly to his son,--

"Hugh, I hear your mother's voice; go and meet her.  The ladies must
not be allowed to come in here."

Mr. Thornton turned to accompany young Mainwaring.  Near the door he
met his daughter and Miss Carleton, while a little farther down the
corridor were Isabel Mainwaring and her mother.  With terror-stricken
faces they gathered about him, unable to believe the terrible report
which they had learned from the servants.  As best he could, he
answered their numerous inquiries, and, having escorted them to
another part of the house, left them in charge of young Mainwaring,
while he returned to the library.

Meanwhile, the news of the murder had spread with lightning-like
rapidity, and already crowds of people, drawn by that strange
fascination which always exists for a certain class in scenes of
this kind, were gathering on the grounds outside the house, forming
in little groups, conversing with the servants, or gazing upward
with awe-stricken glances at the closely-drawn shutters of the room
in the tower.  The invisible barriers which so long had excluded
the public from Fair Oaks had been swept away by the hand of death,
and rich and poor, capitalist and laborer, alike wandered
unrestrained up and down the oak-lined avenue.

At the door of the library, Mr. Thornton found Ralph Mainwaring and
the attorney conversing together in low tones.

"Yes," Mr. Mainwaring was saying, "as you say, it is undoubtedly
murder; but I confess I am at a loss to understand the motive for
such a deed, unless it were robbery; and you do not seem to give
that idea much credence?"

Mr. Whitney shook his head decidedly.  "Unless we find very strong
evidence in that direction, I cannot believe that this is any case
of common robbery."

"But to what other motive would you attribute it?" inquired Mr.
Mainwaring.

"Until further facts have been developed which may throw light upon
the subject, I do not feel prepared to say what the motive might
have been."

"You evidently have your suspicions," remarked Mr. Mainwaring, while
Mr. Thornton inquired,--

"Had our cousin any enemies that you know of?"

Mr. Whitney turned a keen, penetrating glance upon Mr. Thornton for
an instant, and the latter continued,--

"I thought it possible that in his business relations he might have
incurred the enmity of some one of whom you knew."

"No," the attorney answered, quickly, "I am not aware of anything
of that nature.  Mr. Mainwaring made few intimate friends, but he
was universally respected by all who knew him.  If he had any
enemies," he added, very slowly, "they were within his own
household."

Ralph Mainwaring looked sharply at the attorney, but
Mr. Thornton exclaimed,--

"'Egad! sir, but you surely do not think this deed was committed by
any one of the inmates of this house?"

"As I have already said," replied Mr. Whitney, "I am not prepared
to state what I do think without further knowledge of the facts in
the case."

"Of course we understand that," rejoined Mr. Mainwaring; "but we
desire to have the benefit of your opinions and judgment regarding
this case so soon as you do feel justified in expressing them, and,
since you are vastly more familiar with the circumstances
surrounding it than we, we wish to rely on your suggestions in
this matter."

The attorney bowed.  "My advice for the present would be to take
care that no one leaves the premises, and that you also send for
Mrs. LaGrange; I wish to see her," he said briefly, and passed
into the library.

Ralph Mainwaring beckoned to the butler; who was standing at a
little distance, awaiting orders.

"Call the housekeeper at once, Mr. Whitney wishes to see her in the
library; and send Wilson to me, and also the coachman."

With a silent acknowledgment of the order the butler withdrew, and
a moment later, John Wilson, a middle-aged man and a servant of Ralph
Mainwaring's who had accompanied him from London, appeared, followed
by Brown, the coachman at Fair Oaks.

Mr. Mainwaring first addressed the latter.  "Brown, for the next
hour or so, I wish you to be stationed in the hall below.  Keep back
the crowd as much as possible; when the coroner and physician arrive
show them up at once, but on no account allow any one else to come
up-stairs."

Then turning to his own serving-man, as Brown departed to the duties
assigned him, Mr. Mainwaring continued,

"'For you, Wilson, I have a task which I cannot intrust to any one
else, but which I know you will perform faithfully and discreetly;
so far as you are able, keep a close watch upon every one within
this house, without seeming to do so; pay close attention to all
conversation which you hear, and if you hear or see anything unusual,
or that seems to have any bearing on what has occurred, report to
me at once.  Above all, do not let any of the servants leave the
premises without they have my permission."

"Very well, sir," Wilson replied; as he moved away the butler
reappeared.

"The housekeeper has not yet left her room, sir," he said, addressing
Mr. Mainwaring.  "I gave the message by the chambermaid, and she
sent word that she had been prostrated by the terrible news this
morning, sir, but that she would see Mr. Whitney in a few moments."

As the man retreated, Mr. Thornton paused suddenly in his walk up
and down the corridor,--

"'Pon my soul, Mainwaring! it strikes me--particularly since hearing
that will read yesterday--that there must have been something with
reference to that woman--well--rather peculiar, don't you know."

"It strikes me," replied Mr. Mainwaring with marked emphasis, "that
there may be something rather 'peculiar,' as you call it, in that
direction at present, and I believe Mr. Whitney is of the same
opinion."

"How is that?  You surely do not think it possible that in his mind
she is in any way associated with this murder--if it is a murder?"

"He evidently suspects some one in this house, and for the present
we can draw our own inferences.  Regarding those provisions in the
will to which you just now alluded, I can assure you I was not too
well pleased; but I knew it was useless to raise any objections or
questions; to my mind, however, they furnish a clue as to the
possible claimants against the estate, which we were discussing
yesterday, and perhaps a clue to this latest development, also."

"By my soul! it looks like it; but surely she could have no valid
claim."

"Valid or not," replied Ralph Mainwaring, "there must have been a
powerful claim of some kind.  When a man of Hugh Mainwaring's
type leaves a handsome annuity to his housekeeper, and an interest
in his business worth fifty or seventy-five thousand to her son,
it may be considered pretty strong evidence that--"

At a warning glance from Mr. Thornton, Ralph Mainwaring paused
abruptly and, turning, saw Mrs. LaGrange coming noiselessly down
the corridor.  She was dressed with even more than usual care,
with quantities of rich lace fastened loosely about her shapely
neck and falling in profusion over her beautifully moulded wrists
and hands.  Her dark, handsome features bore no trace of recent
prostration, but betrayed, instead, signs of intense excitement.
She bowed silently and passed onward, entering the library so
quietly that the attorney, absorbed in thought, was unaware of her
presence until she stood before him.  He started slightly, and for
an instant neither spoke.  Each was silently gauging the power of
the other.

For some time, Mrs. LaGrange had been conscious that Mr. Whitney
was one of the few whose penetration could not be blinded by her
blandishments.  In addition, the fact that he was the private
solicitor and legal adviser of Hugh Mainwaring did not tend to
inspire her with confidence regarding his attitude towards herself.
Nevertheless, he was an eminent attorney and this was a critical
moment; if she could gain his favor and his services in her behalf,
it would be a brilliant stroke of policy.  Her plans were well laid,
and she was prepared to assume whatever role was necessary, so soon
as his words or manner should give her the desired cue.

For this, she did not have long to wait; one searching glance, and
she had read in the piercing scrutiny and cold scorn of his keen
blue eye that, so far from winning favor from him, he would prove
her most bitter opponent, and as quickly she determined upon her
future course of action.

Mr. Whitney, on the other hand, though a frequent visitor at Fair
Oaks, and familiar with the fascinating manner with which, when she
chose, Mrs. LaGrange entertained the guests of Hugh Mainwaring, was
now forced to acknowledge to himself that never had he seen this
handsome woman so beautiful as at the present moment.  The eyes
looking into his with such depth of meaning,--the expression, the
attitude,--all were utterly unlike anything which he had ever seen;
but his face grew only the more stern, for the thought then and
there occurred to him that perhaps here was the solution of the
mysterious power which this woman had wielded over the man whose
lifeless form was now lying in their presence.

He observed that the luminous eyes grew suddenly cold, while her
head assumed its usual haughty poise; the brief spell was over, and
each understood the other.

After a few general directions, Mr. Whitney remarked, "This day's
events will be far different from what we had anticipated."

"Yes," she replied, with a mocking smile, "in that it brings to the
guests of this house, instead of future expectations, the immediate
realization of their wishes!"

"It is not to be conceived for one moment that any of them take that
view of what has occurred," he replied, in a tone of displeasure.

"Possibly not," she rejoined, "although the prospective long life
of their host seemed to greatly detract, at least in the case of one
of their number, from their enjoyment of the occasion which they had
come to celebrate."

"To whom do you refer?" he inquired.

"It is unnecessary to give names," she answered, coldly; "but had
the Mainwarings of London known the facts which I know, they would
never have crossed the water to take part in the farce which was
enacted here yesterday.  There are Mainwarings with better right
and title to this estate than they, as they will soon learn."

