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9
AUGUST 4,133.
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by E. PHILLIPS O?;PENHEIM
(Continued from last week)
"I arz now," the ins.pereto;r 'went
on, "going to make a thorough"kearch
of thea apartment and nue a d of the gardens
natside, 1 prefer to de this by my-
self. el shall then return to Norwich
and make my report. I akn compel-
led to leave one of my men upstairs,
in or near the apartment where Lord
Lakernleam is lying. The other one I
must leave in the billiard room. You
will understand, I am sure, the neces-
sity for such' steps."
'I am quite convinced, Mr. Inspec-
tor," Jernvyn replied, "-that you will
do what you conceive tq,•'be your du-
ty. Our only concede\ must be to
help you in every .possible;' way. If
you will ring the bell as soon as you
have finished your examination of the
billiard room, Robert will be glad' tp
bring you any refreshments. you may
care for."
"I am much obliged, sir."
"And if you do discover anything,"
Jermyn continued suggestively.
"If I should make any discoveries,
or come upon anything likely to indi-
cate a clue," the inspector intervened,
"I am afraid that at this stage of
the proceedings I must keep it entire-
ly to m'ysel'f. The chief constable
will !probably be over to -morrow
'morning early. sir, and I am sure he
will be glad to discuss the matter
with you. Good -night, sir!"
Jermyn hurried back to the library.
Lucille was there alone.
"'Where is 'Siyibil?" he asked quick•
ly"She has gone to her room," 'Luc-
ille i%plied, coming to his side and
drawing her arm through his. "Jer
myn dear, .you must sit down and
rest for a little time. I have told
Roberts to put the decanters on the
sideboard, (Please gilve . me some-
thing to •drink and help yourself."
Jermyn seemed scarcely to hear
her.
"'Gone to her room!" he repeated.
"I want to speak to her. 3 must
speak to her. I can't bear this any
longer. I am going to hold her hands
and pull that wall down. She is go-
ing to tell me everything' and I am
going to tell her that Whatever She
did was right."
She forced hint into a chair and
sat at his feet.
"Jermyn dear," she' insisted, "you
must please be guided by me for a
very short time. You are not your-
self when you talk like that. Sybil
went through her examination beau-
tifully. Ycje azrdl I between us - will -
keep any harm away from her, but
we can only succeed if you keep down
those wild impulses of yours and act
like a rational human being. There
is 'plenty of time in the future for
understandings. For the next few
days what we have to do is to keep,
her safe."
Jermyn sprang suddenly to his feet.
"This is all sophistry!" he cried.
"The truth is always best. I shall
go to her now ' I don't care what the
result array be. If she killed Aynes-
worth she did it in self-defence: The
fellow had drurik too much wine. Hs
had probably insulted her. It served
him right. It would be better for
her, even now, to tell the truth and
have done with it, better to face her
trial and' what may happen to her,
than that she should carry this load
about with her all her life. I will go
to her room. I will make her speak
to me •at once."
Already he was on' his way towards
the door.
"Stop!" Lucille called out.
There was a quality in. her voice
Which commanded his attention. He
turned unwillingly around.
"A single word of what you have
uttered, overheard by that pian in the
billiard room," . Lucille said softly,
"would mean -what do you think -
for Sybil? It would mean an igno-
minious and awful death. Don't look
at 'pre as though I were mad. Be a
man, Jerilyn, and face facts. Sybil
killed Aynesworth not in self-defence
but because he threatened to disclose
a little chapter of her past which she
feared would have ended her rela-
tions with you. 'rhat is the honest,
absolute truth. Very likely she only
meant to frighten him. Certainly it
was only an impulse. But she killed
him. It is 'hard for you to realize
it to -night, but as the days go on
you will know it and understand, If
you go to her now; she is half d•is--
traug.ht, she will listen to what you
have to say, she is ready to take any
advice. She will go downstairs to
that mean. She will say="It is true.
I killed Lord Lakenbam.- He threat-
ened to take a man advantage of
certain knowledge which he possess-
ed. 2 meant to frighten' him into sil-
ence. 1 lost my temper. I, pulled
the trigger of that pistol. It was
such a little thing, I never dreamed
that it would kill hien!" Before her
own conscience she may seem justi-
fied. To you and to me, even, she
may seem justified. But the law will
not think so. The law will hang her!
Be careful, .Jermyn. If you
do a rash thing to -night you may
spend the lest of your life regretting
it,"
The impulse died away. Lucille's
words seethed to burn themselves in-
to his brain. 'Hie came back into the
room. She stole softly to his side.
"Jermynr she whispered, "be brave
dear. She shall be saved. For your
sake, 1 will save her."
OITXPTPR CV
Up in the skies, the stars which
had made the summrer night so bril-
liant were beginni r ; to pale, to fade
away in a nebulous and airy waste.
The deep yellow glow was passing
from the •feee orf the moon. .Jermyn,
who was standing motionless tehincd
a thick clumlr orf laurel bushes,, turn-
ed his head and gazed eastwards,
Surely there was no break in the
clouds. The great white house with
iseit�ta i sees• a 3 rm�°� s a i�4 nam G n ,•.r i
its rows eef dead windows seemted''it-
self to have borrowed from the so-
lemnity, and mystery of the passing
moments. Forty silent, unblinking
eyes gazed out upon a world of
opaleseent hues and shadows. '
One, two, three, four! The braz-
en notes of the stable clock' • seemed
like • an incongruous note from some
alien" world. Jermyn, from behind
his ambush of laurel bushes, stiffen.
ed suddenly and leaned forward. His
eyes were fixed upon a certain win,
dow, Sybil's windovv., the fourth from
the lett on the second story of the
nouse. He was all the time expect-
ing something, yet' exrpecting it with
a sense of excitement which in that
strange solitude he .took no pains to
conceal. A thrush hopped out on to
the dew -soaked lawn, a faint breeze
rustled amongst the leaves of the
trees, the deathly silence was lank -
n. And almost simultaneously the
still monotony of those rows of win-
dows was changed. • A faint light
glimmered in ;the one which he . as
watching. It. was moving abot7 in
the room. It .proceeded obvioysly
from someone carrying a • candle.
Jermyn waited only for' a' few 'sec-
onds and then deserted his post with
swift and silent footsteps. He thread-
ed .the narrow path which ran
rhrough the back of the shrubberies
and pursued it until he reached the
side of the house. There he came
once more to a standstill. Asbefore,
it was one window only -which he
watched -the third from the left, the
window 'of the ante -room adjoining
Lord La'kenham's bedchamber. When
he arrived there it was as all the
others in the front, 'blank and life.
less,' in almost startling contrast to
the steady glow from the windows of
the !bedchamber itself. Jermyn stood
there Wait* and ,holding almost his
breath. The teconds tdragtged. by,
tearing at his nerves with an actual
and physical pain.. Then he saw+the
thing for which he had waited. The
light from Syibil's room was repeated
in the window which he was watch-
ing. It gleamed only for a moment.
Some one had passed by the, window,
holding the candle in their hard.
His vigil was over. Keeping stip
in the shadow of the house, Jermyn
walked along a narrow margin of
turf for some dozen yards or so.
Then he stopped short, .pushed back
the windows of his library and step-
ped in. He turned up with_„steady
fingers the lamp, which 'hid been
burning low. It seemed to him that
his last faint -hope --had passed. Sybil
had gone to the rooms of the dying,
man to plead for her life; even in the
face of the tragedy which was beat-
ing itself out through 'the slow sec-
onds of the night, be found' himself
.tortured with maddening thoughts of
the secret which the dying man was
to, carry with him to the .grave.
Once more the stable clock clang-
ed out. Jermyn fastened the windows
of his room and turned out the lamp.
Then he slowly opened the door and
crossed the hall. A light had' been
left burning there' but it was almost
out. The place seemed•full of unseen
spaces and the great staircase was
only dimly visible. Very slowly Jer-
myn ascended.'
