HN 1 KPE E
EDWARE CASE
George Pleydell


KONIO


นะ 14 19 - 2





THE WARE CASE
GEORGE PLEYDELL





THE WARE CASE
BY
GEORGE PLEYDELL
HODDER & STOUGHTON
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY


Copyright, 1913
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY


THE WARE CASE


KD1641


THE WARE CASE
CHAPTER I
asser upony of the libraan dash
IT was a charming place, Wilbury; and soon after lunch-
eon on one of those early hot autumn days, which surely
are intended to make the world happier, but which English-
men, in their quest of a grievance, frequently resent, any
hidden trespasser upon the estate, who chanced to look to-
wards the door-window of the library, would have seen an
exceptionally beautiful young woman dash out distractedly
upon the terrace alone. She was wearing an exquisitely cut
white dress. Its taste was faultless. Its lines were charm-
ing. It was worn to perfection.
No head-gear hid her hair, which glittered brilliantly un-
der a tropical sun. It was not golden hair in the conven-
tional sense of the word, but golden streaks were intertwined
with dark brown shades. When the light was on it it was
dazzling.
Many kindly disposed women in discussing it with other
kindly disposed women would sum it up pat in three words:
“ Dyed, my dear.” Some even, with one of those charitable
smiles which do not show the teeth, would hazard the ques-
tion to her charmingly: “What do you use, dearest? Do
tell me.”
But the owner of this head of hair, who was the owner
also of a sense of humour, would just bite her very pretty
full lip, and answer with a most attractive chuckle: “ Noth-
ing”- another chuckle -“ Why?” And she would be
speaking the truth. It was real. Everything about her was
real.
She did not remain upon the terrace. She was restless,
agitated. With a quick, furtive look behind her to make
sure that no one followed, she hurriedly descended some old


THE WARE CASE
Nothing stopped her. Almost as if some one were in
pursuit she sought the refuge of some trees near a lake.
She threaded her way through the bracken, kicking it im-
patiently as she went, until, coming upon a broken bough,
she sat down upon it in precisely the same attitude as she
had adopted in the garden. But this time, as she gazed out
blankly in front of her, her eyes fell upon the water. And
anyone watching her then would have noticed that she saw
it. It arrested her. It was real. The sun was beating
down upon it. It shimmered wonderfully. It was deep a
few yards out. It attracted her. It absorbed her. She
was deaf to the insects. She was blind to every living, mov-
ing thing around her. Nothing was there but the lake.
For some time she did not stir. She was in the act of
making up her mind. A great grief encircled her. This
could end it. It would hurt, she thought. But only
for a moment. It would hurt nobody else. Was it cow-
ardly? She did not know. She was beyond caring. She
stood up slowly and faced the water. Resolution was writ-
ten large upon a beautiful young face. She walked deliber-
ately towards the edge. She reached it firmly. In another
sceond she would have left the bank, and the world would
have been the poorer. But at that very moment there broke
forth suddenly upon the still air the clanging of some church
bells. They were ringing uproariously for a village wedding.
They were some distance off, but the stretch of water, lying
between them and the solitary figure in white, made them
sound loudly. She heard them with a start, and, placing
her hands to her ears, her face was distorted with pain.
She raised her head in an agony, and her eyes, as she opened
them, looked towards a hill where a little old church nestled
among the gravestones. Some of these were green with
age, too old for any descendant to give a casual thought to.
Visitors even would raise their voices when they approached
them. A few were newer and cleaner, still worth a posy or
two. Others had only recently been placed there. They
were very white in the sun. Many of them were nearly
hidden by flowers. They were young enough to be remem-
bered, and passers-by spoke in a whisper.


10
THE WARE CASE
The figure in white took a quick step back as she gazed
towards the little grey steeple. Then, with a violent lifting
of her shoulders, she covered her face with her hands, and
for some minutes sobbed bitterly. She turned her eyes once
more upon the distant hill, and the look of resolution, just
now planted so firmly upon her face, melted away into a
look of love and remorse. What had she seen upon the
hill?
In another moment she was running away from the water.


CHAPTER II
SUCH a tragedy, so near completion, was strangely out of
keeping with an attractive property like Wilbury. It
was a fascinating Elizabethan house of considerable size,
with modern luxurious appointments — a delightful blend
of the sixteenth and twentieth centuries, genuine old oak
beams and panelling being on excellent terms with a private
installation of electric light, and certain of the smaller rooms,
with their quaint windows, resignedly submitting to the in-
trusion of the most up-to-date porcelain bathş.
It was a perfectly equipped house, suggesting wealth in
every nook. Estate agents, probably, would advertize it as
“ This exceptional mansion.” Certainly they would call it
desirable; possibly unique. And in their choice of adjectives
they would not unnaturally be influenced by its surround-
ings.
It was ideally placed in a beautiful old timbered park.
There were tastefully laid out gardens. The connoisseur
would detect the master hand of the Scotch gardener every-
where. The kitchen-garden could be painted only by Par-
sons. The flower gardens, with their tennis courts and
croquet lawns, their sundials and roughly paved paths with
grass popping up between the joints, would be a joy to
Marcus Stone. And on the other side, to the west, there
was the large lake which the beautiful figure in white had
rushed to for release. It was, indeed, a most attractive
feature of the estate. It was not formal or artificial looking,
but apparently responsible to nature alone. It was bounded
almost entirely by luxuriant foliage. Grand old oaks, just
the hiding-places for Elizabethan ruffs or Stuart frills,
fine planes, lofty elms, rich chestnuts pink and white, dark
cedars and weeping willows were plentiful. Thick bracken,
almost to the water's edge, was everywhere. And the smell
of the moss, was good.


12
THE WARE CASE
The lake was not much less than half a mile long. Its
southern end came to within a hundred yards of the house,
but was quite hidden from the windows by the great trees
and the high banks of rhododendrons surrounding it. In
fact a visitor would only discover the use this end had been
put to when he reached it. There, if he was a swimmer, he
would find to his delight a well fitted bathing-shed, with a
spring-board for the header-taker and steps for the timid.
If he was energetic the choice of two rowing skiffs would at-
tract him. If he was a flirt, a punt. Apart from these
modern additions to the lake, it had, even when the sun was
out, a strangely deserted and silent atmosphere about it.
At twilight or under the stars it could look very cruel. Some
products of the twentieth century afflicted with nerves or an
“itis” of some kind would not like it. They would label it
creepy, and imagine that many an Elizabethan drama had
been enacted in it.
Be that as it may, as likely as not you will be wondering
why such importance should be attached to the existence of
such a lake. Quite right. Many estates possess them.
There is nothing very startling in a stretch of water although
it may be half a mile long. There are many such in various
parts of England. But this is the point. This particular
lake was only twelve miles from London, in the County of
Middlesex. That is a fact assuredly which Giddy & Giddy
would not overlook were Wilbury in the market.
But it was not. And while the figure in white was con-
templating the water, within three hundred yards of her, in
the garden, games of lawn tennis were being strenuously
played and thoroughly enjoyed by the friends and relatives of
this tortured soul, and indoors every one was pursuing a
normal existence.
Marston Gurney entered the charming library, took up a
packet of stamped letters from the table, and rang the bell.
He was a well dressed, fresh-looking young Englishman of
twenty-five, and admirably filled the post of private secretary
to Sir Hubert Ware, the owner of Wilbury.
“ Did you ring, sir?”
The question came from a tall, somewhat pompous-look-


THE WARE CASE
13
ing, middle-aged butler, who asked the most commonplace
questions with a pained expression.
“Yes, Rate," replied Gurney, as he handed him the packet,
“ these letters of Sir Hubert's for the post.”
“I beg pardon, sir, but I thought I might talk more free
like to you, sir, as Sir Hubert's secretary, than I could to
Sir Hubert."
“ Well?”
“There's been a discussion in the servants' 'all, sir, about
a rumour what's got spread.”
“A rumour, Rate?” asked Gurney, eyeing the butler's very
cadaverous expression with some comic curiosity.
“Yes, sir, but it's probably only one of those petty coun-
try rumours. London's too big for them, sir,” answered
Rate with considerable contempt.
“ What is the rumour?"
“That Sir Hubert's obliged to sell Wilbury, sir”; and he
added quickly, on noticing a look of impatience cross Gur-
ney's face, “I wouldn't have presumed to put the question,
sir, if I hadn't thought my own position and the
wife's -”
“Was insecure?" interrupted the young secretary. “You
may make your mind easy, Rate. Your position, so far as
I know, hasn't even been mentioned.”
“I see, sir. Thank you, sir," replied a very disappointed,
crestfallen-looking man, who until then had regarded his
position of butler and his wife's of housekeeper as of some
importance.
Gurney lighted a cigarette, and over the burning match
watched, with a twinkle in his eye, the very stiff, eloquent
back of the butler as he retreated across the large room to-
wards the door. He expected a dignified exit of the man
there and then, but he was disappointed.
On the threshold of the hall Rate stopped and turned.
“I hope, sir, you'll excuse the liberty of my asking that
question,” he said.
“Of course, of course," replied Gurney, puffing out a
cloud of smoke to hide his amusement.
"I only did so, sir, because Sir Hubert and her ladyship