Neither by look nor gesture did she manifest the least consciousness
of, or concern for, the inanimate form visible in the adjoining room.
With sudden directness, and ignoring the implied threat in her last
words, Mr. Whitney asked,--

"Mrs. LaGrange, at what hour did you last see Hugh Mainwaring?"

She was about to reply, when Scott entered from the tower-room.  He
had heard her last remark, and his dark, piercing eyes were fixed
upon her face in keen scrutiny.  She was quick to note the fact and
hesitated an instant, while a change, inexplicable to the attorney,
passed over her face,--surprise, a shade almost of fear, and
haughty defiance were visible in quick succession; then, turning
again towards Mr. Whitney, she answered, indifferently,--

"It was quite late last night; I do not recollect the hour."

As the attorney was about to speak, Mr. Thornton appeared at the
door of the library.

"Beg pardon, Mr. Whitney, but I believe the coroner and others have
arrived; as you know the gentlemen, will you kindly meet them?"

"Certainly.  Mr. Scott, you will please remain here," and the
attorney hastened out into the corridor.

Again Mrs. LaGrange and the secretary faced each other in silence,
each apparently trying to read the other's thoughts and probe the
depth of the other's knowledge; then, as the gentlemen were heard
approaching, she withdrew, leaving him alone.

CHAPTER V

IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES

As the attorney, in response to the summons from Mr. Thornton,
hastened from the corridor into the main hall, five gentlemen were
slowly ascending the broad stairway, conversing together in subdued
tones.  One, younger than the others and evidently more familiar
with the surroundings at Fair Oaks, stepped quickly in advance of
the rest and extended his hand to Mr. Whitney in silent greeting.
This was Dr. Hobart, Hugh Mainwaring's physician and one of his most
intimate friends, although a number of years his junior.  Following
him were Mr. Elliott and Mr. Chittenden, of the firm of Mainwaring
& Co., while bringing up the rear were the coroner and a gentleman,
somewhat below medium size and of modest appearance, whom the
attorney greeted very cordially and afterwards introduced to Mr.
Thornton as Mr. Merrick.  Proceeding at once to the library, they
were joined a moment later by Ralph Mainwaring and his son.  The
necessary introductions followed, and Mr. Mainwaring having given
the butler instructions to admit no one into the library, Mr. Whitney
made a brief statement regarding the discovery of the murder, and
all passed into the room in the tower.

Dr. Hobart at once bent over the prostrate form with genuine sorrow.
The millionaire broker had been one of his earliest patrons, and
their acquaintance had soon ripened into a mutual attachment,
notwithstanding the disparity in their ages.  After a long look at
the face of his friend, he gave place to the coroner, who was also
a physician.  They partially lifted the body and both examined the
wound, the small man who had accompanied the coroner looking on
silently.  It was found that the bullet had entered just above the
right eye and had passed through the brain in a slightly downward
direction, coming out near the base upon the same side.  The most
careful search failed to disclose the bullet, and attention was
next directed to the revolver lying upon the floor near the right
hand.  It was a Smith & Wesson, thirty-two calibre, with but one
empty chamber, that from which the fatal bullet had probably
been discharged.

"Can any of you gentlemen tell me whether or not this belonged to
the deceased?" inquired the coroner, holding up the revolver.

There was an instant's pause, and Mr. Whitney replied, "I know
that Mr. Mainwaring owned a revolver, but, having never seen it,
am unable to answer your inquiry.  Perhaps his secretary could
give you the desired information."

"I have often seen a revolver lying in Mr. Mainwaring's desk,"
said the secretary; "but I doubt whether I could identify it, as
I never observed it closely.  I should judge, however, that this
was the same size and make."

"Would it not be well to see if it is still there?" suggested
the attorney.  "I suppose you have a key to the desk."

"I have, sir," he replied, at the same time producing it.  Crossing
the room, he unlocked and opened the desk.  An instant later, he
announced, as he closed the desk, "It is not here."

There was a subdued murmur, and Mr. Thornton was heard to exclaim,
"Suicide!  That has been my impression all along."

Ralph Mainwaring glanced inquiringly at the attorney, who shook
his head emphatically, while the coroner once more inspected the
wound with an air of perplexity.

"Doctor," inquired Ralph Mainwaring, "in your opinion, how long has
life been extinct?"

"I should judge about eight or nine hours," replied Dr. Hobart.
"What would you say, Dr. Westlake?"

"That would be my judgment, also."

"You would say that death was instantaneous?" questioned the
attorney.

"Without a doubt.  It could not have been otherwise?"  Ralph
Mainwaring consulted his watch.  "It is now half after nine; in your
judgment, then, this must have occurred about one o'clock this
morning?"

"About that time."

"At what hour was Mr. Mainwaring last seen by any one in this
house?" asked the coroner.

"As nearly as we have ascertained thus far, at about twelve o'clock."

"Twelve?  Indeed!  By whom?  and where?"

"By his private secretary, and in the library adjoining."

"Very well," said the coroner, after a pause, during which he had
made a memorandum of certain details which he considered of special
importance; "the undertaker can now be summoned as I believe he is
waiting below, and we seem to have ascertained all the facts possible
in this direction; and, Mr. Whitney, I will next see the valet, whom
you say was the one to discover the situation this morning."

In the slight confusion and delay which ensued, Mr. Elliott and Mr.
Chittenden took their departure, with the usual expressions of
condolence and regret, followed a few moments later by Dr. Hobart,
who was accompanied downstairs by young Mainwaring.

Meanwhile, Mr. Merrick, having made a close scrutiny of the lifeless
form, had been slowly walking back and forth in the tower-room and
library, his hands in the pockets of his short sacque coat and his
eyes apparently riveted on the floor.  Several times in the library
he paused and, bending downward, seemed to be intently studying the
carpet; then, after two or three turns about the room, he sauntered
towards the windows and doors, examining the fastenings of each in
turn, and, on reaching the door opening into the southern hall,
suddenly disappeared.

"A very mysterious case!" commented the coroner, when he had finished
his interview with the valet.  "Thus far nothing can be learned which
throws much actual light on the subject one way or another, but if
anybody can unravel the mystery, Merrick can."

"Merrick!" repeated Mr. Thornton, turning to Mr. Whitney in surprise.
"Is Mr. Merrick a detective?"

"He is.  I did not introduce him as such, for the reason that in a
case of this kind he usually prefers to make his first visit incognito
if possible."

"Very well; you have taken the responsibility in this matter.  You
understand, of course, Mr. Whitney, that we want no amateur work in
a case like this."

"Mr. Merrick is no amateur," said the attorney, quietly; "he is one
of the most trusted and one of the surest men on the force."

"Before we go any farther," interposed Ralph Mainwaring, "I suggest
that we ascertain whether or not there has been a robbery.  We can
at least satisfy ourselves on that point."

"Acting on your suggestion, we will examine the safe," said Mr.
Whitney; "though I, for one, am not inclined to think there has been
any robbery.  Without a knowledge of the combination, the safe could
not be opened unless force were employed; and it certainly bears no
evidence of having been tampered with."

"Proceed with your investigation, Mr. Whitney," said the quiet voice
of the detective, who had entered unobserved from the smoking-room;
"unless I am greatly mistaken, the person we are after is some one
pretty familiar with various 'combinations' in these apartments."

There was a general expression of surprise, and all turned towards
Mr. Merrick for an explanation, but a glance at his impassive face
convinced them that questions would be useless.

With a few swift turns the secretary unlocked the safe and the
ponderous doors swung open, showing books and papers in their
accustomed places.  Everything appeared in perfect order; but as the
attorney began a rapid examination of the interior, he suddenly
uttered a sharp exclamation, while, as he continued his search, his
manner betrayed considerable excitement.

"Anything wrong, Mr. Whitney?  anything missing?" queried Ralph
Mainwaring.

"Everything is missing!" the other exclaimed, after a moment's pause,
turning around with a pale face and holding in his hand an empty
cash box; "there is absolutely nothing left but an old cheque-book,
a few drafts, and some other papers of no value whatever except to
Hugh Mainwaring himself!"

Half a score of questions were instantly raised: "Was there a large
amount of money in the safe?"  "Did it contain anything of great
value?"

Scott, standing silently in the background, seemed to see
again the brilliant gems flashing in the sunlight, as he had
seen them in his search on the preceding day, but he said
nothing.

"There was a considerable amount of cash," the attorney was saying.
"Mr. Mainwaring deposited a large sum there when he last came out
from the city, and," he added more slowly, "the old family jewels
were kept in the safe."

"The Mainwaring jewels!" echoed both the Englishmen. "Impossible!
incredible!"  While Ralph Mainwaring exclaimed, "Why, they were
worth a fortune several times over in themselves!"