'He Peached the second landing and
turned to the right, making his way
along a 'broad corridor. On either
side of him were closed doors; ev-
erywhere around the mysterious sil-
ence of sleep. About half -way. down
the corridor was a turning to the left
and as he neared it he became con-
scious of a little current of air. He
moved even more cautiously. He
came at last to a complete standstill.
There was a short passage, an open
window, a small balcony. On the
balcony Lucille was standing.
For several seconds. he remained
motionless. . Her back was towards
him, and she was. looking out over
the gardens, looking towards the
laurel ibushes behind which he had
spent a portion of the night. Jermyn
made no sound, even his breathing
was almost inaudible, yet Lucille,
seemingly conscious of his presence,
slowly turned her head.
"You!" she whispered.
He moved slowly towards her. lie
stood 'by her side upon -the little stone
balcony.
"Yes, it is I, Lucille," ` he said.
"Listen!"
iHe caught her disengaged hand ;
the other was gripping the rail of
the balcony. For a few seconds they
stood so, their faces turned toward,
the main corridor. There was no
sound to be heard. Lucille sighed. Al-
ready her first terror seemed to be
passing,
"You Piave not been to bell," she
murmured, glancing at his attire.
"How Gould one sleep," he answer-
ed, "on such a night!"
She looked down at the dew upon
his patent shoes and at the splashes
cr wet upon his 'coat.
"You have been out!" she exclaim-
ed_
"in the gardens only."
"Watching?"
He shrugged his shoulders. His
face was utterly expressionless.
"What would I watch for?" he
muttered. "Is there anything which
wo do not know?"
Sha" ieanedl""forward and looked a-
long the front of the house. She
looked at !the window which iw'ae
fourth from the end. It was within
a few yards of then. There was
something significant in her look, but
after his first shivering apprehension
of it he turned his head and gazed
away over the tree -tops.
"`The dawn comes," he reminded
her, "Semi the servants will be a-
stir."
She drew her rose-colored dressing
gown a little closer around her.
"You are right,' she said, "I must
go, I could not sleep -the whole
thing is too awful. I am not sure,
Jermtyn, whether I am doing right."
"What do you ;,mean?" he asked
hoarsely.
She held up her 'finger. They 'both
of them seemed transformed into the
likeness of stone. images. Their fac-
es were turned towards the corridor.
The neon's hand gripped the rail
of the balcony more tightly than ev-
er. Without a doubt, the, sound which
they both heard was the sound of soft
footsteps. and the trailing of a light
gown. A]anost they held their breath.
The footsteps came nearer and near-
er, Without turning her head Sybil,
passed alongathe corridor, Sybil in a
Ring white dressing gown, her fair
hair bound up with white ribbon. She
was gone in a. moment. She ,passed
without looking to the right or the
left, without any consciousness of the
man and woman who watched. The
sound of her footsteps ceased. The
door of her room was softly opened
and closed. Lucille shrugged her
shoulder's very slightly. She gazed
into her companion's face. .
"You knew that she had been to
hint/?" she, Whispered.
"I knew!"
"You watched from the gardens?"
He pointed below.
"I was behind those laurel, }bushes
for more than two hours," he said.
"I saw the light in her window, I saw
it again flash as she passed through
the ante -roans" r -
"One cannot help but pity' her,"
Lucille murmured. "Think of the ag-
ony of her night! It was. her one
hope -she went to plead for his
silence. If he recovers consciousness,
Jermyn, do you believe that he will
tell the truth before he dies?"
"I do not ',know," he answered.
"How could any one tell what a man
in his state would do?"
!Lucille drew her dressing 'gown
around her and shivered.,. The sky in
the east" was red now and the dew
lay upon the lawns like frost. In
the woods which stretched away from
the house the thrushes were singing.
The'stable clock clanged again.
"It is morn] ig," he said.
•She laid her fingers upon his arum.
Her face was 'very close to his. Her
expression hail'' softened. In this
strange, ghostly ,light she was beau-
tiful in a weird; witchlike way.of her
t'
own.
"What are you going to do about
Sybil in the future?" she demanded
under her breath. "I ask you be-
cause I must know."
Again he shook .his .head..
"For two hours last night, in my
stu ;' he siad slowly, "I asked my -
se that question. Down there a
mongst the laurel bushes I watchee,'
the moon rise above the, trees and
saw it grow pale, and I, asked antyseif
nothing but that one question. I do
not know -indeed, Lucille, I do not
know."
!She took his arm. Together they
looked out upon this strange, fantas-
tic world of trees and shado,vs, of
landscape, hung with a mauve light
"Do you remember," she whisper-
ed, "when we were motoring in the
Black Forest last August, you and 1
and my mother? You drove all
through the night to avoid the heat,
and she slept. It was something like
this. We had first the moonlight and
then the spectral light, the lavender
and 'grey twilight. There was just
this same chilly feeling before the
sunrise. I asked you a question
then."
• "I remember," he answered uneas-
ily. .
"It is when the world sleeps that.
one can think," she wen: on. "Can't,
you feel it? When every one
laughing and talking and 'breephing
the air around us it seems almost int•
,possible to see things clearly. It is
in these long, still hours that one sees
tha truth. I, too, have been sleepless
to -night, Jermyn. 1, too, have beer
thinking. Some of my impulses have
grown weak.' Second thoughts' have
come to me."
"\Vhat do you mean?" he demand-
ed.
She turned and pointed down stile
corridor.
"J have been asking myself," ,she
said, "what •'There i, that I owe to
that girl or•to you that 1 should per-
jure myself to drive' her into you,.
arms? Why should I shield her? An-
swer' me that.-- She ha: killed a man.
Whether she had justili •ation or no:,
matters nothing to !t e. Let th,
courts deride that. I hate her! Now
tell me, Jermyp-an- v r me lonest-
Iy-why should 1 shield !ter?"
"Because' you arc bnt'r women," he
answered, "hecausc sew know that 1
love her, 'because it it splendid of
you,"
•She latigheri very soft;y but it was
a laugh which made .i(e myn shivef,
"Jermyn," she said,. ":fn hack again
to that night I spoke n, in the Black
Forest" I asked you a question then,
You were not very kin•i to me but I
--I have never changed.",
"Lucille!" he begged.
"Kush! These air, 'he hours in
which one speaks the it pith. Plenty of
nren have told nic th'rt they eared.
Jermyn, plenty of me:r whorl the
world in which I live le:At finrl more
attractive than you, .1nd I wanted
you. I always have wanted you. It's
the tiger in mei, I'strl','ose, to want
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"'Or what ?"• -
"Or if -I' keep silent, why khoii,4
'I not exact to 1priee?" •
• "Lucille, you are talking wildly,'
be declared. "Youe have been so,
•splen'did, so brave, so heli fol. 'You
could not go back upon your words!'
"But indeed I could," she told him,
Now listen, Jernzyna I am .going to
my room. At eight o'clock you m,uet
•come to hie. By that time J shall
have 'matte up my mind Only hush
not a word now. I have fiais1ted.
-Dear, how cold and pale you are!"
htr took his face suddenly between
be hands and kissed him: on the lip. s.
Then she passed noiselessly away. He
waited until he heard the door of Ler
room open and close. Then he retrac-
ed his steps along the corridor. turn-
ed to the left • and 'paused before a
door in the east wing. It waa the
riom at which he had gazed from le -
'.ow -the third window on the •;eft.
Very slowly he, turned the handle of
the door and entered. •.
'CHAPTER XVI
The room through which ,Jermyn
passed- was dark and empty; but in
the chamber beyond, the best in the
house, as,became the pomp and cir-
cumstance of his position, Henry Ayn-
esweeth, Marquis of Lakenhanr, lay
dying. Jeymyn, who was admitted.
only after he had knocked softly
twig;,•, stood" for a moment upon the
threshold of this fateful apartment.