14
THE WARE CASE
have hitherto extended to me the greatest consideration."
"I quite understand, Rate, quite."
“ Other masters and mistresses, sir, may treat their serv-
ants different, but here, sir, at Wilbury and in Bruton Street,
I have never been looked upon as a mere syphon in the
house."
Gurney, biting his lips, thought silence the safest plan, and
the butler, completely satisfied with his command of the
King's English, passed out.
“Don't shut the door, Rate. It's too hot," called out
Gurney, just stopping him in time.
He was now alone in the room. After a hearty laugh at
Rate's expense he left the handsome Chippendale writing-
table, against which he had been leaning, and, as if at a loss
what to do, examined aimlessly the beautifully bound books
which surrounded the library, and extended from the floor
to a height of ten feet.
It was a very hot day as we know, but Marston Gurney
was too young and too thin to feel it as he did. He blew
out his cheeks and mopped his brow, and greedily snatched
up “The Sportsman” which was lying on an exquisite
Adams sofa. Apparently he had forgotten that only a couple
of hours ago he had devoured the whole paper, and could
quote the price of every horse.
He then threw it aside, and, hurrying to a small whatnot
table near the fireplace, he referred to a particular page of
“ The Racing Calendar” for the hundredth time.
The telephone on the writing-table rang. It could not
possibly be news of the St. Leger, which was to be run to-
day. It was too early yet. But young Gurney rushed to the
receiver, and answered the call feverishly.
“Hallo! Hallo! — Yes, this is Sir Hubert Ware's house.
-No, I'm his secretary, Mr. Gurney - Gurney, yes. Who
is it speaking? — Oh, Mr. Ingleworth, Sir Hubert's stock-
broker. Oh — h!”
He was disappointed, and his tone became dull.
"Well, can I give him your message? - Yes, I do happen
to know something about the matter.”—
Gurney started.


THE WARE CASE
15
“Serious, you say. Just wait one moment, will you, Mr.
Ingleworth?”
He threw his cigarette away and caught sight of the open
door by which Rate had left, and thinking that the butler's
morals might possibly not be sounder than the butler's Eng-
lish, closed it prudently.
“Are you there?” he inquired quietly through the tele-
phone again.
“ Yes — Yes - Yes - and the total sum?”
The receiver jerked in his hand.
“Serious as that? -er - couldn't it be carried over again
to the next account? — Not possible? – I see, yes.— I'll re-
peat your message after you.—Sir Hubert must settle the
account by Thursday or prompt action will be taken.' Is
that right? — Very well.— Good-bye.”
He rang off, and looked out in front of him thoughtfully.
So thoughtful was he for some moments that he did not
hear a tennis shoe step into the room through the door-win-
dow behind him just after he had hung up the receiver. If
he had been aware of it, this strong, manly young fellow
would not have been too pleased.
It was a pale and overdressed youth of twenty who came
in. His immaculate flannels fitted him too well. The trouser-
crease was too straight, the turn-up was too accurate. The
white shoes were too white. The waist of the jacket was too
wasp-like. The light racquet of thirteen ounces, which he
held, was too heavy for him. His name was Eustace Ede.
“ Hallo, Marston," he squeaked out in a high-pitched tone
as he reached Gurney's side, “you look a bit glum. What's
up?"
“Nothing," was the flat answer. “Finished your tennis,
Eustace?"
“It's nearly finished me,” replied the youth, petulantly.
“I simply can't serve, and never shall. And, then, playing
with girls means that on an insufferably hot day you have to
hunt for all the balls, and clamber through beastly dirty wire-
netting. I believe that wife of yours sent them out on pur-
pose. It's damnable for one's flannels. I say, Marston,"
he added, turning himself round, “ am I filthy ?"


THE WARE CASE
“Awful,” said Gurney, with a mischievous laugh. .
“ Then I must go and change.”
“Rot, you blighter! I was only codding. But I say, if
you could get a smear or two of the earth on you it wouldn't
hurt you. That's what you want, Eustace — to be made a
man of.”
“Well, I don't approve of tennis with your wife as a
means to that end. Besides, I simply abominate anything to
do with bats or clubs.”
Gurney looked at him contemptuously, and with difficulty
kept his right foot still. No, that would not do, he thought.
To kick the brother of Lady Ware, his charming hostess,
would be quite indefensible. He controlled himself, and fell
back upon a chaffing mood.
“Had your bathe yet?” he inquired of Eustace, being
certain of a negative answer.
“No, I have not. There's another hateful amusement -
bathing."
“Well, anyhow we've taught you to swim a bit. I believe
at a pinch you might manage thirty yards.”
“ Yes, in this horrid lake here," replied the boy, wriggling
his body in his too well fitting clothes.
“But I say, Eustace,” said Gurney, with a distinct tone of
real regret in his voice, “what's going to happen to you when
you come into all your property? What sort of figure are
you going to cut?. And you've not much time to pull your-
self together, you know."
“Oh, yes, I know all about that,” squeaked Ede.
“In six months you'll be of age and heir to - to your
father's fortune, you lucky devil.”
“ Lucky, is it? I don't know so much about that. I'm
certain it'll all be an infernal worry. No, Marston, my sister
Magdalen is the lucky one. She just has all she needs,
and —”
“ Lady Ware deserves all the luck of the world,” exclaimed
Gurney, warmly.
“Well, and hasn't she got it? To be five years older than
me, and yet to escape this infernal inheritance, and all the
his voice, said clotheplied the


THE WARE CASE
17
fuss and bother I know it's going to cause me. And she
would have managed it all so much better than I shall.”
Gurney, without speaking, was of the same opinion, and
wished with all his heart that she had the chance..
“What the guy'nor was about when he made his will I
don't know.”
“ Nor do I,” came sarcastically from the other.
Eustace looked up surprised, with an expression of some
pleasure.
“You're of the same opinion!” he exclaimed. “Thanks,
Marston. That's the first remark I've made to-day that
any one's agreed with. Ever since breakfast you've all been
stinging liking a lot of beastly — !”.
He uttered a sudden cry of fright, and with his hand-
kerchief beat the air in terror.
“Wasps! Wasps !” he yelled as he screwed himself up in
fear, “I hate them! I hate them! Take the brute away,
Marston!”
“Not for worlds," laughed Gurney.
Eustace ran from the wasp in a panic.
“I say what a funk you are!” he cried. “ Now you shall
see that I'm not afraid."
"I should like to see that."
The wasp settled at last close to a cigar box upon a small
table. The courage of the anæmic youth became enormous.
“ He's stopped there, the wretch," he whispered, as he
pointed to the table. Now!” He approached the writing-
table cautiously, and picked up a small china vase.
“ See that?” he asked, holding it out weakly.
Gurney nodded.
“Now for 'im!” the boy said excitedly in a hushed tone.
Slowly on tiptoe he approached the small table with the
vase which, with a very nervous hand, he placed over the
wasp. He sprang away from it in triumph, and applauded
himself childishly. Darwin alone could have accounted for
his laughi, What do Lee! He
“ There! What do you think of that? I've got him!
I've got him! Hee! Hee! Hee!”


THE WARE CASE
19
by many English girls of the twentieth century. In Bond
Street that “roll ” is hideous enough, but when surrounded
by Parisians in the Rue de la Paix it assumes an interna-
tional importance, and dangerously imperils the Entente Cor-
diale.
Her tastes were feminine. Very properly she liked to
have pretty things around her. She had an eye for colour,
and it pleased her to place two tints side by side, which, to
the conventional mind, should never occupy the same room,
and make them agree successfully. Pleasant scents ap-
pealed to her. The perfumes she bought were never pun-
gent. They made you no more than just conscious of their
presence. Her character was feminine, and it was strong.
Endowed by nature with beauty and charm she could have
had the whole world grovelling had she chosen, but she pre-
ferred detachment, and only cared for the society of a few
close friends whom she picked most carefully. She was
rather vehement in her likes and dislikes. She loathed a
snob.
In religion she was unorthodox. She was only five and
twenty, but she had a mind that could think for itself. As
to the thousand and one forms of religion, they one and all
had good in them to her way of thinking.
The prayers she uttered were her own, and they were very
short and to the point. On Sundays she went to church
irregularly, but she led a good life through the week. Cant
and humbug she detested. A goody-goody person she never
saw twice. No published charity-lists included her name.
Her benefactions were anonymous and liberal. But her
greatest quality of all was endurance. You may wonder
whether it could have been tested adequately at the age of
twenty-five. But experience sometimes can grip the young.
And an observant person, looking into Magdalen's face,
would have read something there. It would have been diffi-
cult to explain, but it was there. It did not detract from
her beauty; indeed it enhanced it; it seemed to give it
strength. It was a wonderful face and very uncommon.
Its expression was extraordinarily varied. It was never the
same two seconds together. A sudden humorous twinkle in