"I am aware of that," answered the attorney.  "I often remonstrated
with Mr. Mainwaring, but to no purpose; for some reason which he
never explained he always kept them there."

"I would never have believed him capable of such recklessness," said
Mr. Thornton.

"Recklessness!" exclaimed Ralph Mainwaring; "it was the biggest
piece of imbecility I ever heard of!  What is your opinion now, Mr.
Whitney, regarding a robbery in connection with this case?"

"That there has been a robbery I am forced to admit," the attorney
replied, courteously but firmly; "but my opinion of the matter is
still unchanged.  I regard the robbery as only incident to the
murder.  I do not yet believe it to have led to the deeper crime."

"Do you know, Mr. Scott, whether any one beside yourself understood
the combination of the safe?" Ralph Mainwaring inquired.

"I do not, sir," the secretary replied, conscious that all eyes had
turned upon him at the inquiry and that the detective was observing
him closely.

Meanwhile Ralph Mainwaring loudly lamented the missing jewels, until
it was evident to all that their loss, for the time at least, had
completely overshadowed all thought of the tragedy they were
investigating.

"They must be recovered at all hazards and at any price," he said,
addressing the detective.  "There were single gems in that
collection which cost a fortune and which have been heirlooms in
the family for generations."

After further search which failed to disclose anything of importance,
or any clue regarding either the murder or the robbery, arrangements
were made for the inquest to be held at three o'clock that afternoon,
and the party was about to leave the apartments, when Mr. Whitney
paused.

"One moment, gentlemen; there is one more point I would like
investigated.  I maintain that we have not yet discovered the most
essential clue to this case--something to throw light on the
possible motive which prompted the murder of Hugh Mainwaring.  I
now wish to make a final trial.  Mr. Scott, will you once more open
Mr. Mainwaring's desk for us and take out the will that was deposited
there yesterday?"

Ralph Mainwaring started.  "The will?  You surely do not think--"

"I think it might be safer in our own possession," said the attorney,
with a peculiar smile.

"And right you are!" added Mr. Thornton, approvingly.  "I wonder you
had not thought of that yourself, Mainwaring."

Meanwhile, Scott, having opened the desk in compliance with the
attorney's request, had looked for the will where he had last seen it
on the preceding day, and, failing to find it, was searching through
the numerous receptacles containing Mr. Mainwaring's private papers.
The silence around him became oppressive, and suddenly looking up,
he encountered the glance of both Mr. Whitney and the detective, the
former with an expression of triumph in his keen eyes.  Perplexed and
bewildered, Scott exclaimed in a mechanical tone,--

"The will is gone; it is nowhere to be found!"

"I thought as much," said the attorney, quietly.

CHAPTER VI

THE INQUEST

The crowd, which early in the day had gathered about Fair Oaks,
instead of diminishing, seemed rather to increase as the hours
slipped away.  Little by little the facts became known to
outsiders,--the loss of the old family jewels, concerning whose existence
and probable value vague rumors had been circulated in the past, the
drawing up of the will on the preceding day and its strange
disappearance in connection with the sudden and mysterious death of
the testator,--all combined to arouse public interest and curiosity
to an unusual degree; it seemed the culmination of the impenetrable
mystery which for years had shrouded the place.

As the hour for the inquest approached, the crowd was augmented by
each suburban train, until a throng of business men of all classes,
interspersed with numerous reporters eager for the details of the
affair, covered the grounds and even sought admittance to the house,
for the millionaire broker, though a man of few intimate friendships,
was widely known and honored in the financial and commercial world.

Shortly after the arrival of the 2.45 train from the city, the
Mainwaring carriage came rapidly up the avenue, two or three other
carriages following in the rear.  As it stopped, Mr. Whitney
alighted, followed by an elderly gentleman of fine appearance and
two officers of the special police, who immediately began to force
back the crowd, while the attorney and his companion hastily entered
the house and were met by the butler, who, in response to a hurried
inquiry, directed them up-stairs.

In the private library they found the detective who had been left
there alone at his own request.  There was a brief interview between
the three, after which Mr. Whitney begged his companion to excuse
him for a moment, and beckoning Mr. Merrick into the tower-room,
asked eagerly,--

"Well, what success?  Have you struck the trail?"

With an enigmatical smile, the detective replied, "The game has
doubled back on the trail pretty adroitly, but I have made one or
two little discoveries that may be of value later.  What do you
think of this?"

Opening a small note-book, he took therefrom several pieces of burnt
paper, most of which were so blackened that the faint traces of
writing which they bore were illegible.  On a few pieces, however,
words and parts of words could be distinctly read.

Mr. Whitney studied the bits of discolored paper for a moment, and
then exclaimed in excited tones,

"Good heavens, man! it is the will!  The will drawn up in these
rooms yesterday!  See, here is the date, 'this seventh day of July,
in the year of our'--the rest is gone."

"Here is part of a name," said the detective, "'nor Houghton
LaGra'--"

"Eleanor Houghton LaGrange!" exclaimed the attorney, "and below
you can just trace the words, 'this amount of annuity to be'; and
here are other bits, 'as to my estate and all property,' 'to hold
the same forever, together with.'  Well, I should say these were
of value; where did you find them?"

For answer, Mr. Merrick pointed to a small fireplace behind the
safe, near which a large screen was standing.

"Strange!" exclaimed the attorney.  "I never noticed that before,
much as I have been here."

"It escaped my observation for some time," replied the other.  "I
searched the fireplace in the library, but this grate is very small
and was concealed by that large screen, as well as by the safe.
Evidently, it was seldom used, and was selected for that reason by
whoever destroyed the will, as more likely to escape notice."

"Rather a bungling piece of work," commented the attorney, "leaving
these partially burned scraps.  I wonder that he or she, whoever it
was, did not make sure that they were entirely consumed."

"The person may have heard some sound and, fearing detection,
hastened away before the job was completed," suggested the other.

"Well, it is past three, we must hasten; you found nothing more?"

"Nothing of special importance.  I have learned one fact, however;
the murder was never committed in this room, but in the library."

"The library!  Why do you think that?"

"I do not think it, I know it, and was confident of it while we
were making the examination this morning.  Say nothing about it,
however, for the present.  We will go now, if you are ready."

Joining the gentleman still awaiting them in the library, they
descended into the lower hall, where the detective suddenly
disappeared.

Meanwhile, the coroner and members of the jury, after alighting
from their carriages, marched gravely up the broad stairs and were
conducted by a servant into one of the private apartments where lay
the body of the murdered man.  Under the direction of Dr. Westlake,
the jury individually viewed the wounds, noting their location and
character, and, after a brief visit to the room in the tower, all
passed downstairs and were shown into the large library on the first
floor.

The coroner occupied a large arm-chair at one end of a long
writing-table in the centre of the room, the jury being seated
together near his left, while on each side of the table chairs had
been placed for the accommodation of a few of the more prominent
reporters, the others, less favored, stationing themselves at the
doorways and open windows.

In the room back of the library were the servants, the women grouped
about the great arched doorway with white, frightened faces, the men
standing a little farther in the rear, while in a dim corner,
partially concealed by the heavy portieres and unseen by any one
excepting the servants, was the detective.

When everything was in readiness, Mr. Whitney entered the room with
the gentleman who had accompanied him out from the city and followed
by the London guests.  In the lead were Ralph Mainwaring and his
son, the entrance of the latter causing a small stir of interest and
excitement, as a score of pencils at once began to rapidly sketch
the features of the young Englishman, the intended heir of Hugh
Mainwaring.  The young man's face wore an expression of unconcern,
but his father's features were set and severe.  To him, the loss of
the will meant something more than the forfeiture of the exclusive
ownership of a valuable estate; it meant the overthrow and demolition
of one of his pet schemes, cherished for twenty-one years, just on
the eve of its fulfilment; and those who knew Ralph Mainwaring knew
that to thwart his plans was a dangerous undertaking.

Mr. Thornton followed, escorting Mrs. Mainwaring and her daughter,
the cold, gray eyes of Isabel Mainwaring flashing a look of haughty
disdain on the faces about her.  Bringing up the rear was Mrs. Hogarth
with her two charges, Edith Thornton and Winifred Carleton, the face
of the latter lighted with an intelligent, sympathetic interest in
her surroundings.

Harry Scott next entered, pausing in the doorway for an instant,
while just behind him appeared Mrs. LaGrange.  The room was already
crowded, and Miss Carleton, seated near the door, with a quick
glance invited the young secretary to a vacant chair by her side,
which he gracefully accepted, but not before a tiny note had been
thrust into his hand, unseen by any one excepting the detective.