The surgeon from Norwich had ar-
rived and was talking in earnest whis-
pers with Dr. Brownrigg. A nurse
whom he had brought with him sat
by the bedside. The man who lay
there seemed to have turned his face
to the wall.' He was either sill ,un-
conscious or he slept. There was no
soundrin the room save the faint mur-
mur o,f voices as the two physicians
talked together. Jermyn came slow-
ly over towards them, They moved
a little apart at his entrance.' '
"There is no change?" Jermyn ask-
ed.
"None," Dr. Brownrigg replied.
"Physi'ca'lly, there will be none until
the end." '
"He mist' die, then?"
"He must certainly die."'
"Has he spoken to any -one?"
IThe two doctors exchanged glanc-
es. It was Dr. Brovvnrigg who an-
swered.
"He has spoken to no one, Sir
Jermyn," he said. "Miss Cluley has
been here, begging to be allowed to
sit •by his beside, but the inspector ex-
acted a promise from .me that if he
refrained from putting a man in the
room, I should allow no.one to enter
it save myself and the necessary at-
tendants, I hope you will explain to
Miss Cluley, Sir Jermyn, that I was
compelled, to keep my word.'r
"•I• -'quite understand," Jeinnyn re-
plied. "and I ami sure Miss Cluley
will, Naturally, she. feels the shock
very much. She told me that • she
hoped to be allowed to see him before
the end."
The doctor bowed.
"The young lady was in great dis-
tress," he said, "and it was very pain-
ful for me to have to refuse her re-
quest. Under the circumstances,
however, thee• svgs no alternative."'
9 am..__. , su she will understand,"
Jermyn declared. "There is nothing
Tore, I suppose," he added, with a
hesitating glance towards the bcd.
"that .can be done?"
"Nothing," 'the surgeon answered.
"We have' eased his pain --we could
do no more. He may live for a few
pours but he will grow weaker all
the time." . -
"No longer than that?" Jermyn.
murmured.
"No longer than that." the surgeon
reiterated. '
A slight sound carne from the bed.
Jermyn turned his head. The man
who lay there had opened his eyes
and was watching. The nurse was
htnding over him.
"I think," Oise said, turning around
•`that he wants to speak to..you, sir,"
Jermyn made his way slowly to the
hedside. His heart was thumping.
They were all iisteninge • Perhaps
this was a foolish thing which he had
done! The man who lay there vas
pitifully changers. kie-•hail been a coarse,
Hilly, red-faced giant a few hours a-
go. Now he seemed to have shrunk-
en. His cheeks. had fallen in, his
eyes -under his hairy eyebrows seem -
:,.1 to have become almost fixed in a
glassy- stare. His voice, loud and
stentorian, the voice which .Jormyn
had hated, was almost a whisncr, yet
even as a whisper it seemed to pre-
serve its discordant effect. ,
"1'm done. .Jermyn!" '
"Not a bit of it," Jermyn declared
with hastily -assumed cheerfulness.
"Nothing "is certain, nowadays. A
specialist is on his way hero. V.e
are hoping that he will he able to do
eomcthing for you."
"I telt you I'm done," the man 011
th ' lied repeated, almost sullenly. "I
know. .11en always knniv when they
are dying."
-,"\N rdon't believe it," Jermyn as:
serterl. "Still. if there is any one
you would wish to'4e•e--
"Not at soul," Lakerviani 'muttered.
„There's no one -=-who'll care a clanr.
• There's no ono I care -a damn about!
I used -to think you were a fool.
.lernyn-to keep the women at ar•nl'S
length, 1 believe -you're right,
They're devils!"
'•Jerm.yn looked half wildly around,
The doctors were both standing with-
in earshot, What was the man about
to say!
"Don't talk if it iliktfesse` you,"
he, begged. "There will be more
chance for you if you lie still."
Lakenham op^ned- his lips and
closed them again. The nurse hent
over him and wiped his forehead.
.Jermyn motioned her nervously a-
way. He pointed to the corner of
the room. She oheyrd him with rr
significant glance towards the rlortnr.
'"1 can't -make up my mind," TAR.
en -ham went on painfully, "whether to
tell the truth -o[ not. The doctors
have been ,preseing^ mo hard. tVhilst
-.I lay here dozing. J heard them
epeale--of the police. Yoti don't want
--the police in the hbusc-do you,
"Terme n,?" -
"Nothing of that sort Matters very
much," Jermlyn replied calmly. "If
ulc
im len are
0.0 clue'
doctors approached 1
• waved elereayn. away.
'*You hada betterleave hini i,
he 'whipper,. . ,; - • '
"Ilse wanto .tell, mae somethin l"
ermlyn exelaineed hoarsely, "t1 dont'
i:n1k that I had abetter go..aw,ay
e' ould rather tell true-tli,ati any snte.;
Ile is going to tell us who shot. hem!"
The doctor shook'his head' graitely.
"There is no question about `his . ;
telling anybody anything more," he
said. "Lord ' Ieakenhant is ,passing'
anvay. Iia will never open his lips
again." '
CHAPTER XVII
Perhats, in its way, the final shock
of Lakenham°s death brought with it
a certain grim sense .of relief; • an
end, •at any rate, of the terrible ten-
sion of the last few hours. Jermyn
made 'his way unsteadily into his own
bedroom, and threw himself upon the
sofa. For an hour .or. so he dozed. At
seven o'clock a servant brought him
some 'tea. Afterwards, mechanically
he took a bath and • ehachiged his
clothes. At eight o'clock he knocked
at the door of the Bitting .r.00m of
Lucille's little snitee ' Her maid' ad-
mitted him at once. Lucille herself,
fully dressed in plain dark clothes,
was sitting at her table, writing let -
Sere. Her eyes followed the disap-
pearing figure of the maid. As soon
as the door was closed she leaned
towards Jermyn.
"It is all over, then?" she whisper-
ed. ""He is dead?" •
"He is dead!"
She drew a little breath. Her tone
was- unsteady.
"Has he told the truth?" she asked
eagerly. c'Is any one implicated??
Did he say anything to you?."
Jermyn shook his head.
"He has made no.statement at all,"
he replied. "He spoke to .me. He
was hesitating as to how much he
should tell. Even as he was hesitat-
ing he died."
"You a're sure that he told the doc-
tors nothing whilst you were out of
the room?"
"I am quite sure."
Lucille sat for a few minutes with
her eyes half closed. Her lips mov-
ed even
as though ehe. were speaking
to herself: Then she drew a long
sigh and rose to her feet. She went
over to Jermyn and, passing, her arni
through his, led ,him to any easy -
chair. A coffee tray stood upon the
table.
"Jermyn dear," she said, a'I want
you to -try' and pull yourself together.
I know 'that .this has all been very
horrible. You have had two shocks
-the tragedy of spoor Aynesworth's
death under your own roof, and the
tragedy of that terrible secret. You
wi1T-Tia've- fine li"pian "Ftid 'face it,
Jermyn. 'There is no other way. We
shall need all our courts , both you
and I, if that secret isr tribe proper-
ly kept."
He lifted his eyes to hers. There
were black rims underneath them and
his cheeks seemed to have become
hollower. The shock had aged him.
"I shall face it," he assured her.
"There is no doubt about that. The
question which concerns me most for
the .present is what you are going to
She busied herself, for a moment,
making some coffee. Then she'turn-
ed and looked at hint steadfastly.
"Jermyn," she said, "all the excite-
ment of the last few hours seems to
have left nee nerveless. I 'can talk
quite calmly now of things which, in
themselves, sound terrible. 1 ant go-
ing to make a :bargain with you."
"1 a?h, going• to speak the naked
truth," she ~went on. `Some of the
things I shall say you may not like.