20
THE WARE CASE
commonpl
er people, while terest in the most
a pair of brilliant eyes, and a twist of a rather crooked mouth,
would chase away a look of grief in a flash.
She was the antithesis of her brother Eustace. In fact,
regarding the two at this moment, the one serene and beauti-
ful, the other stupid and malicious as he contemplated the
destruction of the wasp, it was difficult to realize their close
relationship.
And there was Magdalen in that room completely self-
possessed, uttering the most ordinary commonplaces, out-
wardly taking an interest in the most humdrum concerns of
other people, while not many minutes ago she stood alone
with a sorrow upon the edge of the lake.
“There you are, Magdalen,” exclaimed delightedly a
pretty girl of small stature as she came through the door-
window with a racquet and tennis-ball in her hand. “ I've
been looking for you in the garden. Where have you
been?”
“Up in my room, Celia,” was the calm reply.
Celia, who had been absent from her new husband for the
enormous length of half an hour, joined Marston Gurney
like a dutiful wife.
“Now I'm going to finish him," said Eustace devilishly,
drawing nearer to the china vase with a lighted cigarette in
a very long tube.
“ Please don't stamp on him, Eustace. Ugh! I hate that
scrunching sound,” entreated Magdalen, with her fingers to
her ears.
“I never stamp on 'em,” answered her brother.
“Hasn't got the pluck, the rotter," whispered Celia to
Gurney.
“I have a much more artistic method,” giggled Eustace,
“I let 'em die slowly by nicotine poison. Just look! You'll
see him all stupefied in a moment."
He took a long draw at his cigarette, very cautiously lifted
up one side of the vase, blew into it a thick puff of smoke,
and then again completely covered the wasp with the vase.
"There! Who's afraid ? I'll give him another go di-
rectly,” said the boy as he swaggered stupidly towards Gur-
ney.


THE WARE CASE
21
“Oh, no, you won't,” protested Magdalen firmly, as she
lifted up the vase and set the wasp free.
“I say, Magdalen, what's it got to do with you ? " shouted
Eustace in a rage.
“You're cruel,” she replied. “You seem to take a fiendish
delight in torturing anything which chances to be even more
insignificant than yourself.”
“That's a nice sisterly remark, a very nice sisterly re-
moriz”
mark.”
Some colour at last came into the cheeks of the boy, and
Marston and Celia, possessed of an average amount of tact,
strolled out of the library to the terrace.
Magdalen at that moment did not feel disposed to spare
this young brother.
“Isn't a sister generally about the only person who does
tell her brother what she thinks of him?” she asked quietly.
“Look here, stop that tone of yours, will you?” yelled
Eustace.
"It's inconceivable that you're nearly twenty-one, and
coming into a large estate.”
“Damn it! I don't want to come into it. It's only going
to be a beastly worry to me, I know that, and I hate to be
worried.”
Magdalen moved away from him with an exclamation of
impatience and a contemptuous toss of her head.
“Stop a bit, though,” he continued, “I believe that's just
the reason why you and I don't hit it off.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking straight into
his face.
"I mean that I think you're jealous; yes, beastly jealous.
You're older than me, and think you ought to have it. That's
what you think!”
Her look was withering. Hers was indeed one of those
minds through which a mean thought had seldom passed.
She remained silent, and regarded him steadily.
“Well, then, I'm one up on you at last, Magdalen,” he
spluttered furiously. “You can't touch a penny of it till
I'm done with. You've just got to wait for my death before
you come into it. That's what you've got to do, yes. And


THE WARE CASE
23
There was a pause. The beautiful grey-blue eyes were
full of tears, the delicately rounded chin was shak-
ing, and Celia, with her arms round her neck, kissed her
tenderly. That embrace showed very clearly how complete
was the sympathy between those two.
“But you understand, don't you?” continued Magdalen,
with a sure look at the young man.
“ Understand ? ” Gurney answered sympathetically, remem-
bering the confidential telephone message from the stock-
broker. “I'm only wretched at feeling you are troubled,
Lady Ware.”
And he was sincere. He really was only thinking of her
anxieties. It barely crossed his mind at that moment that
his loss of the secretaryship was a serious matter for him and
Celia. He merely was reflecting upon the gravity of the
Wares' position which the telephone message, in conjunction
with other knowledge in his secret possession, made clear.
He wanted to take a convenient opportunity to communicate
that message to Sir Hubert Ware. And he walked up to the
window thoughtfully.
“Is Sir Hubert in the garden, Celia ? ” he asked.
“Yes, playing tennis with Sir Henry Egerton. Sir
Henry walked over just now.”
“Oh, I see.”
The news, he thought, could keep for half an hour.
“Everything will come right for you, I'm sure," said
Magdalen, with a brave smile. “Don't worry more than
you can help.”
“No, of course not,” he replied with a laugh. “ I'll take
up Christian Science at once.”
“No, dear, no twaddle of that sort, I don't think,” said
Celia, with an emphatic shake of the head.
As the daughter of an orthodox clergyman she held certain
views, though she could express them according to her gen-
eration.
"Christian Science, twaddle ?” he exclaimed. “Why, just
think of the comfort of it. You can change the colour of
everything. Red's black - black’s red.”
"Never at Monte Carlo,” Magdalen urged quickly.
Celia, dear, noence at onceeplied with a


THE WARE CASE
25
a powerfully built man. But he was glad of a game with
Ware. Scotland Yard had not allowed him enough exercise
lately.
“ Not a bad 'un that, eh, Marston?” said Ware, with a
chuckle, giving Egerton an untakeable service.
"Hallo, Gurney!” called out Egerton. “That's five all,
Ware.”
“Long game or sudden death?” asked Ware gaily, as he
sent the balls over to Egerton.
“Oh, the long game. Give me exercise," answered Eger-
ton breathlessly, mopping his face.
“Right ho!”
Gurney crossed to Egerton's court, and took the oppor-
tunity to speak to him. “I say, Sir Henry, do you advise
my wife to put a bit on · Aeroplane'?” he asked.
“ Yes," replied Egerton, absorbed in his game.
“ Don't you let her lose her money, Marston," said Ware.
“I tell you ‘ Blacksocks' will romp in.”
Egerton went to the back line to serve, and the two men
continued their set gamely.
Gurney watched them for a while, and joined presently
in Ware's amusement when Egerton fell plump on his back
in trying to reach a ball which just scraped over the net.
“Awfully sorry, Egerton,” said Ware, shaking with laugh-
ter. “I am really.”
Happiness and good spirits were personified in him.
“By Jove, what a ripping host he is !” thought Gurney as
he strolled towards the house. “You'd think he hadn't a
care in the world. And yet he must be infernally worried.
Any way, I'm not going to trouble him now. i'll let the
damned news wait.”


CHAPTER III
I PON Gurney's departure from the room bets and other
trivialities left the minds of the two young women.
Magdalen worked at the waistcoat inordinately fast, and
Celia, by her side, watched her anxiously.
It was a charming picture they made. They were both
pretty in their respective ways: Magdalen, with her excep-
tional golden-streaked hair, her beautiful face and her dis-
tinguished bearing, which was helped by a height considerably
above the medium, forming an admirable contrast to Celia,
who was petite, lively, and quick in movement, and the proud
possessor of a little head as black as a coal, two dark brown
eyes, and a fascinating, turn-up nose.
Yet from another point of view it was an ordinary picture.
It was one that is being sat for three hundred and sixty-five
days in every year: the confidences of two girl friends.
“ I'm so sorry you're worried,” Celia said. “Is it very.
serious, dear?"
Magdalen put down her work mechanically.
“ It will mean doing something for a living,” she answered
steadily.
“Magda!”
“ Wilbury will have to be sold. Bruton Street, too."
“Oh-h! But has Sir Hubert lost as heavily as that?"
“ Practically everything.”
“Everything!”
“He admitted as much about an hour ago in this room.
There was a scene. But it isn't that he's lost," she con-
tinued, raising her voice slightly. "A wife can bear that,
and she ought to bear it. But it's different from that, Celia
- I've never told you this before -"
“What, dear?”