Pale, but with all her accustomed hauteur, Mrs. LaGrange,
accompanied by her son, passed slowly around the group of reporters,
ignoring the chair offered by the attorney, and seated herself in a
position as remote as possible from the guests of the house and
commanding a full view of the servants.  Her gown was noticeable
for its elegance, and her jewelled hands toyed daintily with a
superb fan, from whose waving black plumes a perfume, subtle and
exquisite, was wafted to every part of the room.

In the silence that followed, the coroner, with a few brief words,
called for the first witness, George Hardy.  A young man, with a
frank face and quiet, unassuming manner, stepped forward from the
group of servants.  After the usual preliminaries, the coroner
inquired,--

"How long have you been in the employ of Mr. Mainwaring?"

"Nearly four years, sir."

"During that time you have held the position of valet?"

"Yes, sir."

"At what time this morning did you discover what had occurred?"

"About seven o'clock, sir."

"You may state how you came to make this discovery, giving full
particulars."

"I had gone as usual to the bath-room to prepare the bath for Mr.
Mainwaring, and when everything was in readiness I knocked at his
door to waken him.  There was no answer, and, after knocking several
times, I unlocked the door and looked in.  I saw he had not occupied
the room, but I didn't think much about that, and went on through
the smoking-room into the library, and then I saw Mr. Mainwaring
lying on the floor in the next room.  At first I thought he was sick
and went to him, but as I got nearer I saw that he was dead, and
then I noticed the revolver lying beside him."

"What did you then do?"

"I was frightened, sir, and I went to call help as quick as I could."

"Who was the first person whom you met and told of your discovery?"

"Well, sir, I went first for Mr. Whitney, because he was a friend
of Mr. Mainwaring's and a lawyer, and I thought he would know what
to do; but on my way to his room I met Wilson, Mr. Ralph Mainwaring's
valet, and I told him what had happened; then I called Mr. Whitney
and told him Mr. Mainwaring had shot himself."

"Did you get the impression that Mr. Mainwaring bad shot himself
from the fact that the revolver lay near his band, or had you any
other reasons for that inference?"

"No, sir, that was the only reason."

"Can you state positively whether this revolver belonged to Mr.
Mainwaring?" asked the coroner, at the same time passing the weapon
to Hardy.

"Yes, sir," replied the latter, promptly, handing it back after a
moment's inspection, "that is Mr. Mainwaring's revolver.  I've
cleaned it many a time, and there's little marks on it that I know
sure."

"Very well.  After summoning Mr. Whitney, did you call any other
members of the household?"

"Mr. Whitney sent me to call Mr. Ralph Mainwaring; but I met Wilson
again, and he said he had just told Mr. Mainwaring and Mr. Thornton,
and was on his way to the room of young Mr. Mainwaring.  Down the
hall I met the butler and told him what had happened, and we both
went into the library, and I stayed there till Mr. Whitney came."

"When did you last see Mr. Hugh Mainwaring?"

"Shortly after dinner last evening, between seven and eight o'clock,
I should say, sir."

"Where was that?"

"In the main hall down-stairs, sir.  He stopped me to say that he
would not need me last evening, and that after locking up his rooms
for the night I could have my time to myself."

"Was the locking of his rooms usually included among your duties at
night?"

"Yes, sir; his private rooms and the hall on the south side."

"Did you have any stated time for doing this?"

"At nine o'clock, sir."

"You locked the rooms as usual last night?"

"Yes, sir; that is, I locked them all right, but it was later than
usual."

"How was that?"

"About half an hour after Mr. Mainwaring spoke to me, the housekeeper
came and asked me to keep the rooms open till about ten o'clock, as
she was expecting callers and wanted to receive them by the south
hall into her private parlor."

"At what time did you lock the rooms?"

"A few minutes after ten, sir.  I felt kind of uneasy, because it
was Mr. Mainwaring's orders that the rooms be shut at nine; so soon
as 'twas ten o'clock I went around outside, and, seeing no light in
her parlor, I went in and locked the hall and then went up-stairs
to lock the rooms there."

"Did you see any strangers about the place at that time?"

"No, sir."

"You saw no one in any of Mr. Mainwaring's private rooms?"

"No strangers, you mean?  No, sir."

"Was there any one in his rooms?"

"The housekeeper was in the library.  She had gone up-stairs that
way, she said, and had found the door into the main hall locked,
and hearing me come, she waited for me to open it."

"Had you locked the door into the main hall?"

"No, sir; that door wasn't usually locked in the evening.  I don't
know who locked it, but I opened it for her and then locked it
again."

"Are you positive there was no one else in those rooms at that time?"

"Yes, sir, pretty sure," replied Hardy, with a smile, "for I looked
them over uncommon thorough last night.  I thought at first that I
smelled smoke, like something burning, but I looked around careful
and everything was all right."

At this point Mr. Whitney held a whispered consultation with the
coroner for a moment.

"You say," continued the latter, "you thought you smelled something
burning; could you state what the material seemed to be?"

"Well, sir, I thought it was like paper burning; but I must have
been mistaken, for the papers on the table was all right and there
was nothing in the fireplace."

"Did you see or hear anything unusual about the place at any time
last night?"

"No, sir."

For a moment the coroner was occupied with a slip of paper which
had been passed to him through a number of hands; then he said,--

"Before you are dismissed, will you describe the locks used on the
doors of Mr. Mainwaring's library and the south hall."

"They had the ordinary locks, sir; and then, in addition, a small,
patent lock, that when a certain spring was turned the door locked
of itself and could not be opened from either side unless one had
the key and understood the working of the spring."

"Who had keys to fit these locks?"

"No one but Mr. Mainwaring.  When he was home and wanted the doors
unlocked, he hung the keys in a particular place in the library
where I could find them, and when he went away he always took them
with him."

"Did you unlock the library doors this morning?"

"Only the door into the main hall when I went to call Mr. Whitney,--that
had nothing but an ordinary lock; but the other door, into
the south hall, was unlocked and the keys gone when I first went
into the library."

"One question more.  Do you know whether any one else in the house
had knowledge of or access to, these particular keys?"

"I don't know for certain, sir, but I think not."

The attorney was next called upon, and came forward, while Hardy
resumed his former place among the servants.

"Mr. Whitney," said the coroner, after the witness had given the
details of his arrival in the tower-room in response to the valet's
summons, "will you please state when, and under what circumstances,
you last saw Hugh Mainwaring living."

"At nearly eleven o'clock last night.  Mr. Mainwaring had just
bidden his guests good-night, and I believe they had all retired to
their rooms, leaving him and myself together upon the veranda in
front of the house.  I remained with him about ten minutes, I should
judge, talking over the events of the day which had been of unusual
interest.  I remember his remarking that he should not retire for an
hour or so, as, to use his own expression, his thoughts would not
let him sleep.  We clasped hands with an exchange of good wishes.
That was the last I ever saw him living or heard him speak."

Mr. Whitney's voice trembled slightly towards the close of his
recital, but as he repeated Hugh Mainwaring's words a smile of scorn
passed over the face of Mrs. LaGrange, who was seated directly
opposite.

"Will you please state," said the coroner, "how Mr. Mainwaring had
been engaged during the day, yesterday."

"Until about half-past two his time was spent in the preparation,
with the assistance of his secretary and myself, and the execution
of his last will and testament.  The remainder of the day was devoted
to the entertainment of his guests."

"Will you give briefly and in general terms the conditions of the
will."

"With the exception of an annuity to his housekeeper and a handsome
bequest to her son, it conveyed everything to his cousin and
namesake, Hugh Mainwaring, Jr., whom he intended to-day to formally
declare his heir."

"Where was this document placed, Mr. Whitney?"

"It was, at Mr. Mainwaring's request, placed by his secretary on his
desk in the tower-room."

"You can give no further information regarding this will, now
missing?"

"Only this," replied Mr. Whitney, with marked emphasis, "that we
now have positive proof that the will was burned."

There was a general movement of surprise, both among the members
of the household and outsiders; and the attorney, closely observant
of Mrs. LaGrange, saw her cheek, which but a moment before, at his
mention of the annuity contained in the will, had flamed with anger,
suddenly assume a strange pallor.

"Mr. Whitney," continued the coroner, having consulted a small
memorandum which he held, "do you know whether there were any
strangers at Fair Oaks yesterday?"

"I have no personal knowledge on that subject.  The secretary informs
me that a stranger inquired for Mr. Mainwaring in the afternoon, and
remarks were made at luncheon, that impressed me considerably,
regarding some one who had called in the forenoon, whether to see Mr.
Mainwaring I am not prepared to state."

"Will you state the nature of those remarks?"

"I should prefer to be excused until later in this examination.  For
the present, I will merely say that one of Mr. Mainwaring's guests
incidentally met and recognized this caller; that the latter was
evidently well and unfavorably known by both Mr. Mainwaring and his
guests, and, if I am not mistaken, by the secretary also, and that
the mention of the man's name seemed to affect Mr. Hugh Mainwaring
very unpleasantly."