Nevertheless. listen patiently. 1 have
no love for Sybil Cluley, You are an
idealist, Jermyp, and all your days
you will he a little out of touch with
a World which has been fashioned by
practical pecple, and whose main
road; and.byways lead to the obvious
:laces. Srhil Cluley is just a little
girl upon the stage, who .has been
clever enough to behave rlreently- most
of •her day'Is, and woman enouktdb,j
when. one of her secrets has been
found out, to -strike hard for herself
'and her future. She isn't what' you
think her, J‘rinlyn• She isn't any-
thing' at all wonderful. She would
have made yqu a good little wife, I
dare say, and prob'ahly she would
have settled down here quite con-
tentedly. She might even Inc:hien
faithful to you. But beyond that she
wasn't in the least like the woman you
ni�glit to marry."
• "I am listening patiently," he re-
marked, "hut T do not agree with a
single word. The woman whom a
mean ought to marry is tic+ woman
who, in 'pure mysterious way, has
made for herself a place which no
other yi•otran could make in the'heart
of the man who ''covets her. There is
nn universal standard of suitability
•--you must know that yourself very
well ---or ail mem would desir; the
-ante women. I feel fm' Sybil what
I have felt for no one else in my life,
what I shall never feel for any lithe"
woman. i cainot listen to a single
worrl against her. I do not b. Neve
single Iwird against her!"
She leaned' a little forward. e
"You helieve-in your heart you
know that she killed Aynesw.irth!"
.Jermyn opened his lips and closed
then again. She lean:d a little clos-
er still.
"1 ani not cure, even," she went on,
watching him closely, "that Aynes-
worth, if' he spoke to you et ;,II, dirt
not let fall some word: did not. di-
'Toth- or !nd•irect!y,•eonfirm this.''
Jermyn covered his face with his
hanrls, A sudden light flash''c1 in
T,ucille's eye. When Jri inyn looked
up the lines in his face seemed deep -
or.
"Lucille," he said, "is this worth
while between you and me? Since
rou force me to it, then, supposing
T admit that Sybil did kill him? It
was. done in an imipulse of madness.
You do not for a moment suppose
that I shall not protect her with all
my power, by every means I possess."
7
T ORON
wfI1R pee Pik
"Nothing that you can, el4,1 s
replied, "will be of ,ala'y' liegeTtf
:choose to speak out."
"But you won't!"
On certain 'terms I shall. pt '
she aslented. "If • you refuse. paa11 ,'
terms 1 shall tell the . trutl'i." . • ,
the 1$orked at her doulbtfully, 'still,.
without complete understanding,.. -
"An hour or so ago," she continued
dropping: her voicea little, 'soiree-
thing in the conning of the .,morning
from behind the woods carried' ire
back tothe past so overwheilnting]y
that I was compelled to speak to you
of a moment which I . have thought
of always in mry heart with shame.I mean the moment when .I begged
for a little of your love. No, don't
move away. This hurts you to Iisten
to, perhaps, but you must listen.
When you told me that you were go-
ing to marry Sybil leluleryr you gave
me the cruellest shock• of my life.
There was nothing left for me. I am
not one of those who can distribute
affection, Jermyn. When I love as I •
Iove you, ass God knows I love you,
there can be no other man in the
world, there can be no life worth lire-
ing without you, there can be noth-
ing but misery. Sit still. you ?must
bean me to the end. Twenty-four
hours ago it was all over with me: I
couldn't even make up my mind what
I should do -with the wretched frag-
ments of my life. i simply didn't ..
care. Wherever I looked I could see
no single ray of joy or happiness, or
anything approaching it.' The one •
thing which alone I desired, hopeless
as it seemed then, was te. separate
you and Sybil Cluley. Fate has done
that for me."
• iHe moved uneasily in his chair.
She held out her hand.
"I know what you are thinking,"
she went on. "I have brought you
face to 'face with your own problem.
You are wondering and wondering.
Now listen.' I am going to salve that
proiblern, for you. I am going to give
you •no chance of heroism If you
want to 'save this girl from the scaf-
fold you must marry me, and.marry
rile quickly."
He sprang to' his• feet.
"Lucille!" he cried. ^ "LueilleP'
She rose slowly. She.looked at .
him, looked at•,ihim long and steadily
and his heart sank.
'That is the price of my silence,"
she told hini deliberately. "I •haste no
liking, no sympathy for Sybil Cluley.
If I ani compelled to speak, she will
very likely escape the death sentence.
She might make a jury believe that
she killed Aynesworth in defence of
her honor. She is clever enough, X
dare say. But even if ,she is fortun-
ate, she will spend the best years of
her youth in prison. I think, Jermyn
that yiu will save her .from that;"
It was significant of the conviction
which her words carried that Jermyn
attempted no argument.
"You are cruel!" he muttered.
(Continued next•week.)
LONDON AND. WINGHAM
South.
P.M.
Winghani 1.55
Beigrave 2.11
Blyth 2.23
Londesboro 2.30.
Clinton ' 3.08 "
Brucefield 3.27 -
Kippen ., 3.35
Hensall • ' •3.41
Exeter 3.55
North.
A.M.
Exeter 10.42
Hensall 10.55
Kippen 11.01.,
Brueefield 11.09
Clinton 11/54
Londesboro ,, 12.10
Blyth 12.19
Belgrave 12.30
`Vin.gham • 12.50
' C. N. R.
East:
A.M. P.M.
Gnderich "6.45 2.30
Clinton 7.08 3.00
Seaforth 7.22' 3.18
Dublin 7.33 8.31
Mitchell 7.42 3.43
West
14uhlin ..... 11.19 9.32
Seaforth 11..4 9.45
Clinton 11.50 9.59
Goderich 12.10 10.25
C. P. R`, TIMiE TABLE
East.
A.M.
Goclet'iclr 5.50
Menset 6.55
McGaw 6.01
Auburn 6.11
Blyth 6.25
Walton 6.40
McNaught 6.52
Toronto 10.25
'l West.
A.M. •
Toronto 7.40 •
McNaught 11.48
Wal tion ..........• .. 12.01'
Blyth 12.12 .
Auburn. • ,,.,, 12.23
McGaw 12.34
Menset ..... 12:41 "
Gederich ' 'Wit
'£
' 1403A1.
J
Beattie
one NO. 91
JOHN J. StJGGARD
Barrister, Solietor,
a: •
". Notary Public, Etc.
block - - Seaforth, Ont.
HAYS & MEIR
Succeeding Re S. Hays
Barristers, Solicitors, Conveyancers
and Notaries Public. Solicitors for.
the Dominion Bank. Office in rear of
the Dominion Batik, Seaforth. Money
b loan
BEST & BEST.
Barristers, Solicitors, Conveyan-
cers and Notaries Public, Etc. Office
in the Edge Building, opposite The
Exposi'bor Office. -
VETERINARY
JOHN GRIEVE, V.S.
Honor graduate of Ontario Veterin-
ary College. All diseases of domestic
animals treated. Galls promptly at-
tended to and charges moderate. et -
winery 'Dentistry a specialty. re
deuce o • God rid .
and reals ,
n e h Stree£°`8"ne.
door east of Pr. Mackay''s office, 'Sea -
forth. '"
. A. R. CAMPBELL, V.S.
Graduate of Ontario -Veterinary
College, University of Toronto. All
diseases of domestic animals treated
by the most - modern principles.
Charges reasonable. Day or night
calls promptly attended to. Office on
Main Street, Hensel], opposite Town
Hall. Phone 116. Breeder of Soot
tisk Terries, Inverness Kennels,
Sensall.
e
.,
MEDICAL
t
,
DR. E. J. R. FORSTER
Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat
Graduate in Medicine„ University of
Toronto.
Late assistant New York Opthal-
mei and Aural Institute, Moore -field's
Eye and Golden Square Throat Hos-
pitals, London, Eng. At Commercial
Betel,- Seaforth, third Monday .in
each '`*nonth, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.
68 Waterloo Street, South,' Stratford.
•
DR. W. C. SPROAT
Graduate of Faculty of Medicine,
'University of Western Ontario. Lon-
don. Member of College of Physic -
fans and Surgeons of Ontario. Office
in Aberhart's Drug Store, Main St.,
Seaforth. Phone 90.