THE WARE CASE
27
II.
“What he hasn't gambled away he's squandered on-"
She broke off huskily and walked across the room.
Celia was silent.
“You know what I mean, dear," at length continued Mag-
dalen. “It's the story that's as old as the hills. I've been
one of a number for years."
Celia looked at her friend aghast as she paced the room,
and wondered how any man alive could throw a glance upon
any other woman if once he had seen her.
Magdalen returned to her side and sat down again. Once
more did she rest her elbows on her knees and her chin on
her hands.
“I've been simply tramping about the grounds like a mad
thing,” she said.
“Oh, why didn't you come to me?” asked Celia, as she
laid her hand tenderly on her arm.
“ No,” came the nervous answer. “ It was one of those
moments when you have to be alone; when you're on edge
with everybody; and when you have to keep walking —
walking away from something that's always catching you
up.”
“I know, dear,” said the other gently.
“Oh, you can't know. It's a feeling that only comes to a
woman who has made a mistake – a feeling of loathing for
everything and everybody.”
Celia grasped her hand.
“Yes, Celia, that was my feeling," she continued vehe-
mently. “And these four years have been my training for
it; ever since my marriage. That was the mistake I shall
never be forgiven. I was let in for it, urged into it by my
father. Ambition was his curse. Hubert, a baronet, rich,
position, and all the rest of it. Not a thought as to happi-
ness. That didn't count with my father. And if anyone
mentioned it, it was always money that could buy it. Noth-
ing else, he said. It was his Stock Exchange way of looking
at things. If my mother had been alive it might have been
different. When I hesitated to accept Hubert, my father
told me of his will. I had to marry well, he said, because,
apart from a small settlement on me, he was going to leave


28
THE WARE CASE
everything to Eustace. Oh, he meant it well for me, I sup-
pose, but he chivvied me into it when I was just twenty-one.
Hubert was charming, handsome, and — well, I made the
mistake I shall never be forgiven. I don't deserve to be. I
oughtn't to have made it. You're not let off lightly for a
mistake like that.”
“ It was a shame of your father. It wasn't your fault;
I'm hanged if it was,” said Celia stoutly.
“ It was a mad act, mad— mad," answered Magdalen
strongly; " and out in the park there I've been trying to run
away from it. As if I could! It was only when I reached
the far end of the lake that I saw a means of escape.”
“Magda!” cried out Celia fearfully.
" It was the one spot which showed me a future.”
“No, no, no! You shan't talk like that. You shan't
think like it,” the little friend exclaimed, with all the love in
her body, as she held the beautiful woman by both shoulders
and stared in to her great eyes.
“You darling!” whispered Magdalen tenderly, the corners
of her mouth twisting up into a smile. “ You have a dear
face, you know."
"Oh, but it's a shame, Magda. It's wicked!” said Celia
violently. And she walked across the room.
“Don't leave me, Celia !”
“ Leave you!” answered the girl. “As if I'd leave
you!”
“ It's been a relief to talk.”
“ And you've kept all this to yourself, Magda. Why didn't
you tell me before?”
“Oh, I don't know," Magdalen replied quietly, with a
shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing could undo it. And to
bore other people with one's troubles is rather a selfish busi-
ness.”
That was her youthful way of putting it. If she had been
older, with the bloom of her charm faded, she might have
argued more bitterly: that other people's love affairs are
decidedly esoteric and vastly uninteresting; that to gain sym-
pathy you must exhibit a gaping wound, or lean on a crutch,
or go blind; but that compassion, fellow-feeling, forbearance


THE WARE CASE
29
are rarely extended to mental suffering which must be kept
to yourself religiously while you maintain to their full meas-
ure your reputation for high spirits and infectious laughter,
your fame as a conversationalist, your renown as a wit, en-
during your secret silently until it shatters you.
Celia, however, was a real exception to prove the rule.
“ Fancy your talking about boring me,” she said. “I call
that perfectly horrid of you.”
Gurney at that moment returned from the tennis court.
“ Yes, Celia, Egerton still thinks · Aeroplane's' all right,”
he whispered from the window rather nervously. “He's got
a pile on it.”
“ And how much have you on?” inquired Celia, running
to him.
Gurney looked decidedly cryptic.
“ Nothing that I haven't got," was his cautious answer.
“ I'll tell you when it's over. I've the chance of bringing off
a fine coup like I did once up at Oxford. And I have an
idea,” he added, lowering his voice.
He took his wife by the arm and whispered something
into her ear.
“Yes — yes !” said Celia, clapping her hands together ex-
citedly.
Gurney looked at his watch.
“Now, if you want a bit on, I'll telephone from the hall
at once,” he said. “There's only just time.”
He ran to the door, while Celia remained in an attitude
of profound calculation.
“ Marston!” she called, evidently screwing up her courage
for a big effort. “Put a sovereign on for me.”
“Right ho!” said Marston, and he paused like all tempters.
“A fiver if you like!”
“Yes, a fiver, by Jove!” rattled out the girl, with a flushed
face. “A fiver each way,” she added, bringing down one
small fist upon the other.
Gurney ran into the hall. And Celia returned to her
friend with a pulse undoubtedly above the normal.
“You monkey, you!” said Magdalen. “ Suppose you
lose?”


30
THE WARE CASE
"Well, I shall be let down, that's all. If I win I shall be
bucked up.”
“ Celia, what's the best way for me to meet all this, I
wonder ?" Magdalen continued.
“Like a man," was the prompt reply. “ Bravely.”
“H'm! I knew you'd say that.”
“And that's the way you're going to meet it, Magda."
“ You think so ?”
“I don't think at all. I'm certain.”
.“Why?”
“Why?" queried Celia confidently. “ Simply because it's
the only way worthy of you."
“You're a great dear, Celia. But you've only been mar-
ried four months, and you think much too well of every-
body."
“Not of you. I never could think too well of you," the
girl said passionately, as she remarked a pained look cross
her friend's face. “You are one of the rare souls who rise
above things, however hard and bitter they may be.”
“Oh, no, my dear, I'm not. I'm just an ordinary moral
coward.”
“Since when, I should like to know?” protested the little
champion strongly. “You weren't when you were the big
girl at school, and I was the tiny scrap."
“Ho! Ancient history, my dear. Times have changed.
I wasn't married then,” she added bitterly.
Celia knelt by her side, pressing both her hands in hers,
and looked up into the two wonderful eyes.
“Magda, dear,” she said steadily in a low voice, " you
didn't become an ordinary moral coward two years ago."
Neither of them spoke for some seconds. Magdalen's
eyes wandered away slowly from the girl's face, and seemed
to gaze out through the wall of the room.
“Two years ago!” she said in a hushed tone.
“When your baby died,” Celia went on, clinging to her
hands. “That was a cruel wound, if you like — the deepest
in the world, they say.”
“ It never heals.”


THE WARE CASE
31
"But you bore it, dearest, and you go on bearing it
bravely. Yes, you do. I see it in your face very often."
“It's a set look in the mouth, isn't it? And a stare in
the eyes when they gaze at the fire? It's not a pretty look,
Celia.”
"It's a grand look. Oh, Magda, what is this trouble now
compared with that? The loss is so mean and small. It
can be met somehow. It must be.”
" But the cause of the loss, the humiliating cause of it,'
what of that?" asked Magdalen scornfully.
"Something will happen to make things better ; I'm sure
of it. Don't think I'm defending Sir Hubert. I'm not in
the least. I loathe him for treating you like this. But he
may be sorry. He may regret. He".
“Ah!” was the quick interruption from Magdalen, who
thought she knew her husband better.
“ Still, dear, however great this trouble, it's not like the
other. It can't be," urged Celia lovingly, as she pointed her
finger towards the window. There's nothing in it to take
you up the hill there to your baby's tiny broken column-"
“ Celia !” cried out Magdalen. “He saved me just now.
Yes, little Philip did. I was at the water's edge. The bells
rang out suddenly from the hill. And I looked there. His
tiny, white, broken column was lighted up by the sun. It
saved me! It seemed to make me live again! If I were not
here, there would be no one to look after it, no one to take a
flower! It would become neglected and forgotten like the
older ones! I couldn't bear the thought of that! I simply
couldn't bear it, Celia!”
Her head fell upon her friend's shoulder. They were
locked in each other's arms.
In another moment she looked up.
“If only I could cry!" she exclaimed piteously.
“We're quite alone. Why not?”
“I can't. I can't shed a tear."
“Now then, Magda, promise me something, will you ?”
“ What?"
“That you'll never think of doing that again."


32
THE WARE CASE
There was a long interval of silence while the two stared
at each other.
“Yes — I promise,” at length Magdalen answered.
“Faithfully?” persisted Celia brightly.
“ Faithfully."
Celia now kissed Magdalen quite differently. Before she
had not felt sure of her. She had been afraid of her next
action. She knew the strength of her will. And in its very
strength lay the danger. Now she saw clearly that, how-
ever hopelessly any words of hers might have failed, the sight
of the little gravestone had saved her. She was tolerably se-
cure in her mind now.
Had she seen her near the lake when the bells pealed out
she would not have had a doubt. No one has been closer to
death than was the beautiful figure in white at that moment.
No one has fled from it faster through the gift of an uncon-
ventional mind. Had she been cast in an ordinary mould
the chances are that the sight of the broken column would
have given a further impetus to her determination, and
added the longing to lie by its side. It was otherwise with
her.
Magdalen responded whole-heartedly to that confident
kiss from Celia. She took the little, dark face in both her
hands and scanned it closely. The set, hunted look, which
a second ago filled the beautiful eyes, vanished. There was
even a merry twinkle in them now.
“I wish I had that dear turn-up nose,” she said with a
funny sigh.
“ You humbug, Magda,” laughed out Celia.
“Oh, but it's a heavenly nose.”
“It's nothing of the sort, you wretch," rejoined its owner,
without in the least meaning it.
“Well, it's looking up there,” Magdalen was quick to
reply. The two might have continued chaffing each other
indefinitely, had they not caught sight of the door opening
exceedingly slowly. It was indicative of the approaching
entrance of a gigantic packing-case, or possibly of an un-
dertaker, so ponderous was the movement.
Finally their curiosity was satisfied by the return of Gur-