"In what respect, Mr. Whitney?"

"He grew very pale and appeared confused, if not alarmed, on
learning that the man was in this country and had been seen at this
house, and he seemed abstracted and very unlike himself for fully
an hour after the occurrence."

"Will you state the name of this man?"

"He was spoken of as Richard Hobson, formerly an attorney, of London."

CHAPTER VII

A LITTLE ROYAL

"Harry Scorr, private secretary of Hugh Mainwaring," announced the
coroner, when Mr. Whitney had resumed his chair.

As the young secretary walked deliberately through the crowded room,
there were few who failed to remark his erect, athletic form, his
splendid bearing, and especially the striking beauty of his dark
face, with its olive tint, clear-cut features, indicative of firmness
and strength, and large, piercing eyes, within whose depths, on the
present occasion, there seemed to be, half hidden, half revealed,
some smouldering fire.  Instantly a half-dozen pencils were
transferring to paper his form and features.

"Say, what are you 'doing' him for?" whispered one reporter to his
neighbor.  "He isn't anybody; only the old man's secretary."

"Can't help that," replied the other; "he's better looking than the
English chap, anyhow; and, in my opinion, the old fellow would have
shown better sense to have left him the 'stuff.'"

Meanwhile, young Scott, having answered a few preliminary
interrogatories, turned slowly, facing Mrs. LaGrange, who was
watching him with an intensity of manner and expression as though she
would compel him to meet her gaze.

As his glance met hers, a look of inquiry flashed from her eyes to
his, accompanied by an expression persuasive, almost appealing.  But
the only reply was an ominous flash from the dark eyes, as, with a
gesture of proud disdain, he folded his arms and again faced his
interlocutor, while, with eyes gleaming with revenge from under
their heavily drooping lids and lips that curled from time to time
in a smile of bitter malignity, she watched him, listening eagerly
for his testimony, losing no word that he said.

The young secretary well understood the character of the enemy with
whom he had thus declared war, though he was as yet in ignorance of
the weapons she would use against him, but the honeyed words of the
little note crushed within his pocket had no power to swerve him for
an instant from the course upon which he had determined.

After a few general questions, the coroner said,

"Please state when and what was the first intimation received by you
of any unusual occurrence."

"I was awakened this morning by a woman's scream and heard sounds of
confused running in different directions.  A few moments later Mr.
Whitney came to my room and informed me of what had occurred, and I
then went with him to the private rooms of Mr. Mainwaring."

"You were associated with Mr. Mainwaring yesterday during the greater
part of the day and evening, were you not?"

"I was during the day, but I did not see him after dinner until late
at night."

"Did you notice anything unusual in his appearance at any time
yesterday?"

"He appeared rather depressed for about an hour after luncheon,
during the execution of the will."

"Did you know any cause for such depression?"

"I attributed it, in my own mind, to the conversation at luncheon,
to which Mr. Whitney has referred."

"Regarding one Richard Hobson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know what, if any, relations existed between Mr. Mainwaring
and this Hobson?"

The black plumes of Mrs. LaGrange's fan suddenly quivered, her cheek
paled, and her breath came and went quickly, but these were the only
signs of agitation which she betrayed, as Scott replied,--

"I have no knowledge as to what relations existed between them of
late.  I only know that Mr. Mainwaring had, years ago, some important
private business with this man."

"Will you state the nature of this business?"

"Without giving exact details," Scott replied, speaking deliberately
but with no hesitation, though conscious of the surprise and
indignation depicted on some of the faces about him, "this man was
employed as an attorney by Mr. Mainwaring before the latter came to
this country, and has since, at various times, extorted money from
him by threats of exposure regarding certain transactions."

The silence that followed this statement was of itself eloquent.
The young secretary felt every eye fastened upon himself, and,
though his own eyes were fixed on the coroner's face, he saw
reflected even there the general expression of mingled astonishment,
incredulity, and resentment.  Unmoved, however, he awaited, coolly
and impassively, the next words of the coroner.

"Mr. Scott," said Dr. Westlake, a touch of severity in his tone,
"this is a serious assertion to make regarding a man so widely known
as Mr. Mainwaring, and so universally considered above reproach in
his business transactions."

"I am aware of that fact, sir," replied Scott, calmly, "but reference
to the private letter-files of Mr. Mainwaring will prove the truth
of my assertion.  I made this statement simply because the time and
place demanded it.  You were endeavoring to ascertain the cause of
Mr. Mainwaring's perturbation on learning yesterday of the arrival
of Hobson.  I have given what I consider the clue."

"How recently had this man Hobson extorted money from Mr. Mainwaring,
and in what amount?"

"The last money sent him was about three years ago, a sum of five
thousand dollars.  Hobson wrote a most insolent letter of
acknowledgment, stating that, as this money would set him on his
feet for a time, he would not write again immediately, but assuring
Mr. Mainwaring that he would never be able to elude him, as the
writer would keep posted regarding his whereabouts, and might, some
time in the future, call upon him in person."

"Can you describe this man's appearance?"

"I cannot, having never met him."

"Will you describe the stranger who is reported to have called in
the afternoon."

"He was tall, quite pale, with dark hair and moustache.  He was
dressed in a tweed suit, somewhat travel-worn, and wore dark
glasses."

"Did he state his errand?"

"Only that he wished to see Mr. Mainwaring on business of special
importance.  He at first seemed rather insistent, but, on learning
that Mr. Mainwaring was out and that he would receive no business
calls for a day or two, he readily consented to defer his interview
until later."

"Did he leave his name or address?"

"His card bore the name of J. Henry Carruthers, of London.  He gave
his present address as the Arlington House."

"You noticed nothing unusual in his appearance?"

"The only thing that struck me as rather peculiar was that Mr.
Carruthers seemed well informed regarding events expected to take
place here, while his name was wholly unfamiliar to Mr. Mainwaring."

At this point a pencilled note was handed by the coroner to Mr.
Whitney, who immediately summoned George Hardy and hastily
despatched him on some errand.

"Mr. Scott," resumed the coroner, "were you in Mr. Mainwaring's
private library at any time during last evening?"

"I was not.  I spent the entire evening in my own room."

"When did you again see Mr. Mainwaring?"

"Not until after eleven o'clock.  I had come down for a smoke in
the grounds outside and met Mr. Mainwaring in the lower hall on
the way to his rooms.  He asked me to come to his library before
retiring, as he wished to give some final directions for the next
day.  About half an hour later I went to the library door, but
hearing loud and angry talk within, I waited in the hall some
fifteen or twenty minutes until I knew Mr. Mainwaring was alone.
I then entered, received his instructions, and went directly to
my room for the night."

"Were you able to recognize the voices or hear any of the
conversation?"

"I was.  I recognized the voice of the housekeeper, Mrs. LaGrange;
but feeling that I was hearing what was not intended for me, I
walked back into the main hall and remained there until Mrs.
LaGrange came out."

"You saw her leave the library?"

"Yes, sir; I passed her in the corridor."

"She saw you, of course?"

"She seemed scarcely conscious of my presence until we had passed;
she then turned and watched me as I entered the library."

"What was the nature of the conversation which you heard?"

"I only heard what Mrs. LaGrange said.  She evidently was very
angry with Mr. Mainwaring."

"Can you repeat her words as you heard them?"

"Not entirely.  She accused Mr. Mainwaring of dishonesty, saying
that he had defrauded his only brother, and had ignored and robbed
his own son to put a stranger in his place.  The last words I heard
were, 'You are in my power, and you know it only too well; and I
will make you and your high-born, purse-proud family rue this day's
work.'"

Harry Scott, with the proof of his employer's crimes in his
possession, repeated these words with an indifference and
impassiveness that seemed unnatural, while the smouldering fire in
his eyes gleamed fitfully, as though he knew some secret of which
the others little dreamed.

But, if spoken indifferently, the words were not received with
indifference.  The reporters bent to their task with renewed ardor,
since it promised developments so rich and racy.  Ralph Mainwaring's
face was dark with suppressed wrath; Mr. Thornton seemed hardly
able to restrain himself; while the attorney grew pale with
excitement and anger.  Mrs. LaGrange alone remained unmoved, as much
so as the witness himself, her eyes half closed and a cynical smile
playing about her lips as she listened to the repetition of her own
words.

"Did Mr. Mainwaring make no reply?" inquired the coroner.

"He did, but it was inaudible to me."

"You went into the library as soon as he was alone?"

"I did."

"At what hour was this?"

"A few minutes past twelve."

"Was that the last time you saw Mr. Mainwaring living?"

"It was."

"Can you state whether any one was in his rooms after you left?"

"I cannot."