• DR. F. J. BURROWS
Office and residence Goderich Street,
east of the . United Church, Sea -
forth. Phone 46. Coroner for the
County of Huron.
Dr. C.• MACKAY
C. Mackay, honor graduate of Trin-
ity University, and gold medalist of
Trinity Medical College; member of
the College of Physicians and Sur-
geons of Ontario.
DR. H. HUGH ROSS
Graduate of University of Toronto
Faculty of Medicine, member of Col-
lege of Physicians and Surgeons of
Ontario; •pass 'graduate courses in
Chicago Clinical School of Chicago;
Royal Ophthalmie Hospital, London,.
England; University Hospital, Lon-
don, England. Office -Back of Do-
minion Bank, Seaforth. Phone No. 6.
Night calls answered .,from residence,
Victoria Street, Seaforth.
DR. S. R. COLLYER
•
Graduate Faculty of Medicine, Uni-
versity of Western Ontario. Member
College of Physicians and •Surgeons
of Ontario. Post graduate work at
New York City Hospital and Victoria
Hospital, London. Phone: Hensall,
66. 'Office, King Street, Hensall. ,
'
F
DR. J. A. MUNN
Graduate of Northwestern. Univers-
ity, Chicago, I11. Licentiate Royal
College of Dental Surgeons, Toronto.
Office over Sills' Hardware, Main St.,
Seaforth. ,Phone 151.
DR. F. J. BECHELY
Grad•ilate Royal College of Dental
Surgeons, Toronto. Office over W. R
Shnith's 'Grocery', Main Street Sea-
foriih, Phone; Office, 185W; resi-'
diene, 185J.
AUCTIONEERS
OSCAR KLOPP
Honey? Graduate Carey Jones' Ne-
tional School for Auotioneering, Chi-
cago. Special course taken in Pure
Bred Live Stook, , RetT Estate, Mer-
cltandiee and Farm Sales. Rates it
keeping with pt'evailitl'g'markets. Sat-
isfawetion assure&. Write or 'Aire
Oscar $rloppi, Zurich, Ont., ]"hove
lis -99. :•
tt
:�taf
ese
by E. PHILLIPS O?;PENHEIM
(Continued from last week)
"I arz now," the ins.pereto;r 'went
on, "going to make a thorough"kearch
of thea apartment and nue a d of the gardens
natside, 1 prefer to de this by my-
self. el shall then return to Norwich
and make my report. I akn compel-
led to leave one of my men upstairs,
in or near the apartment where Lord
Lakernleam is lying. The other one I
must leave in the billiard room. You
will understand, I am sure, the neces-
sity for such' steps."
'I am quite convinced, Mr. Inspec-
tor," Jernvyn replied, "-that you will
do what you conceive tq,•'be your du-
ty. Our only concede\ must be to
help you in every .possible;' way. If
you will ring the bell as soon as you
have finished your examination of the
billiard room, Robert will be glad' tp
bring you any refreshments. you may
care for."
"I am much obliged, sir."
"And if you do discover anything,"
Jermyn continued suggestively.
"If I should make any discoveries,
or come upon anything likely to indi-
cate a clue," the inspector intervened,
"I am afraid that at this stage of
the proceedings I must keep it entire-
ly to m'ysel'f. The chief constable
will !probably be over to -morrow
'morning early. sir, and I am sure he
will be glad to discuss the matter
with you. Good -night, sir!"
Jermyn hurried back to the library.
Lucille was there alone.
"'Where is 'Siyibil?" he asked quick•
ly"She has gone to her room," 'Luc-
ille i%plied, coming to his side and
drawing her arm through his. "Jer
myn dear, .you must sit down and
rest for a little time. I have told
Roberts to put the decanters on the
sideboard, (Please gilve . me some-
thing to •drink and help yourself."
Jermyn seemed scarcely to hear
her.
"'Gone to her room!" he repeated.
"I want to speak to her. 3 must
speak to her. I can't bear this any
longer. I am going to hold her hands
and pull that wall down. She is go-
ing to tell me everything' and I am
going to tell her that Whatever She
did was right."
She forced hint into a chair and
sat at his feet.
"Jermyn dear," she' insisted, "you
must please be guided by me for a
very short time. You are not your-
self when you talk like that. Sybil
went through her examination beau-
tifully. Ycje azrdl I between us - will -
keep any harm away from her, but
we can only succeed if you keep down
those wild impulses of yours and act
like a rational human being. There
is 'plenty of time in the future for
understandings. For the next few
days what we have to do is to keep,
her safe."
Jermyn sprang suddenly to his feet.
"This is all sophistry!" he cried.
"The truth is always best. I shall
go to her now ' I don't care what the
result array be. If she killed Aynes-
worth she did it in self-defence: The
fellow had drurik too much wine. Hs
had probably insulted her. It served
him right. It would be better for
her, even now, to tell the truth and
have done with it, better to face her
trial and' what may happen to her,
than that she should carry this load
about with her all her life. I will go
to her room. I will make her speak
to me •at once."
Already he was on' his way towards
the door.
"Stop!" Lucille called out.
There was a quality in. her voice
Which commanded his attention. He
turned unwillingly around.
"A single word of what you have
uttered, overheard by that pian in the
billiard room," . Lucille said softly,
"would mean -what do you think -
for Sybil? It would mean an igno-
minious and awful death. Don't look
at 'pre as though I were mad. Be a
man, Jerilyn, and face facts. Sybil
killed Aynesworth not in self-defence
but because he threatened to disclose
a little chapter of her past which she
feared would have ended her rela-
tions with you. 'rhat is the honest,
absolute truth. Very likely she only
meant to frighten him. Certainly it
was only an impulse. But she killed
him. It is 'hard for you to realize
it to -night, but as the days go on
you will know it and understand, If
you go to her now; she is half d•is--
traug.ht, she will listen to what you
have to say, she is ready to take any
advice. She will go downstairs to
that mean. She will say="It is true.
I killed Lord Lakenbam.- He threat-
ened to take a man advantage of
certain knowledge which he possess-
ed. 2 meant to frighten' him into sil-
ence. 1 lost my temper. I, pulled
the trigger of that pistol. It was
such a little thing, I never dreamed
that it would kill hien!" Before her
own conscience she may seem justi-
fied. To you and to me, even, she
may seem justified. But the law will
not think so. The law will hang her!
Be careful, .Jermyn. If you
do a rash thing to -night you may
spend the lest of your life regretting
it,"
The impulse died away. Lucille's
words seethed to burn themselves in-
to his brain. 'Hie came back into the
room. She stole softly to his side.
"Jermynr she whispered, "be brave
dear. She shall be saved. For your
sake, 1 will save her."
OITXPTPR CV
Up in the skies, the stars which
had made the summrer night so bril-
liant were beginni r ; to pale, to fade
away in a nebulous and airy waste.
The deep yellow glow was passing
from the •feee orf the moon. .Jermyn,
who was standing motionless tehincd
a thick clumlr orf laurel bushes,, turn-
ed his head and gazed eastwards,
Surely there was no break in the
clouds. The great white house with
iseit�ta i sees• a 3 rm�°� s a i�4 nam G n ,•.r i
its rows eef dead windows seemted''it-
self to have borrowed from the so-
lemnity, and mystery of the passing
moments. Forty silent, unblinking
eyes gazed out upon a world of
opaleseent hues and shadows. '
One, two, three, four! The braz-
en notes of the stable clock' • seemed
like • an incongruous note from some
alien" world. Jermyn, from behind
his ambush of laurel bushes, stiffen.
ed suddenly and leaned forward. His
eyes were fixed upon a certain win,
dow, Sybil's windovv., the fourth from
the lett on the second story of the
nouse. He was all the time expect-
ing something, yet' exrpecting it with
a sense of excitement which in that
strange solitude he .took no pains to
conceal. A thrush hopped out on to
the dew -soaked lawn, a faint breeze
rustled amongst the leaves of the
trees, the deathly silence was lank -
n. And almost simultaneously the
still monotony of those rows of win-
dows was changed. • A faint light
glimmered in ;the one which he . as
watching. It. was moving abot7 in
the room. It .proceeded obvioysly
from someone carrying a • candle.