THE WARE CASE
33
ney, to whom, judging from his face, which had added
inches to its length since he left the room, some appall-
ing catastrophe must have befallen in the space of five
minutes.
Celia stared at him blankly, afraid at first to question
him. And Magdalen remained silent, with her eyes fixed
upon him.
Celia at length mustered up courage as she looked at
her husband's dejected expression.
“ What's — what's the matter, Marston?” she cried.
“I've done it,” he answered gloomily. “I've telephoned
for you."
“ To the bookie? And you weren't in time? Oh-h!”
“ I'm afraid I was," he said, in the same hopeless voice.
“ Afraid ? ” was his wife's perplexed question.
“ Yes, I don't feel so comfortable about it now.”
Magdalen shook with laughter.
“Oh, but this is no laughing matter, Magda,” said Celia,
pursing up two rather pretty lips.
“Oh, yes — it - is – oh-h!” jerked out the other, almost
beyond control. “I thought at least we'd gone to war with
Germany. Oh-oh, Marston, forgive me, won't you? I—
I know your feeling so well. I've never made a bet with a
bookie yet that I haven't regretted it.”
“I haven't had a go like this for ages, Lady Ware, and
I've got out of my stride, you know," answered Gurney
nervously.
“But have you very much on?” Celia asked anxiously.
“I'll tell you when it's over, dear, not before. Phew!”
Gurney went out into the garden, and sat under a Jap-
anese umbrella, with a lemon squash in one hand and a fan
in the other.
“You're all right, Celia,” said Magdalen. “You made no
mistake when you married Marston. He's intensely hu-
man.”
“Rather a dear, isn't he?” rejoined Celia.
“ You won't be tripped up. Your story at the end of
four years won't be mine. I'd lay any money on that.”
Celia gripped her hand.


34
THE WARE CASE
“Thank God you'll never have for your husband the
feeling I have for mine."
“I understand," whispered Celia gently.
“You do possibly. But the world wouldn't. Good heav-
ens, no! It labels him the most generous fellow that ever
stepped, who would give his last shilling to help a pal, and
who never makes an ill-natured remark about anyone; a
man who never varies, but is the same fascinating creature
under all circumstances, with the gift of making the last
person he meets feel that he is the most welcome at that
particular moment — just the very one of all he wants to see,
That is Hubert's character. And the world from Bond
Street to Whitechapel would call me lucky woman. That's
the word they'd use. Can't you hear them saying it? But
the world's short-sighted if it's pleased, Celia. It doesn't
see that a man who earns a reputation like that has to blow
off the steam somewhere out of sight, and that his home
is his safety-valve.”
She had risen to her feet and gone to the window. The
words were rapped out pointedly, incisively. She had al-
most forgotten her friend's presence in the room. She was
speaking out her inmost thoughts. And yet while she ut-
tered them it seemed to Celia that those she did not utter
were sterner still.
Celia, however, in addition to her comeliness, possessed
considerable tact. She remained silent, thinking that if
Magdalen wished further to confide in her she would do so
in her own way and at her own time. As she sat watching
her standing motionless in the sunlight, with her eyes upon
the distant hill, she thought that she looked more beautiful
than she had ever looked before, and that assuredly she was
the most lovely creature in the world. She pondered over
the incongruity of it all. Carking care fitted those graceful
shoulders badly.
But the peremptory sound of the telephone in the hall
dragged both of them back from the kingdom of thoughts
to the arena of reality.
“Shall I answer it, dear?” asked Celia anxiously.
“ It can't be the Leger yet, Celia,” said Magdalen with a


THE WARE CASE
35
smile. “Rate will see to it. It's only a 'dun’ probably,"
she added, with a shrug of the shoulders.
“Magda, forgive my asking, but as regards Sir Hubert,
what are you going to do?”
“ Stiffen my back, I suppose, and bear it.”
“ Ah, that's your real self, if you like,” said Celia proudly.
“ To join the common 'rut' and go in for divorce or sep-
aration doesn't appeal to me somehow. I detest publicity.
And all that sort of thing smacks of advertisement and
the limelight. It's rather lonesome to me. Honestly, I'd
sooner die than stand up in a witness-box before a herd of
briefless youths in wigs and gowns to tell a story like mine."
“Awful!” ejaculated her friend, in complete amazement.
“Oh, but I should like to put it all on a higher plane than
that. Do you know, Celia, I was thinking just now of
something your dear father once said. It was in the last
sermon he preached — two years ago, just after I lost my
baby.” She swallowed with difficulty. “And I know he
meant it for me," she continued with a smile. “His text
was rather a fine one. I've never forgotten it. It was
from Proverbs — If thou faint in the day of adversity thy
strength is small.' And he enlarged upon it in that ador-
able, sympathetic way he had. I can quote his words, I be..
lieve: 'To accept one's lot. To bear sorrow patiently with-
out rebellion. And if given an excuse for yielding to temp-
tation, not to seize it, but to resist it - er —” She stopped
in her effort to remember the rest.
“* Be the excuse ever so mighty,'” said Celia, helping
her.
“ That was it. 'Be the excuse ever so mighty.' I can
see him now, the dear, good soul that he was, with his eyes
quite moist, looking down at me over those great, round
pectacles of looking T; good secuse ever
"He helped you then, didn't he, Magda ? So let him
help you now just as if he were here."
“Yes," replied Magdalen happily. “That's a much loft-
ier plane to put it on, isn't it?"
Rate came into the room from the hall.
“Mr. Adye's clerk is on the telephone from London, my


36
THE WARE CASE
lady,” he announced, with his customary pained expression.
Magdalen's face became suddenly transformed. And
Celia was quick to notice it. She looked in a flash quite
radiant.
“Mr. Adye's clerk?” she asked almost incredulously.
“Yes, my lady,” replied the butler. “He's speaking from
Mr. Adye's chambers at the Temple, and asked for your
ladyship. He says he's been trying to get our number for
some time. I've held the line, my lady.”
“Put him through to me here,” said Magdalen eagerly.
Rate disappeared to do as he was told. And Magdalen,
quite oblivious to Celia's company, uttered a suppressed cry
of delight. As she paced the room now with a light step
she was scarcely recognizable. And Celia could scarcely
believe that it was the same tortured soul who had unbur-
dened her heart to her but a minute ago. But it was not
for Celia to remark the change. She contented herself with
a commonplace observation.
“I suppose it was my bet that was engaging the line,"
was all she said.
Magdalen did not seem to hear her as she hastily took
up the receiver.
“Yes — yes — it's Lady Ware speaking,” she said quite
composedly into the instrument. “Yes, I hear — you're Mr.
Adye's clerk. Very well. I understand. Thank you.
Good-bye.”
She left the table and sat down close to Celia, who was
concealing her thoughts in the luxury of the Adams sofa.
“A message from Mr. Adye?” asked Celia casually.
“Er — yes. He left town in his car about forty minutes
ago. He's coming to see me.”
“Quite a long time since he came, isn't it?”.
“ Yes, it is rather. But it's just like Mike to turn up
when one needs a friend.”
“What an extraordinary success he's been!”
“Yes, about the biggest practice at the Bar now.”
“Fancy that! And he's only — how old is he exactly,
Magda ?"
"Mike? Thirty-seven.”


THE WARE CASE
37
“Marvellous, isn't it? And in politics too. I love his
speeches.”
“ Yes, Attorney-General in the next Government for a
certainty. And probably the future Lord Chancellor.”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed Celia thoughtfully.
Magdalen looked at the clock upon the mantelpiece
quickly.
“He ought to be here soon,” she said very eagerly.
“ Magda — Magda!” said Celia in a low, reproachful
voice, as she held up a warning finger to her friend.
“Yes, I know," Magdalen rejoined playfully. “You —
you think it might be dangerous for him to come just
now."
“No, you duffer, not dangerous, because I know you'd
never -"
“No, no, of course not,” said Magdalen, whose tone of
voice did not strike her little friend as being over strong.
“ Celia, I've told you a good deal. I'll tell you something
more. When you were studying that year in Dresden, and I
became engaged to Hubert, I could have married Michael if
I had chosen.”
“ Oh-h!” exclaimed Celia with real regret.
“But the dear thing didn't speak,” Magdalen continued.
“And he never gave me the veriest inkling that he cared for
me in that way. I'd simply looked upon him as a sort of
wise elder brother, always ready to advise me about in-
vestments and all that kind of thing. I never had a sus-
picion of it till I found it out by accident a year afterwards
- just at the moment, too, when the hideous blunder of my
marriage was coming home to me.”
“How did you find it out? Not from him, was it?"
ed Celia fearfully. He's never opened insiderate en
“Of course not. He's never opened his lips to me. No,
it was old Lady Blatchfield who was considerate enough to
select that charming psychological moment,” replied Magda-
len sarcastically.
“Just the sort of thing she would do, with that painted
face of hers,” rapped out Celia.
“ Yes, she didn't spare me,” Magdalen continued bitterly.