"Mr. Scott, by your own statement, you must have been in Mr.
Mainwaring's library within an hour preceding his death;
consequently, I would like you to give every detail of that
interview."

"I am perfectly willing, sir, but there are few to give.  The
interview occupied possibly ten minutes.  Mr. Mainwaring appeared
very weary, and, after giving directions regarding any personal
mail or telegrams which might be received, stated that he wished
me to consider myself his guest on the following day and join in
the festivities of the occasion.  I thanked him, and, wishing him
good-night, withdrew."

"In which room were you?"

"We were both in the library.  When I first entered, Mr. Mainwaring
was walking back and forth, his hands folded behind him, as was
usually his habit when thinking deeply, but he immediately seated
himself and gave me my instructions.  The tower-room was dimly
lighted and the curtains were drawn quite closely together at the
entrance."

"Did you hear any unusual sound after reaching your room?"

"Not at that time.  I was aroused about three o'clock this morning
by what I thought was a stealthy step in the grounds in the rear of
the house, but I listened for a moment and heard nothing more."

"That will do for the present, Mr. Scott.  You will probably be
recalled later," said the coroner, watching the secretary rather
curiously.  Then he added, in a different tone,--

"The next witness is Mrs. LaGrange."

There was a perceptible stir throughout the crowd as, with a
movement of inimitable grace, Mrs. LaGrange stepped forward, darting
a swift glance of such venomous hatred towards Scott, as he again
seated himself beside Miss Carleton, that the latter, with a woman's
quick intuition, instantly grasped the situation and watched the
proceedings with new interest and closer attention.  As Mrs. LaGrange
took her place and began answering the questions addressed to her,
the eager listeners pressed still more closely in their efforts to
catch every word, feeling instinctively that some startling
developments would be forthcoming; but no one was prepared for the
shock that followed when, in response to the request to state her
full name, the reply came, in clear tones, with unequivocal
distinctness,--

"Eleanor Houghton Mainwaring."

For an instant an almost painful silence ensued, until Dr. Westlake
said,--

"Will you state your relation to the deceased?"

"I was the lawfully wedded, but unacknowledged, wife of Hugh
Mainwaring," was the calm reply.

"Please state when and where your marriage took place," said the
coroner, watching the witness narrowly.

"We were married privately in London, about three months before Mr.
Mainwaring came to this country."

"How long ago was that?"

"A little more than twenty-three years."

"You say that you were privately married, and that in all these
years Mr. Mainwaring never acknowledged you as his wife?"

"Yes.  I was at that time a widow, and, owing to certain unpleasant
circumstances attending the last months of my former husband's life,
Mr. Mainwaring insisted that our marriage be strictly private.  I
acceded to his wishes, and we were married as quietly as possible.
At the end of three months he deserted me, and for four years I did
not even know where he had gone.  During that time, however, I
learned that my husband, who had been fearful of soiling his proud
name by having it publicly joined with mine, was, in the sight of
the law, a common criminal.  I finally traced him to America, and
five years after he deserted me I had the pleasure of confronting
him with the facts which I had obtained.  With passionate
protestations of renewed love and fair promises of an honorable
married life, he sought to purchase my silence, and, fool that I
was! I yielded.  He claimed that he could not at once acknowledge
me as his wife, because he was already known as an unmarried man,
but in the near future we would repeat the marriage ceremony and I
should be the honored mistress of his heart and home.  I believed
him and waited.  Meantime, our child was born, and then a new role
had to be adopted.  Had he not known that he was in my power, I
would then have been thrust out homeless with my babe, but he dared
not do that.  Instead, I was brought to Fair Oaks dressed in widow's
garb, as a distant relative of his who was to be his housekeeper.
So, for my son's sake, hoping he would some day receive his rights,
I have lived a double life, regarded as a servant where I should
have been mistress, and holding that poor position only because it
was within my power to put the master of the house in a felon's
cell!"

"Can you produce the certificate of this marriage?" inquired the
coroner, regarding the witness with a searching glance as she
paused in her recital.

"Unfortunately," she replied, in a tone ringing with scorn and
defiance, "I cannot produce our marriage certificate, as my husband
kept that in his possession, and frequently threatened to destroy
it.  If it is in existence, it will be found in his safe; but I can
produce a witness who was present at our marriage, and who himself
signed the certificate."

"State the name of this witness."

"Richard Hobson, of London."

"You are then acquainted with this Hobson?" the coroner inquired,
at the same time making an entry in the memorandum he held.

"Naturally, as he was at one time my husband's attorney."

"He called at Fair Oaks yesterday, did he not?"

"He did."

"Do you know whether he called more than once?"

"He came a second time, in the evening, accompanied by his clerk."

"Was his object at either time to secure an interview with Mr.
Mainwaring?"

"He called to see me on private business."

"Had he any intention of meeting Mr. Mainwaring later?"

"I know nothing regarding his intentions."

"Mrs. LaGrange," said the coroner, after a pause, "you were in Mr.
Mainwaring's library between the hours of eleven and twelve last
night, were you not?"

Her face darkened with anger at his form of address.  "I was in
my husband's library at that hour," she replied.

"How long were you there?"

"I cannot state exactly," she answered, indifferently; "perhaps
half an hour."

"Did Mr. Scott repeat correctly your words to Mr. Mainwaring?"

"I have no doubt that he did.  His memory on the subject is much
better than mine."

"What was the meaning of your threat to Mr. Mainwaring, that you
would make him and his friends regret the day's proceedings?"

"He understood my meaning.  He knew that I could set aside the
will, and could ruin him by exposing his duplicity and fraud."

"What reply did he make?"

"He answered me, as usual, with sneers; but I saw that he felt
somewhat apprehensive.  I wished to give him a little time to
reflect upon a proposition I had made, and I left the library,
intending to return later; but," she added, slowly and significantly,
"I was superseded by another visitor."

"Explain your meaning," said the coroner, briefly.

"My husband's private secretary entered the library directly after
I left.  Some thirty minutes later I passed down the corridor
towards the library, and was startled to hear Mr. Mainwaring, in
loud and excited tones, denouncing some one as a liar and an
impostor.  The reply was low, in a voice trembling with rage, but
I caught the words, 'You are a liar and a thief!  If you had your
deserts, you would be in a felon's cell to-night, or transported
to the wilds of Australia!'  There was much more in the same tone,
but so low I could not distinguish the words, and, thinking Mr.
Mainwaring was likely to be occupied for some time, I immediately
retired to my room."

"Was the voice of the second speaker familiar to you?" inquired
Dr. Westlake, in the breathless silence that followed this statement.

A half smile, both cunning and cruel, played around the lips of the
witness, as she answered, with peculiar emphasis and with a ring
of triumph in her tone,--

"The voice was somewhat disguised, but it was distinctly recognizable
as that of Mr. Scott, the private secretary."

To Scott himself, these words came with stunning force, not so much
for the accusation which they conveyed, as that her recital of those
words spoken within the library seemed but the repetition of words
which had rung in his brain the preceding night, as, alone in his
room, he had, in imagination, confronted his employer with the proof
of his guilt which that afternoon's search had brought to light.
His fancy had vividly portrayed the scene in which he would arraign
Hugh Mainwaring as a thief, and would himself, in turn, be denounced
as an impostor until he should have established his claims by the
indubitable evidence now in his possession.  Such a scene bad in
reality been enacted,--those very words had been spoken,--and,
for an instant, it seemed to Scott as though he had been,
unconsciously, one of the actors.

The general wonder and consternation with which he was now regarded
by the crowd quickly recalled him, however, to the present
situation, and awakened within him a sudden, fierce resentment,
though he remained outwardly calm.

"At that time," continued the coroner, "were you of the opinion
that it was Mr. Scott whom you heard thus addressing Mr.
Mainwaring?"

"Yes, I had every reason to believe it was he, and I have now
additional reasons for the same belief."

"Are these additional reasons founded on your own personal
knowledge, or on the information of others?"

"Upon information received from various members of the household."

"Did you see Mr. Scott leave the library?"

"I did not."

"Can you state about what time you heard this conversation?"

"I went immediately to my room, and there found that it lacked only
ten minutes of one."

"Did you hear any unusual sound afterwards?"

"I did not.  I heard no one in the halls; and Mr. Mainwaring's
apartments were so remote from the general sleeping-rooms that no
sound from there, unless very loud, could have reached the other
occupants of the house."

Further questions failed to develop any evidence of importance, and
the witness was temporarily dismissed.  Glancing at his watch, the
coroner remarked,

"It is nearly time to adjourn, but if Mr. Hardy has returned we
will first hear what he has to report."

As the valet again came forward, Dr. Westlake asked, "Were you able
to learn anything concerning the strangers who were here yesterday?"