Jermyn waited only for' a' few 'sec-
onds and then deserted his post with
swift and silent footsteps. He thread-
ed .the narrow path which ran
rhrough the back of the shrubberies
and pursued it until he reached the
side of the house. There he came
once more to a standstill. Asbefore,
it was one window only -which he
watched -the third from the left, the
window 'of the ante -room adjoining
Lord La'kenham's bedchamber. When
he arrived there it was as all the
others in the front, 'blank and life.
less,' in almost startling contrast to
the steady glow from the windows of
the !bedchamber itself. Jermyn stood
there Wait* and ,holding almost his
breath. The teconds tdragtged. by,
tearing at his nerves with an actual
and physical pain.. Then he saw+the
thing for which he had waited. The
light from Syibil's room was repeated
in the window which he was watch-
ing. It gleamed only for a moment.
Some one had passed by the, window,
holding the candle in their hard.
His vigil was over. Keeping stip
in the shadow of the house, Jermyn
walked along a narrow margin of
turf for some dozen yards or so.
Then he stopped short, .pushed back
the windows of his library and step-
ped in. He turned up with_„steady
fingers the lamp, which 'hid been
burning low. It seemed to him that
his last faint -hope --had passed. Sybil
had gone to the rooms of the dying,
man to plead for her life; even in the
face of the tragedy which was beat-
ing itself out through 'the slow sec-
onds of the night, be found' himself
.tortured with maddening thoughts of
the secret which the dying man was
to, carry with him to the .grave.
Once more the stable clock clang-
ed out. Jermyn fastened the windows
of his room and turned out the lamp.
Then he slowly opened the door and
crossed the hall. A light had' been
left burning there' but it was almost
out. The place seemed•full of unseen
spaces and the great staircase was
only dimly visible. Very slowly Jer-
myn ascended.'
'He Peached the second landing and
turned to the right, making his way
along a 'broad corridor. On either
side of him were closed doors; ev-
erywhere around the mysterious sil-
ence of sleep. About half -way. down
the corridor was a turning to the left
and as he neared it he became con-
scious of a little current of air. He
moved even more cautiously. He
came at last to a complete standstill.
There was a short passage, an open
window, a small balcony. On the
balcony Lucille was standing.
For several seconds. he remained
motionless. . Her back was towards
him, and she was. looking out over
the gardens, looking towards the
laurel ibushes behind which he had
spent a portion of the night. Jermyn
made no sound, even his breathing
was almost inaudible, yet Lucille,
seemingly conscious of his presence,
slowly turned her head.
"You!" she whispered.
He moved slowly towards her. lie
stood 'by her side upon -the little stone
balcony.
"Yes, it is I, Lucille," ` he said.
"Listen!"
iHe caught her disengaged hand ;
the other was gripping the rail of
the balcony. For a few seconds they
stood so, their faces turned toward,
the main corridor. There was no
sound to be heard. Lucille sighed. Al-
ready her first terror seemed to be
passing,
"You Piave not been to bell," she
murmured, glancing at his attire.
"How Gould one sleep," he answer-
ed, "on such a night!"
She looked down at the dew upon
his patent shoes and at the splashes
cr wet upon his 'coat.
"You have been out!" she exclaim-
ed_
"in the gardens only."
"Watching?"
He shrugged his shoulders. His
face was utterly expressionless.
"What would I watch for?" he
muttered. "Is there anything which
wo do not know?"
Sha" ieanedl""forward and looked a-
long the front of the house. She
looked at !the window which iw'ae
fourth from the end. It was within
a few yards of then. There was
something significant in her look, but
after his first shivering apprehension
of it he turned his head and gazed
away over the tree -tops.
"`The dawn comes," he reminded
her, "Semi the servants will be a-
stir."
She drew her rose-colored dressing
gown a little closer around her.
"You are right,' she said, "I must
go, I could not sleep -the whole
thing is too awful. I am not sure,
Jermtyn, whether I am doing right."
"What do you ;,mean?" he asked
hoarsely.
She held up her 'finger. They 'both
of them seemed transformed into the
likeness of stone. images. Their fac-
es were turned towards the corridor.
The neon's hand gripped the rail
of the balcony more tightly than ev-
er. Without a doubt, the, sound which
they both heard was the sound of soft
footsteps. and the trailing of a light
gown. A]anost they held their breath.
The footsteps came nearer and near-
er, Without turning her head Sybil,
passed alongathe corridor, Sybil in a
Ring white dressing gown, her fair
hair bound up with white ribbon. She
was gone in a. moment. She ,passed
without looking to the right or the
left, without any consciousness of the
man and woman who watched. The
sound of her footsteps ceased. The
door of her room was softly opened
and closed. Lucille shrugged her
shoulder's very slightly. She gazed
into her companion's face. .
"You knew that she had been to
hint/?" she, Whispered.
"I knew!"
"You watched from the gardens?"
He pointed below.
"I was behind those laurel, }bushes
for more than two hours," he said.
"I saw the light in her window, I saw
it again flash as she passed through
the ante -roans" r -
"One cannot help but pity' her,"
Lucille murmured. "Think of the ag-
ony of her night! It was. her one
hope -she went to plead for his
silence. If he recovers consciousness,
Jermyn, do you believe that he will
tell the truth before he dies?"
"I do not ',know," he answered.
"How could any one tell what a man
in his state would do?"
!Lucille drew her dressing 'gown
around her and shivered.,. The sky in
the east" was red now and the dew
lay upon the lawns like frost. In
the woods which stretched away from
the house the thrushes were singing.
The'stable clock clanged again.
"It is morn] ig," he said.
•She laid her fingers upon his arum.
Her face was 'very close to his. Her
expression hail'' softened. In this
strange, ghostly ,light she was beau-
tiful in a weird; witchlike way.of her
t'
own.
"What are you going to do about
Sybil in the future?" she demanded
under her breath. "I ask you be-
cause I must know."
Again he shook .his .head..
"For two hours last night, in my
stu ;' he siad slowly, "I asked my -
se that question. Down there a
mongst the laurel bushes I watchee,'
the moon rise above the, trees and
saw it grow pale, and I, asked antyseif
nothing but that one question. I do
not know -indeed, Lucille, I do not
know."
!She took his arm. Together they
looked out upon this strange, fantas-
tic world of trees and shado,vs, of
landscape, hung with a mauve light
"Do you remember," she whisper-
ed, "when we were motoring in the
Black Forest last August, you and 1
and my mother? You drove all
through the night to avoid the heat,
and she slept. It was something like
this. We had first the moonlight and
then the spectral light, the lavender
and 'grey twilight. There was just
this same chilly feeling before the
sunrise. I asked you a question
then."
• "I remember," he answered uneas-
ily. .
"It is when the world sleeps that.
one can think," she wen: on. "Can't,
you feel it? When every one
laughing and talking and 'breephing
the air around us it seems almost int•
,possible to see things clearly. It is
in these long, still hours that one sees
tha truth. I, too, have been sleepless
to -night, Jermyn. 1, too, have beer
thinking. Some of my impulses have
grown weak.' Second thoughts' have
come to me."
"\Vhat do you mean?" he demand-
ed.
She turned and pointed down stile
corridor.
"J have been asking myself," ,she
said, "what •'There i, that I owe to
that girl or•to you that 1 should per-
jure myself to drive' her into you,.
arms? Why should I shield her? An-
swer' me that.-- She ha: killed a man.
Whether she had justili •ation or no:,
matters nothing to !t e. Let th,
courts deride that. I hate her! Now
tell me, Jermyp-an- v r me lonest-
Iy-why should 1 shield !ter?"