38
THE WARE CASE
“She piled it on. Said what a pity it was M.A., as she
called him, didn't marry; that, with such a remarkable fu-
ture before him, it was indecent of him not to. You know
the way she talks."
"A regular old political schemer, that's all she is,” inter-
rupted Celia indignantly.
“I agreed with her, of course," proceeded Magdalen.
“ And then it was that she asked me why on earth I hadn't
married him. And she went on to say that she knew for
a fact that he was over head and ears in love with me; and
not only that, but that, having let that chance slip, he never
intended to marry as long as he lived. Celia, I've been mis-
erable ever since.”
“ The old reptile!” muttered the girl.
“And yet I've been happy too."
Celia clutched her arm firmly.
“Yes, I have," repeated Magdalen vehemently. “And
I'm glad he's coming. I admit it; I admit it!”
Men's voices approaching from the garden were audible.
“Come in, Egerton, and see my wife,” said Ware gaily
upon the terrace.
“Ssh!” whispered Magdalen to Celia, “they've finished
their game."


CHAPTER IV
66LOW do you do, Sir Henry?” said Magdalen cheer-
11 fully, as she extended her hand to Egerton. “Had
a good game? ”
“ Capital, Lady Ware."
“The best, dear," added Ware charmingly.
“ Yes, but your husband's nearly killed me,” said Eger-
ton, wiping his face. “ I'm really not presentable. Two
long sets when you're nearing fifty, and the thermometer 82
in the shade."
Ware laughed heartily.
“But he scorned a four when I recommended it,” he said
to Magdalen.
“Quite right,” said Egerton. “It was only my chaff.
It's exercise I need, Lady Ware. With my work I can't
get on without it.”
“Well, let's sit outside and cool down, eh?” remarked
Ware. “ There are drinks on the terrace. Come on,
Magda.”
They all went out as suggested, and enjoyed what air
there was under the protection of a vast awning of brilliant
colours, such as may be seen at the villas on the Lake of
Como.
With the assistance of two footmen Rate had placed upon
a table there the choicest cigars, the most expensive cig-
arettes, the best lemons, the purest aerated waters, and the
inevitable whisky. He had directed an arrangement of the
most luxurious garden chairs and chaises longues imaginable
with a Japanese fan placed handily upon each; and alto-
gether it formed the coolest and shadiest nook procurable
in the circumstances.
In every sense it was conducive to peaceful thought and
enjoyment. Magdalen reclined gracefully upon a chaise
39


40
THE WARE CASE
longue with a mind outwardly as clear as crystal; Celia,
after bunching up the cushions for her, joined her husband
under the Japanese umbrella in the rose-garden to discuss
further the chances of “ Aeroplane ”; Egerton leaned back
in his comfortable chair with a sigh of complete content-
ment; and Ware, having offered a lemon-squash to Mag-
dalen, which she declined, and one to Egerton, which he
accepted, mixed himself a moderately strong whisky and
soda.
Deservedly he had earned the reputation of a model host,
and Magdalen's description of him to Celia just now was
a very fair one. Ware was popular wherever he went.
Apart from his social standing, his charm of manner was
his passport to a remarkable degree, and his exceedingly
handsome face and elegant figure made him the reverse of
harmless with the ladies. He had but to choose; and if he
did, there were precious few of what nowadays must be
called the “stronger sex ” who resisted him. And how
they all envied Lady Ware!
With men it was the same story. “Hubby" Ware, as he
was called, was hail-fellow-well-met everywhere. He was
prodigal in his generosity, rarely failed to help his friends,
never failed to pay his bets, kept the best cook in London,
shot well, rode well, and was a first-class card player. What
more do you want to make you popular? Do not these
qualifications alone create you a persona grata? If, too, in
passing, you are also the proud possessor of some title,
and perchance have about you an air of refinement, innate
or acquired, there is not a door that you cannot fling wide
open. You have the key in your pocket.
Sir Hubert Ware was in that “ fortunate position.” To
begin with, he was a baronet — the second one. His father,
Sir Joseph, was the first. Cotton and that well-worn step-
ping-stone called “philanthropy” had secured it for him
after repeated efforts personal and vicarious, large expense
and considerable “blowing of his own trumpet.” But he
was a decent fellow, they said, although he was a vulgar
devil, and his use of the knife and fork was distinctly
Teutonic.


THE WARE CASE
41
Hubert was his only child, and Sir Joseph and her lady-
ship had ideas concerning him. At least Sir Joseph had.
It always was doubtful if her ladyship until the day of her
death had any ideas. According to her contemporaries
beauty was her one and only recommendation. No doubt,
then, she was solely responsible for the exceptionally good
looks of her son. Unquestionably Sir Joseph had no share
in them. Well, shortly before his wife's death, which oc-
curred when Hubert was twelve, Sir Joseph propounded his
plans for the boy's future. He was born, he said, with a
golden spoon in his mouth, and must live up to it. There
were to be none of the struggles of youth such as the father
had had to endure. His path must be rolled very smooth.
“The best public school and the University for my son!”
he said. “No expense spared!” And he set to work en-
thusiastically to map out for the boy a luxurious and self-
indulgent existence. He encouraged it and thought it gen-
tlemanly. Hubert, with plenty of money, was able to do
what other boys did, and from the earliest age “went the
pace.” But the father was pleased. His vanity was tickled.
Was not Lord T. Hubert's most intimate schoolfellow?
Did not Hubert spend part of his holidays at Lord T.'s
father's country seat — the Marquess of A.? And had not
Lord T. the same tastes ? The youngster was always in
debt, but he had had it so impressed upon him that his
father was his best friend, and that, when in a mess, he
must go to him immediately, that he acquired that not un-
known habit of never thinking for himself, but only of
himself. It was not his fault. It was, you will think, about
the most foolish, if not culpable, bringing-up of a boy con-
ceivable; and actually by a father reputed all his life as a
hard-headed business man! But ye gods! vanity is a ma-
lignant growth, and with Sir Joseph its microbes bred at a
prodigious pace. They gobbled up every business instinct,
and gnawed away all common sense.
The shield had, of course, its other side. Hubert made
hosts of friends, and, through the inestimable advantage of
a refined association, acquired that something which is so
difficult to describe, but which, coupled with a prepossessing


42
THE WARE CASE
appearance, carries you very far upon the road to pros-
perity or damnation. In due course he went up to the Uni-
versity well equipped for a joyous time. His father re-
ceived his baronetcy, and Hubert was his heir. His college
days gave him “the time of his life.” He had the entrée
to every club he chose to join; he was the best-dressed man
of his year; if he did very little reading he did a great deal
of racing; he entertained en prince; and he paid for noth-
ing. Three years of this existence had galloped by when
one night in his rooms, while presiding at his roulette table,
the telephone informed him of Sir Joseph's sudden death.
He had expired apparently at the dinner table, having eaten,
it was hinted, too Teutonicly. Young Sir Hubert inherited
his entire fortune minus a large sum of money which the
old man, from no altruistic motive, directed to be applied
towards the building and endowment of a ward at St. Se-
bastian's Hospital“ upon the strict condition that it be known
perpetually as the “Sir Joseph Ware Ward,' and that these
words be repainted annually in legible type both outside and
inside its entrance."
This made a hole in the invested capital, but the new
baronet was nevertheless a rich man, and in the opinion of
the world a decidedly eligible husband.
However, 97 Bruton Street and Wilbury for the remain-
ing eight years of his bachelorhood were occupied by him
spasmodically. By force of habit he had cultivated a rest-
less existence. No race meeting was complete without
Hubby Ware. He was deservedly popular with all the book-
makers, for, like most mortals, he lost on the whole, and he
always paid. He was a marked figure at the Savoy, the
Carlton, and the Ritz, where he was an ideal customer upon
a large scale; the best restaurants in Paris and Vienna knew
him almost as well; and he frequently took his Rolls-Royce
across the Channel for a Continental motor-tour at an ex-
cessive speed in more senses than one, regularly halting at
Monte Carlo and Aix at the correct seasons of the year.
But these little amusements have an ugly knack of costing
more than a little money. Accordingly there arrived a time
when, to settle his debts, Ware commenced the practice,


THE WARE CASE
43
which later became an annual one, of diving into his capital.
His solicitor, who knew him well enough to be candid and
was an expert in conventional advice, begged him to “ draw
in,” and urged him to “settle down." Ware, at the age of
thirty-one, agreed with him. And out of a large circle of
acquaintances he threw his eye upon the beautiful Magdalen
Ede, and asked her to be his wife. She was barely twenty-
one at the time, and we know from her own lips how she
came to accept him, and how they had now been married
four years. We have it also from her that her opinion of
her husband differed from that of the world. Which of
these two divergent views was correct remains to be seen.
In any event the Ware case was not an unknown one.
One fact, however, was manifest. A crash in that house
was imminent. It was approaching with overwhelming
force, surely and swiftly. After a cursory glimpse into
Ware's career and upbringing it was inevitable. Lack of
discipline and self-indulgence had been his enemies. And
they were his deadliest enemies of all. Having dclared war
upon him, they waged it remorselessly with the most for-
midable strategy, the most invincible tactics. And the in-
demnity they exacted was crushing.
Here in the case of these two people all comfort and
luxury enjoyed for so long would be forced to give place
to comparative poverty. Magdalen recognized this fully as
we know, and, with many more thoughts than she gave ut-
terance to, was racking her brains as to the way to meet it.
She had conquered the feeling of despair, and her one ab-
sorbing wish, so characteristic of her sex, was to rise to the
emergency courageously and practically. But the wish is
one thing; the method is another. And remembering that
the full realization of their ruin had been brought home to
her by her husband but one short hour ago, it is not sur-
prising that for the moment she was unable to find the path
which might extricate herself and Ware from a maze of
difficulty.
In her stormy interview with him in the library, to which
she had alluded to Celia, their financial position in the main
was made clear to her. Ware's capital was exhausted.