"Not very much, sir," was the reply.  "I went to the Arlington first
and inquired for Mr. J. Henry Carruthers, and they told me there
was no such person registered there; but they said a man answering
that description, tall and wearing dark glasses, came into the
hotel last evening and took dinner and sat for an hour or so in the
office reading the evening papers.  He went out some time between
seven and eight o'clock, and they had seen nothing more of him."

"Was Richard Hobson at the Arlington?"

"No, sir; but I went to the Riverside, and found R. Hobson
registered there.  They said he came in in the forenoon and ordered
a carriage for Fair Oaks.  He came back to lunch, but kept his room
all the afternoon.  He had a man with him in his room most of the
afternoon, but he took no meals there.  After dinner Hobson went
out, and nobody knew when he came back; but he was there to
breakfast, and took the first train to the city.  I made some
inquiries at the depot, and the agent said there was a tall man,
in a gray ulster and with dark glasses, who took the 3.10 train
this morning to the city, but he didn't notice him particularly.
That was all I could learn."

As the hour was late, the inquest was then adjourned until ten
o'clock the next morning.  Every one connected with the household
at Fair Oaks was expected to remain on the premises that night; and,
dinner over, the gentlemen, including Mr. Whitney, locked themselves
within the large library to discuss the inevitable contest that
would arise over the estate and to devise how, with the least
possible delay, to secure possession of the property.

Later in the evening Harry Scott came down from his room for a
brief stroll through the grounds.  A bitter smile crossed his face
as he noticed the brightly illumined library and heard the eager,
excited tones within, remembering the dimly-lighted room above with
its silent occupant, unloved, unmourned, unthought of, in marked
contrast to the preceding night, when Hugh Mainwaring lavished upon
his guests such royal entertainment and was the recipient of their
congratulations and their professions of esteem and regard.

As he paced slowly up and down the avenues, his thoughts were not
of the present, but of the past and future.  At the earliest
opportunity that day he had returned to the city, ostensibly, to
attend to some telegraphic despatches, but his main errand had been
to consult with an eminent lawyer whom he knew by reputation, and
in whom both Hugh Mainwaring and Mr. Whitney, in numerous legal
contests, had found a powerful and bitter opponent.  To him Scott
had intrusted his own case, giving him the fullest details, and
leaving in his possession for safe keeping the proofs which were
soon to play so important a part; and Mr. Sutherland, the attorney
retained by Scott, had been present at the inquest, apparently
as a disinterested spectator, but, in reality, one of the most
intensely interested of them all.

CHAPTER VIII

THE WEAVING OF THE WEB

Ten o'clock found an eager crowd assembled in and about the large
library at Fair Oaks, drawn by reports of the sensational features
developed on the preceding day.  The members of the household
occupied nearly the same positions as on the preceding afternoon,
with the exception of the secretary, who had entered the room a
little in advance of the others and had seated himself near the
coroner.

Notwithstanding the glances of doubt and distrust which Scott
encountered, and his own consciousness that suspicion against
himself would deepen as all the facts in the case became known,
he was as impassive as ever.  Even Mr. Whitney was wholly at a
loss to account for the change in the bearing of the secretary.
He was no longer the employee, but carried himself with a proud
independence, as though conscious of some mysterious vantage-ground.

On the other side of the coroner, but conveniently near Scott, was
Mr. Sutherland, while in the rear, commanding a good view of both
gentlemen, as well as of nearly every face in the room, sat Mr.
Merrick, though to a stranger his manner would have implied the
utmost indifference to the proceedings.

The first witness called for by the coroner was Johnson, the butler.
For the first five or ten minutes his testimony was little more
than a corroboration of that given by the valet on the preceding
day, of the discovery of the death of Hugh Mainwaring.

"You say," said the coroner, "that at Mr. Whitney's request you
remained in the upper hall, near the library and within call?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you state how long a time you should think elapsed between
the alarm given by Hardy and the appearance of the entire household,
including both the guests and the servants?"

"Well, sir, Hardy gave the alarm a little after seven.  The servants
were already up and crowded around there immediately, and I should
say that every one, including the ladies, was out within twenty
minutes, or thirty at the latest, with the exception of Mrs. LaGrange
and her son."

"At what time did the latter appear?"

"It must have been considerably after eight o'clock, sir, when she
came to the library in response to a message from Mr. Whitney."

"And her son?"

"I did not see Mr. Walter LaGrange at all during the forenoon, sir."

"How was that?" inquired Dr. Westlake, rather quickly.  "Was he not
at Fair Oaks?"

"I cannot say, sir.  I did not see him until luncheon."

"When did you last see Mr. Mainwaring?"

"A little after eleven o'clock night before last,--Wednesday night,
sir.  I was in the hall as he passed upstairs to his rooms, and I
heard him ask Mr. Scott to come to his library."

"Did there seem to be any coldness or unpleasantness between them?"

"No, sir; they both appeared the same as usual."

"Did any strangers call at Fair Oaks Wednesday aside from those
mentioned yesterday?"

"No, sir."

"Will you describe the strangers who were here, stating when they
called and any particulars you are able to give?"

"The man giving his name as R. Hobson called between eleven and
twelve, Wednesday morning.  He was tall, with thin features, small,
dark eyes, and a very soft voice.  He came in a carriage, inquired
for Mrs. LaGrange, and seemed in considerable haste.  He stayed
about an hour.  The gentleman who called about four in the afternoon
also came in a carriage and inquired for Mr. Mainwaring, saying he
had been directed to Fair Oaks at the city offices of Mainwaring &
Co.  On learning that Mr. Mainwaring was out, he asked for the
secretary; and I took his card to Mr. Scott, who gave directions
to have him shown up into the library.  I do not know when he left.
He was tall, with black hair and moustache and dark glasses."

"Mr. Hobson's call occasioned considerable comment at luncheon, did
it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you observe that it had any effect on Mr. Mainwaring?"

"Well, sir, I thought he appeared considerably annoyed, and after
luncheon he asked me whether Mr. Hobson had inquired for him."

"Did you admit Hobson when he called in the evening?"

"I did not, sir.  I merely met him at the door and directed him to
the south side entrance."

"At Mrs. LaGrange's request?"

"Yes, sir; in accordance with her instructions."

"Did she give any reason for such instructions?"

"Merely that his former call had caused so much remark she wished
to receive him privately."

"Was he alone when he called the second time?"

"No, sir."

"Can you describe the person who accompanied him?"

"No, sir.  The man stood so far in the shadow that I could only see
the outlines of his form.  I should say he was about the same height
as Mr. Hobson, but considerably heavier."

"Do you know at what hour they left?"

"No, sir."

Further questions failing to elicit any facts bearing upon the
situation, the butler was dismissed, and Brown, the coachman, took
his place.  The latter was far less taciturn than the butler,
seeming rather eager to impart some piece of information which he
evidently considered of special importance.

After a few preliminary questions, the coroner said,--

"At what time, and from whom, did you first hear of Mr. Mainwaring's
death?"

"About half-past seven, yesterday morning, sir.  I was a-taking
care of the horses, sir, when Uncle Mose--he's the gardener, sir--he
comes past the stable on his way to the tool-house, and he
tells me that Mr. Mainwaring had been murdered in the night, right
in his own rooms, and then he tells me-"

"How long had you been up and at work in the stables?"

"Before I heard of the murder?  Well, about an hour, I should say.
I generally gets up at six."

"Had you been to the house that morning?"

"No, sir; but I went right up there after seeing Uncle Mose, and I
was in the kitchen telling what I had seen the night before, when
the butler he comes down and said as how Mr. Ralph Mainwaring wanted
me, and that I had better keep my mouth shut till I was asked to
tell what I knew."

"Where were you last Wednesday night?" asked the coroner, rather
abruptly.

Brown looked surprised, but answered readily, "I was out with some
friends of mine.  We all went down to the city together that night
and stayed out pretty late, and it seems a mighty good thing we
did, too."

"Why so?" asked the coroner.

"Well, sir," said Brown, deliberately, glad of an opportunity to
tell his story and evidently determined to make the most of it, "as
I said, we stayed out that night later than we meant to, and I didn't
waste no time getting home after I left the depot.  So, when I got
to Fair Oaks, I thought I'd take the shortest cut, and so I come in
by the south gate, off from the side street, and took the path
around the lake to get to the stables."

"What lake do you mean?" interrupted the coroner.

"The small lake back of the grove in the south part of the grounds.
Well, I was hurrying along through that grove, and all of a sudden
I seen a man standing on the edge of the lake with his back towards
me.  He was very tall, and wore an ulster that came nearly to his
feet, and he looked so queer that I stepped out of the path and
behind some big trees to watch him.  I hadn't no more than done so,
when he stooped and picked up something, and come right up the path
towards me.  The moon was shining, had been up about two hours, I
should say, but his back was to the light and I couldn't see his
face, nor I didn't want him to see me.  After he'd got by I stepped
out to watch him and see if he went towards the house, but he
didn't; he took the path I had just left and walked very fast to
the south gate and went out onto the side street."