"Because' you arc bnt'r women," he
answered, "hecausc sew know that 1
love her, 'because it it splendid of
you,"
•She latigheri very soft;y but it was
a laugh which made .i(e myn shivef,
"Jermyn," she said,. ":fn hack again
to that night I spoke n, in the Black
Forest" I asked you a question then,
You were not very kin•i to me but I
--I have never changed.",
"Lucille!" he begged.
"Kush! These air, 'he hours in
which one speaks the it pith. Plenty of
nren have told nic th'rt they eared.
Jermyn, plenty of me:r whorl the
world in which I live le:At finrl more
attractive than you, .1nd I wanted
you. I always have wanted you. It's
the tiger in mei, I'strl','ose, to want
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n, y 0hauld 1 nut `spealt.
"'Or what ?"• -
"Or if -I' keep silent, why khoii,4
'I not exact to 1priee?" •
• "Lucille, you are talking wildly,'
be declared. "Youe have been so,
•splen'did, so brave, so heli fol. 'You
could not go back upon your words!'
"But indeed I could," she told him,
Now listen, Jernzyna I am .going to
my room. At eight o'clock you m,uet
•come to hie. By that time J shall
have 'matte up my mind Only hush
not a word now. I have fiais1ted.
-Dear, how cold and pale you are!"
htr took his face suddenly between
be hands and kissed him: on the lip. s.
Then she passed noiselessly away. He
waited until he heard the door of Ler
room open and close. Then he retrac-
ed his steps along the corridor. turn-
ed to the left • and 'paused before a
door in the east wing. It waa the
riom at which he had gazed from le -
'.ow -the third window on the •;eft.
Very slowly he, turned the handle of
the door and entered. •.
'CHAPTER XVI
The room through which ,Jermyn
passed- was dark and empty; but in
the chamber beyond, the best in the
house, as,became the pomp and cir-
cumstance of his position, Henry Ayn-
esweeth, Marquis of Lakenhanr, lay
dying. Jeymyn, who was admitted.
only after he had knocked softly
twig;,•, stood" for a moment upon the
threshold of this fateful apartment.
The surgeon from Norwich had ar-
rived and was talking in earnest whis-
pers with Dr. Brownrigg. A nurse
whom he had brought with him sat
by the bedside. The man who lay
there seemed to have turned his face
to the wall.' He was either sill ,un-
conscious or he slept. There was no
soundrin the room save the faint mur-
mur o,f voices as the two physicians
talked together. Jermyn came slow-
ly over towards them, They moved
a little apart at his entrance.' '
"There is no change?" Jermyn ask-
ed.
"None," Dr. Brownrigg replied.
"Physi'ca'lly, there will be none until
the end." '
"He mist' die, then?"
"He must certainly die."'
"Has he spoken to any -one?"
IThe two doctors exchanged glanc-
es. It was Dr. Brovvnrigg who an-
swered.
"He has spoken to no one, Sir
Jermyn," he said. "Miss Cluley has
been here, begging to be allowed to
sit •by his beside, but the inspector ex-
acted a promise from .me that if he
refrained from putting a man in the
room, I should allow no.one to enter
it save myself and the necessary at-
tendants, I hope you will explain to
Miss Cluley, Sir Jermyn, that I was
compelled, to keep my word.'r
"•I• -'quite understand," Jeinnyn re-
plied. "and I ami sure Miss Cluley
will, Naturally, she. feels the shock
very much. She told me that • she
hoped to be allowed to see him before
the end."
The doctor bowed.
"The young lady was in great dis-
tress," he said, "and it was very pain-
ful for me to have to refuse her re-
quest. Under the circumstances,
however, thee• svgs no alternative."'
9 am..__. , su she will understand,"
Jermyn declared. "There is nothing
Tore, I suppose," he added, with a
hesitating glance towards the bcd.
"that .can be done?"
"Nothing," 'the surgeon answered.
"We have' eased his pain --we could
do no more. He may live for a few
pours but he will grow weaker all
the time." . -
"No longer than that?" Jermyn.
murmured.
"No longer than that." the surgeon
reiterated. '
A slight sound carne from the bed.
Jermyn turned his head. The man
who lay there had opened his eyes
and was watching. The nurse was
htnding over him.
"I think," Oise said, turning around
•`that he wants to speak to..you, sir,"
Jermyn made his way slowly to the
hedside. His heart was thumping.
They were all iisteninge • Perhaps
this was a foolish thing which he had
done! The man who lay there vas
pitifully changers. kie-•hail been a coarse,
Hilly, red-faced giant a few hours a-
go. Now he seemed to have shrunk-
en. His cheeks. had fallen in, his
eyes -under his hairy eyebrows seem -
:,.1 to have become almost fixed in a
glassy- stare. His voice, loud and
stentorian, the voice which .Jormyn
had hated, was almost a whisncr, yet
even as a whisper it seemed to pre-
serve its discordant effect. ,
"1'm done. .Jermyn!" '
"Not a bit of it," Jermyn declared
with hastily -assumed cheerfulness.
"Nothing "is certain, nowadays. A
specialist is on his way hero. V.e
are hoping that he will he able to do
eomcthing for you."
"I telt you I'm done," the man 011
th ' lied repeated, almost sullenly. "I
know. .11en always knniv when they
are dying."
-,"\N rdon't believe it," Jermyn as:
serterl. "Still. if there is any one
you would wish to'4e•e--
"Not at soul," Lakerviani 'muttered.
„There's no one -=-who'll care a clanr.
• There's no ono I care -a damn about!
I used -to think you were a fool.
.lernyn-to keep the women at ar•nl'S
length, 1 believe -you're right,
They're devils!"
'•Jerm.yn looked half wildly around,
The doctors were both standing with-
in earshot, What was the man about
to say!
"Don't talk if it iliktfesse` you,"
he, begged. "There will be more
chance for you if you lie still."
Lakenham op^ned- his lips and
closed them again. The nurse hent
over him and wiped his forehead.
.Jermyn motioned her nervously a-
way. He pointed to the corner of
the room. She oheyrd him with rr
significant glance towards the rlortnr.
'"1 can't -make up my mind," TAR.
en -ham went on painfully, "whether to
tell the truth -o[ not. The doctors
have been ,preseing^ mo hard. tVhilst
-.I lay here dozing. J heard them
epeale--of the police. Yoti don't want
--the police in the hbusc-do you,
"Terme n,?" -
"Nothing of that sort Matters very
much," Jermlyn replied calmly. "If
ulc
im len are
0.0 clue'
doctors approached 1
• waved elereayn. away.
'*You hada betterleave hini i,
he 'whipper,. . ,; - • '
"Ilse wanto .tell, mae somethin l"
ermlyn exelaineed hoarsely, "t1 dont'
i:n1k that I had abetter go..aw,ay
e' ould rather tell true-tli,ati any snte.;
Ile is going to tell us who shot. hem!"
The doctor shook'his head' graitely.
"There is no question about `his . ;
telling anybody anything more," he
said. "Lord ' Ieakenhant is ,passing'
anvay. Iia will never open his lips
again." '
CHAPTER XVII
Perhats, in its way, the final shock
of Lakenham°s death brought with it
a certain grim sense .of relief; • an
end, •at any rate, of the terrible ten-
sion of the last few hours. Jermyn
made 'his way unsteadily into his own
bedroom, and threw himself upon the
sofa. For an hour .or. so he dozed. At
seven o'clock a servant brought him
some 'tea. Afterwards, mechanically
he took a bath and • ehachiged his
clothes. At eight o'clock he knocked
at the door of the Bitting .r.00m of
Lucille's little snitee ' Her maid' ad-
mitted him at once. Lucille herself,
fully dressed in plain dark clothes,
was sitting at her table, writing let -
Sere. Her eyes followed the disap-
pearing figure of the maid. As soon
as the door was closed she leaned
towards Jermyn.
"It is all over, then?" she whisper-
ed. ""He is dead?" •
"He is dead!"
She drew a little breath. Her tone
was- unsteady.
"Has he told the truth?" she asked
eagerly. c'Is any one implicated??