44
THE WARE CASE
Wilbury and 97 Bruton Street were heavily mortgaged.
Ware could no longer meet the interest, nor any of the
manifold obligations surrounding him. Nothing, in fact, re-
mained to them except Magdalen's own money, amounting
to ten thousand pounds settled upon her by her father when
she married, and a like sum settled upon her at the same
time by her husband. This, apart from some Great West-
ern shares in Magdalen's name, was all that was safe. Upon
an income, therefore, of less than a thousand a year, these
two, to whom nothing had been denied, would have to exist.
But that thought alone did not fill her cup of suffering.
To a woman of her temperament, with a genuine horror
of publicity, the contemplation of bankruptcy and the dis-
grace attached to it was appalling. Had it been due to mis-
fortune, or bad judgment, she could have faced it nobly,
painful as it might be. She would have stood loyally by
any man who had treated her honourably. Is there a single
good woman in the world who would not?
But here the tale was wholly different. A fortune had
been Aung away wantonly. It had been squandered upon
other women who could laugh at her, women who would
laugh at her as surely as the night precedes the day. And
for all she knew the whole story with its edifying ram-
ifications might be revealed at his Examination. Probably
it would be, she thought. There was no knowing how far it
might not lead, what wretchedly sordid details might not
be dragged out. She conjured up visions of the newspa-
pers with their flaming headlines distributing broadcast the
miserable history, and giving it piquancy by the reproduction
of photographs of the husband and wife who had been mar-
ried only four years. And to her proud nature the very
notion of the pity she would receive was a torture. She
felt insulted, degraded, humiliated — she of all women on
the earth! Is it surprising that she had tried to die?
But Egerton, looking at the husband and wife at that
moment, outwardly happy and composed in their charming
surroundings, had no suspicion of an impending storm, nor
of the lack of sympathy between them. Being, perhaps, of
a satirical turn of mind, you will accept that as natural from


THE WARE CASE
45
the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department at Scot-
land Yard. But you would, indeed, be doing Egerton an
injustice. Sir Hubert and Lady Ware were such an ex-
emplary host and hostess that not only detectives, but any-
one, would have been deceived.
“Ah, I feel better,” said Egerton, putting down his glass.
“ But I wish I hadn't to go to Scotland Yard to-night.”
“ Must you?” asked Ware. “ Can't you stop and dine?”
“Afraid not.”
“ Anything exciting on?”
“ Well, it's a complicated case.”
“Murder?” asked Ware, with the keenest interest.
“ Well, yes, it is a murder."
“A good one, eh?"
“ Now, what does he mean by a good one?” inquired
Egerton laughingly of Magdalen, who shook her head with
a smile.
“Well, a real thriller," answered Ware readily. “A mys-
tery which the halfpenny press describes as deepening every
day; something to devour before you get up in the morning;
something --"
“ That draws the entire theatrical profession to the Old
Bailey?” queried Egerton.
“That's it!” Ware exclaimed with enthusiasm.
" And testifies to the growing Continental propensities of
the London mob,” added Magdalen.
“Well, this might, Lady Ware," continued Egerton, “ if
it ever got as far as the Old Bailey. It's the Soho murder."
“A splendid one!” said Ware.
“Ha! But a teaser," was the reply.
“ But you know, Egerton, all your good murder cases are
teasers now," Ware argued. “They are always remaining
undiscovered crimes. It's getting deadly monotonous. The
truth of the matter is that all these murderers are too cun-
ning for you."
" And you are too good and too straight for them, Sir
Henry,” said Magdalen charmingly.
Egerton leaned forward in his chair and bowed to her
gallantly.


46
THE WARE CASE
“That's just it, dear," interrupted Ware, while he re-
garded Egerton with a twinkle. “My dear fellow, you're
becoming a public scandal. No, but, joking apart, all those
chaps under you at Scotland Yard want shaking up. They're
behind the times. The moment they join the detective force
they ought to be inoculated.”
“ Inoculated ?” said Egerton perplexedly.
“Yes, with some new sort of serum of craftiness, patented
by _"
“ Yourself, eh, Ware? Now, there's a chance for you if
you like," was Egerton's jocular reply. “But seriously,
though, a murder is often a good deal more intricate than the
public imagines. Even when you catch your bird, to get a
conviction from a jury the evidence must be pretty conclu-
sive. One weak bar in the cage and away he flies.”
“Until he's caught again,” said Magdalen.
“Oh, on some new charge altogether, you mean?” Egerton
queried casually.
“No, not a new charge, Sir Henry.. I meant the same
charge. Suppose you found some fresh evidence?”
" It would be worthless, my dear lady. We simply couldn't
touch him. He never could be tried again on the same charge,
you see.”
“But why not?”
“Because it's the law."
“ You mean to say that is the law ?” And Magdalen's
finely pencilled eyebrows formed two perfect triumphal
arches.
“I do indeed,” was the quiet but emphatic answer.
Magdalen looked somewhat disgusted, and could have
waxed eloquent had she chosen. But she did not choose.
“Then Sam Weller was right," was all she said.
"Absolutely," replied Egerton in complete agreement with
her. “But there it is. A man could be tried and acquitted
of any criminal charge you like, and five minutes afterwards,
if he chose, he could go off to Trafalgar Square and publicly
proclaim his guilt. And neither the Director of Public Pros-
ecutions nor myself with my entire force, freshly inoculated
with your serum, Ware, could touch him. As far as that


THE WARE CASE
47
charge is concerned, of which a jury has once acquitted him,
he's scot free for ever.”
“Perfectly colossal!” exclaimed Ware.
This exposition of the criminal law greatly interested
Magdalen. It took her completely out of herself, and she
cordially endorsed her husband's remark. It was natural,
too, that a discussion of this nature should lead further, and
that an apparent anomaly to the lay mind should involve
argument. Magdalen had an active brain, and liked to un-
derstand things. The why and the wherefore appealed to
her. And this dictum just propounded by Egerton, who knew
what he was talking about, was a revelation to her, as it may
be to not a few others. She tackled him, therefore, upon the
creation of the Court of Criminal Appeal. What was the
meaning of its existence? What did it sit for?
Egerton explained generally that it was for the benefit of
convicted prisoners who could, with leave, appeal to it against
an adverse verdict given at their trial. He showed Magdalen
that on appeal a sentence, though often reduced, was occasion-
ally increased, or a conviction quashed; that usually three
judges sat in the Court of Criminal Appeal; and that at times,
owing to some trifling technical oversight at his trial, the most
flagrant ruffian unhung could appeal successfully and escape
the gallows, the Court of Criminal Appeal up to the time
“ for going to Press” not having, forsooth, the power pos-
sessed by the Court of Appeal in civil cases to order a new
trial.
Magdalen was quick enough to grasp this last point, and
to apply it logically to the commencement of the discussion.
She faced Egerton very intelligently, and said that, according
to him, the man who had been convicted at his trial, but who
on appeal had his conviction quashed on the ground of some
trumpery technicality, could there and then with impunity
tell the whole Bench that he was guilty, and leave the court a
free man!
“ You have it, Lady Ware," he said. “There's no getting
away from that.”
“ Then let me understand,” she proceeded, “because this is
extraordinarily interesting."