"In which direction did he then go?" asked the coroner.

"He went up onto the main avenue and turned towards the town."

"Can you describe his appearance?"

"Only that he was tall and had very black hair; but his face was in
the shadow, so I couldn't tell how he looked."

"What did he pick up from the ground?"

"I couldn't see very plain, but it looked like a small, square box
done up in paper."

"You did not try to call any one?"

"No, sir.  The man didn't go near the house, and I didn't think
much about it until Uncle Mose told me yesterday morning that the
night before he seen--"

"Never mind what he saw; we will let him tell his own story.  Was
that all you saw?"

"No, sir; it wasn't," replied Brown, with a quick side glance
towards Mrs. LaGrange, who occupied the same position as on the
preceding day.  "I was going along towards the stables, thinking
about that man, and all of a sudden I noticed there was a bright
light in one of the rooms up-stairs.  The curtains wasn't drawn,
and I thought I'd see whose room it was, so I walked up towards the
house carefully, and I saw Mr. Mainwaring's secretary.  He looked
awfully pale and haggard, and was walking up and down the room kind
of excited like.  Just then I happened to step on the gravelled walk
and he heard me, for he started and looked kind of frightened and
listened a moment, and then he stepped up quick and extinguished the
light, and I was afraid he'd see me then from the window, so I
hurried off.  But I thought 'twas mighty queer-"

"Mr. Scott was dressed, was he?" interrupted the coroner.

"Yes, sir," Brown answered, sullenly.

"Did you go directly to your room?"

"Yes, sir."

"What time was this?"

"I heard the clock strike three just after I got in."

"You saw or heard nothing more?"

"No, sir."

"You knew nothing of what had occurred at the house until the
gardener told you in the morning?"

"N--yes--no, sir," Brown stammered, with another glance towards
Mrs. LaGrange, who was watching him closely.

"What did you say?" demanded the coroner.

"I said I didn't know what had happened till Uncle Mose told me,"
Brown answered, doggedly.

"That will do," said the coroner, watching the witness narrowly as
he resumed his place among the servants.

During the latter part of Brown's testimony, quick, telegraphic
glances had been exchanged between Scott and Mr. Sutherland, and
one or two slips of paper, unobserved by any one but Merrick, had
passed from one to the other.

Scott was well aware that the statements made by the coachman had
deepened suspicion against himself.  He paid little attention to
the crowd, however, but noted particularly the faces of the guests
at Fair Oaks.  Ralph Mainwaring's, dark with anger; that of the
genial Mr. Thornton coldly averted; young Mainwaring's supercilious
stare, and his sister's expression of contemptuous disdain; and as
he studied their features his own grew immobile as marble.  Suddenly
his glance encountered Miss Carleton's face and was held for a
moment as though under a spell.  There was no weak sentimentality
there, no pity or sympathy,--he would have scorned either,--but
the perfect confidence shining in her eyes called forth a quick
response from his own, though not a muscle stirred about the
sternly-set mouth.  She saw and understood, and, as her eyes fell,
a smile, inexplicable and mysterious, flashed for an instant across
her face and was gone.

"John Wilson," announced the coroner, after a slight pause.

A middle-aged man, rather dull in appearance, except for a pair of
keenly observant eyes, stepped forward with slow precision.

"You are Mr. Ralph Mainwaring's valet, I believe?" said the coroner.

"That I am, sir," was the reply.

"Have you been for some time in his employ?"

The man peered sharply at Dr. Westlake from under his heavy brows,
and replied, with great deliberation, "Nigh onto thirty years, sir."

Then, noting the surprise in his interlocutor's face, he added, with
dignity, "The Wilsons, sir, have served the Mainwarings for three
generations.  My father, sir, was valet to the father of the dead
Hugh Mainwaring, the Honorable Ralph Maxwell Mainwaring, sir."

A smile played over the features of young Mainwaring at these words,
but Scott started involuntarily, and, after studying Wilson's face
intently for a moment, hastily pencilled a few words on a slip of
paper which he handed to Mr. Sutherland, and both watched the
witness with special interest.

His testimony differed little from that given by Hardy and by the
butler.  He stated, however, that, after accompanying Mr. Ralph
Mainwaring to the scene of the murder, the latter sent him to summon
Mr. Scott; but on his way to the young gentleman's room he saw Mr.
Whitney in advance of him, who called the secretary and immediately
returned with him to the library.

"Was Mr. Scott already up when Mr. Whitney called him?" the coroner
inquired, quickly.

"He was up and dressed, sir," was the reply.

Wilson also corroborated the butler's statement that Walter LaGrange
was not seen about the premises until luncheon, and stated, in
addition, that the horse belonging to young LaGrange was missing
from the stables until nearly noon.  Having mingled very little with
the servants at Fair Oaks, he had but slight knowledge concerning the
occurrences of the day preceding the murder.  His testimony was
therefore very brief.

"Katie O'Brien, chambermaid," was next called; and in response a
young Irish woman quietly took her place before the coroner.  She
answered the questions addressed her as briefly as possible, but
with deliberation, as though each word had been carefully weighed.

"Did you have charge of the private rooms of Mr. Mainwaring?"

"Yes, sir."

"You took care of his rooms as usual Wednesday?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you see Mr. Mainwaring during the day or evening?"

"I met him once or twice in the halls."

"When did you last see him?"

"About two o'clock Wednesday afternoon."

"State how you first heard of his death."

"I was working in the halls up-stairs about seven that morning and
heard running back and forth, as if there was trouble.  I went out
into the front hall and met the butler, and he told me Mr. Mainwaring
had been murdered."

"Did you go in to see him at that time?"

"Yes, sir, for a moment."

"Did you notice anything unusual in his rooms?"

"I didn't notice anything unusual in Mr. Mainwaring's rooms."

"Did you in any room?"

"Yes, sir."

"In what one?"

"In Mr. Scott's room, a little later."

"State what you observed."

"A few minutes after I left the library I saw Mr. Scott come out of
his room and go away with Mr. Whitney, and I thought I would go in
and do up the room.  So I went in, but the bed was just as I had
made it up the day before.  It hadn't been slept in nor touched.
Then things was strewn around considerable, and the top drawer of
his dressing-case was kept locked all the forenoon until he went to
the city."

"When did he go to the city?"

"About noon."

"Did you see Mr. Scott the day or evening preceding Mr. Mainwaring's
death?"

"No, sir; but I know he was locked in Mr. Mainwaring's library all
the afternoon, after the folks had gone out driving."

"How do you know the library was locked?"

"I was sweeping in the corridor, and I heard him unlock the door
when the butler came up with some gentleman's card."

"Did you see the gentleman who came up-stairs later?"

"No, sir."

"Did you see Walter LaGrange at any time during yesterday forenoon?"

The witness colored slightly, but replied, "I think I met him once
or twice; I don't remember just when."

"He was away from home part of the time, was he not?"

"I don't know where he was."

Nothing further of importance could be learned from the witness,
and, as it was then past twelve, a short recess was taken until
after lunch.

Scott took his place at the table with the guests, seemingly alike
indifferent to cold aversion or angry frowns.  He was conscious that
Miss Carleton was watching him, her manner indicating the same frank
friendliness she had shown him on the preceding day, and in response
to a signal from her, as they rose from the table, he followed her
into one of the drawing-rooms, joining her in a large alcove window,
where she motioned him to a seat on a low divan by her side.

"You have made a bitter enemy in Mrs. LaGrange," she said, archly;
"and she has marshalled her forces against you."

"Do you think so?" he asked, with an amused smile.

"Certainly.  She displayed her tactics this morning.  I am positive
that much of the testimony was given in accordance with her orders."

"For the most part, however, the witnesses stated facts," Scott
replied, watching her closely.

"Yes; but facts may be so misrepresented as to give an impression
quite the reverse of the truth."

"That is so.  And a misrepresentation having a foundation of truth
is the hardest to fight.  But," he added, in a lighter tone, "all
this testimony against me does not seem to have produced the same
impression upon you that it has upon the others.  Your suspicions
do not seem, as yet, to have been very thoroughly aroused."

"Perhaps my suspicions are as dormant as your own apprehensions.
I fail to detect the slightest anxiety on your part as to the
outcome of this, one way or another."

"No," he replied, after a pause; "I feel no anxiety, only resentment
that circumstances have conspired against me just at this time, and
contempt for people who will be led by appearances rather than their
own judgment."

"People sometimes use very little judgment where their own personal
interests are concerned."

"In that case," said Scott, as they rose to return to the library,