Did he say anything to you?."
Jermyn shook his head.
"He has made no.statement at all,"
he replied. "He spoke to .me. He
was hesitating as to how much he
should tell. Even as he was hesitat-
ing he died."
"You a're sure that he told the doc-
tors nothing whilst you were out of
the room?"
"I am quite sure."
Lucille sat for a few minutes with
her eyes half closed. Her lips mov-
ed even
as though ehe. were speaking
to herself: Then she drew a long
sigh and rose to her feet. She went
over to Jermyn and, passing, her arni
through his, led ,him to any easy -
chair. A coffee tray stood upon the
table.
"Jermyn dear," she said, a'I want
you to -try' and pull yourself together.
I know 'that .this has all been very
horrible. You have had two shocks
-the tragedy of spoor Aynesworth's
death under your own roof, and the
tragedy of that terrible secret. You
wi1T-Tia've- fine li"pian "Ftid 'face it,
Jermyn. 'There is no other way. We
shall need all our courts , both you
and I, if that secret isr tribe proper-
ly kept."
He lifted his eyes to hers. There
were black rims underneath them and
his cheeks seemed to have become
hollower. The shock had aged him.
"I shall face it," he assured her.
"There is no doubt about that. The
question which concerns me most for
the .present is what you are going to
She busied herself, for a moment,
making some coffee. Then she'turn-
ed and looked at hint steadfastly.
"Jermyn," she said, "all the excite-
ment of the last few hours seems to
have left nee nerveless. I 'can talk
quite calmly now of things which, in
themselves, sound terrible. 1 ant go-
ing to make a :bargain with you."
"1 a?h, going• to speak the naked
truth," she ~went on. `Some of the
things I shall say you may not like.
Nevertheless. listen patiently. 1 have
no love for Sybil Cluley, You are an
idealist, Jermyp, and all your days
you will he a little out of touch with
a World which has been fashioned by
practical pecple, and whose main
road; and.byways lead to the obvious
:laces. Srhil Cluley is just a little
girl upon the stage, who .has been
clever enough to behave rlreently- most
of •her day'Is, and woman enouktdb,j
when. one of her secrets has been
found out, to -strike hard for herself
'and her future. She isn't what' you
think her, J‘rinlyn• She isn't any-
thing' at all wonderful. She would
have made yqu a good little wife, I
dare say, and prob'ahly she would
have settled down here quite con-
tentedly. She might even Inc:hien
faithful to you. But beyond that she
wasn't in the least like the woman you
ni�glit to marry."
• "I am listening patiently," he re-
marked, "hut T do not agree with a
single word. The woman whom a
mean ought to marry is tic+ woman
who, in 'pure mysterious way, has
made for herself a place which no
other yi•otran could make in the'heart
of the man who ''covets her. There is
nn universal standard of suitability
•--you must know that yourself very
well ---or ail mem would desir; the
-ante women. I feel fm' Sybil what
I have felt for no one else in my life,
what I shall never feel for any lithe"
woman. i cainot listen to a single
worrl against her. I do not b. Neve
single Iwird against her!"
She leaned' a little forward. e
"You helieve-in your heart you
know that she killed Aynesw.irth!"
.Jermyn opened his lips and closed
then again. She lean:d a little clos-
er still.
"1 ani not cure, even," she went on,
watching him closely, "that Aynes-
worth, if' he spoke to you et ;,II, dirt
not let fall some word: did not. di-
'Toth- or !nd•irect!y,•eonfirm this.''
Jermyn covered his face with his
hanrls, A sudden light flash''c1 in
T,ucille's eye. When Jri inyn looked
up the lines in his face seemed deep -
or.
"Lucille," he said, "is this worth
while between you and me? Since
rou force me to it, then, supposing
T admit that Sybil did kill him? It
was. done in an imipulse of madness.
You do not for a moment suppose
that I shall not protect her with all
my power, by every means I possess."
7
T ORON
wfI1R pee Pik
"Nothing that you can, el4,1 s
replied, "will be of ,ala'y' liegeTtf
:choose to speak out."
"But you won't!"
On certain 'terms I shall. pt '
she aslented. "If • you refuse. paa11 ,'
terms 1 shall tell the . trutl'i." . • ,
the 1$orked at her doulbtfully, 'still,.
without complete understanding,.. -
"An hour or so ago," she continued
dropping: her voicea little, 'soiree-
thing in the conning of the .,morning
from behind the woods carried' ire
back tothe past so overwheilnting]y
that I was compelled to speak to you
of a moment which I . have thought
of always in mry heart with shame.I mean the moment when .I begged
for a little of your love. No, don't
move away. This hurts you to Iisten
to, perhaps, but you must listen.
When you told me that you were go-
ing to marry Sybil leluleryr you gave
me the cruellest shock• of my life.
There was nothing left for me. I am
not one of those who can distribute
affection, Jermyn. When I love as I •
Iove you, ass God knows I love you,
there can be no other man in the
world, there can be no life worth lire-
ing without you, there can be noth-
ing but misery. Sit still. you ?must
bean me to the end. Twenty-four
hours ago it was all over with me: I
couldn't even make up my mind what
I should do -with the wretched frag-
ments of my life. i simply didn't ..
care. Wherever I looked I could see
no single ray of joy or happiness, or
anything approaching it.' The one •
thing which alone I desired, hopeless
as it seemed then, was te. separate
you and Sybil Cluley. Fate has done
that for me."
• iHe moved uneasily in his chair.
She held out her hand.
"I know what you are thinking,"
she went on. "I have brought you
face to 'face with your own problem.
You are wondering and wondering.
Now listen.' I am going to salve that
proiblern, for you. I am going to give
you •no chance of heroism If you
want to 'save this girl from the scaf-
fold you must marry me, and.marry
rile quickly."
He sprang to' his• feet.
"Lucille!" he cried. ^ "LueilleP'
She rose slowly. She.looked at .
him, looked at•,ihim long and steadily
and his heart sank.
'That is the price of my silence,"
she told hini deliberately. "I •haste no
liking, no sympathy for Sybil Cluley.
If I ani compelled to speak, she will
very likely escape the death sentence.
She might make a jury believe that
she killed Aynesworth in defence of
her honor. She is clever enough, X
dare say. But even if ,she is fortun-
ate, she will spend the best years of
her youth in prison. I think, Jermyn
that yiu will save her .from that;"
It was significant of the conviction
which her words carried that Jermyn
attempted no argument.
"You are cruel!" he muttered.
(Continued next•week.)
LONDON AND. WINGHAM
South.
P.M.
Winghani 1.55
Beigrave 2.11
Blyth 2.23
Londesboro 2.30.
Clinton ' 3.08 "
Brucefield 3.27 -
Kippen ., 3.35
Hensall • ' •3.41
Exeter 3.55
North.
A.M.
Exeter 10.42
Hensall 10.55
Kippen 11.01.,
Brueefield 11.09
Clinton 11/54
Londesboro ,, 12.10
Blyth 12.19
Belgrave 12.30
`Vin.gham • 12.50
' C. N. R.
East:
A.M. P.M.
Gnderich "6.45 2.30
Clinton 7.08 3.00
Seaforth 7.22' 3.18
Dublin 7.33 8.31
Mitchell 7.42 3.43
West
14uhlin ..... 11.19 9.32
Seaforth 11..4 9.45
Clinton 11.50 9.59
Goderich 12.10 10.25
C. P. R`, TIMiE TABLE
East.
A.M.
Goclet'iclr 5.50
Menset 6.55
McGaw 6.01
Auburn 6.11
Blyth 6.25
Walton 6.40
McNaught 6.52
Toronto 10.25
'l West.
A.M. •
Toronto 7.40 •
McNaught 11.48
Wal tion ..........• .. 12.01'
Blyth 12.12 .
Auburn. • ,,.,, 12.23
McGaw 12.34
Menset ..... 12:41 "
Gederich ' 'Wit
'£