48
THE WARE CASE
- --- -
-
--
“Why, Magda, you're getting as keen on criminal matters
as I am. Splendid !” interrupted Ware, in high spirits.
She kept her mind to the point, and did not seem to hear
her husband.
“It comes to this, doesn't it, Sir Henry?” she continued;
“a man can appeal against a conviction, but - oh, dear! I
don't know how to put it.”
“ The Crown never in any circumstances can appeal against
a verdict of not guilty,” explained Egerton. “A man once
acquitted of a criminal charge never can be retried upon it,
no matter how guilty he is.”
“Well, I agree with my wife," said Ware. “I think the
law is idiotic. You ought to agitate to get it altered.”
Magdalen then noticed the suspicion of a yawn hovering
round the corners of Egerton's mouth. And while personally
she felt grateful to a new topic, which had enabled her to
forget other matters, she feared that he was scarcely inter-
ested to the same degree in what to him was a hackneyed
subject.
“What a shame of me, Sir Henry, to make you talk shop!”
she said.
“At any rate, it's the most fascinating shop there is,”
protested Ware.
“ Crime?” said Egerton. “To you, I know, you morbid
wretch!”
“Yes, I've a pile of books on crime in my library - Eng-
lish and French,” Ware continued, as he proceeded to enu-
merate them: “. Celebrated Trials,' six volumes; “La
Criminalité Comparée '; ‘La Criminologie '; and a lot more.
They're the chief relaxation in my strenuous life.”
It was a quaint hobby, you may think, for a man of Ware's
tastes. But incontestably he was by no means exceptional.
Not in the least. He was, indeed, only one out of that large
number of well-groomed people of both sexes who, having
successfully pestered the Under-Sheriff for tickets, will actu-
ally breakfast at half-past eight or nine, and for days on end
will sit glued to the seats of the Old Bailey to hear a murder
trial. I verily believe that the ladies, if they could, would
pay an annual rent for a “sitting" there as well as at St.


THE WARE CASE
49
Peter's, Eaton Square, and that their attendance would be
more regular. What does the poor devil on trial for his life
think of them?
“Well, it's a weird taste of yours, Ware,” said Egerton
laughingly.
“By the way, I was reading a fascinating murder last night.
A French one," said Ware, with considerable relish.
“Oh, lord !” exclaimed Egerton, covering his face with his
hands.
“Ah, but they do them so picturesquely over there some-
how. This was as far back as '86, but it was quite new to
me.”
“ Nonsense!” And Egerton smiled at Magdalen.
“ Yes, really," Ware continued. “So I entered it in my
book-diary.”
“ Your what?”
“My book-diary. I enter every good crime in it on the
date I first read it.”
“Well, you're a marvel.”
And so the conversation had drifted on. Everything must
have a beginning. And the beginning here was tennis!


CHAPTER V
COLTAVE a weed, Egerton ? " said Ware, opening a box,
11 after a good laugh. “I think you liked those the
other day."
* Thanks, I can't refuse them," was Egerton's reply, while
he struck a match. “They're wonderful.”
Magdalen, recognizing that if men once get on to the sub-
ject of cigars or wine the sitting is likely to be a long one,
rose from her chaise longue. It certainly was not a topic to
interest her deeply in her existing frame of mind. On the
contrary, it was calculated to bring her back completely to
herself and to the present. And it did so with a jerk. She
thought she heard a motor-horn not far away, and rushed
instantly to the conclusion that it must be Michael Adye's.
She hoped devoutly that it might be, for the truth was that,
though she had not said so in words to Celia, she longed to
see him. She left her husband and Egerton to enjoy their
cigars, and from a point upon the terrace a few yards away,
with a heart thumping in her throat, stood watching a patch
of the main road just visible through a gap in the trees. It
was there that the man who loved her would pass. It was
there that she cherished the youthful hope of catching an
early glimpse of the man who could have made her happy.
And anyone watching her would have detected the look of
disappointment which crossed her face when, looking for a
green car, she descried a red one.
It was not his motor-horn yet. But he was on his way.
Fate was ordaining the meeting of these two. It was de-
creeing the bringing together of a man and a woman at a
perilous moment in their lives. When Michael Adye, K.C., :
M.P., jumped into his six-cylinder Napier in King's Bench
Walk, there was in his step and every movement the elasticity
of a boy. And it was difficult with his youthful mien to
50


THE WARE CASE
51
realize the remarkable position he had attained both at the
Bar and in the House of Commons. But he was one of those
brilliant creatures whom nothing in any career that he might
have chosen could hold back. He was altogether exceptional,
and Magdalen had not exaggerated in telling Celia that he
was sure of the Attorney-Generalship in the next Government
and of the Woolsack in his maturer years. He was an elo-
quent platform speaker, with terse, direct, simple sentences
which he never blurred with qualifications; a master with a
jury, and equally admirable in the Court of Appeal; and he
combined with these what does not always follow — a perfect
“House of Commons manner.” When he “was up" the
benches filled rapidly, and in the Mother of Parliaments he
was one of the mighty few worth listening to. Six feet tall
and as thin as a lath, you took it for granted that he estab-
lished the three-mile record for his University at Queen's
Club. And when you looked into his deep-sunk, piercing
brown eyes you invariably felt thankful that he was not to
cross-examine you. Altogether his appearance, devoid of
eccentricity or affectation, was a very striking one. He had
one of those long thin faces over which the skin seems to
be drawn very tightly; a well-chiselled nose upon the aqui-
line side; firmly set full lips which could turn up humorously
at the corners; and a powerful chin, which meant business
when the slightly underhung jaw asserted itself. He appealed
forcibly to women, who often prefer an attractive ugliness to
the beauty of an Adonis. He was, too, as well known by
sight as any man in London. A remark which greeted him as
he turned into the Strand was evidence of that.
“ There's ‘M. A.,'” said one young fellow to another.
He laughed to himself for more reasons than one. Whereas
formerly the nickname was somewhat distinctive, it had now,
he considered, ceased to be so altogether. It was not only
applicable to the degree of Master of Arts, but to Music Hall
Artistes as well. He was young, too, in heart as well as in
looks. On that afternoon he was supremely happy to have
a reason, painful as that reason might be, to take him to
Wilbury after a fairly long absence to see the one woman who
in all his life had really influenced him. He wished to be-


52
THE WARE CASE
friend her if he could. He yearned to be near her in her hour
of need. He would do anything to help her in any way she
asked. He loved her silently. She was the wife of another
man. And he cursed his luck.
He reckoned that in forty minutes he would be by her
side, but there appeared to be a conspiracy against him. At
Piccadilly Circus and in Regent Street he found that the
authorities had become enlightened and were actually relay-
ing the wood-pavement in the autumn instead of in the height
of the season. This necessitated a détour. Later, in the
neighbourhood of Willesden, an overheated engine, which of
course had never become overheated before, caused a further
delay. In the circumstances he did not accept these small
hindrances philosophically. On the contrary, like many an-
other clever person, whether in Parliament or not, his lan-
guage was decidedly unparliamentary. And when finally at
Harrow a tyre burst, the report of the explosion was only to
be equalled by the maledictions of its owner, whom in this
respect a gift of the gab, when occasion demanded it, cer-
tainly did not desert.
Magdalen saw many cars pass during her vigil, but never
the right one. It was the old story of the “watched pot.”
And, realizing this, she rejoined Egerton and her husband
simultaneously with Gurney and Celia, who came up the steps
to the terrace from the west side of the garden.
“Hallo, Marston!” said Ware. “I wondered what had
become of you."
"I went down to the lake and bathed,” Gurney answered
nervously.
"No news of the race yet,” remarked Egerton slyly to
him.
“No. Phew! that's why I bathed.”
“You're just fairly on the wrong ’un, Marston," was
Ware's consoling observation. “You're going to get it in
the neck. In half an hour's time we shall hear ‘ Blacksocks'
has won.”
"Oh, well, Sir Hubert, that's all right,” replied Gurney,
with a distinctly forced gaiety.


THE WARE CASE
53
knowoerton bago and we'll m
“I'm sorry, old fellow, but you're going to lose your
money."
Celia uttered a cry of alarm, and Gurney proceeded to bite
his nails.
“Well, I don't think so," said Egerton sympathetically.
“Oh, thank you, Sir Henry," exclaimed the girl. “You
know I've backed ‘ Aeroplane’ too on your advice.”
Egerton laughed and took her hand.
“Let us go and knock the croquet balls about, Mrs. Gur-
ney," he said. “We'll make this half hour pass somehow,
eh?”
“ It will never pass,” was Celia's doleful answer, as she
walked off with Egerton to the east lawn.
“ Did Eustace bathe with you, Marston ? " asked Magdalen.
“No, Lady Ware. I tried to persuade him to. But he's
rather 'off' with us, I'm afraid. He said if he bathed he'd
bathe alone. So I left him up in his room.”
“ Poor old Eustace!” said Ware somewhat sorrowfully.
“Yes,” agreed Magdalen, “we were rather hard on him
just now, I think, Marston.” And she walked away a few
yards along the terrace. Gurney watched her for a few
moments, and thought that the opportunity was presenting
itself for him to tell Ware of the telephone message.
“ Could you come indoors a moment, Sir Hubert?” he
whispered to him.
“Yes, of course.”
They went into the library, and Gurney, like many people
who have unpleasant news to tell, took some time to come to
the point. He did not know how to begin, and, taking up
an addressed letter from the writing-table, began to talk ir-
relevantly:
“ Er — Sir Hubert, would you lend me your signet ring?
These new envelopes are so miserably gummed that —”.
He broke off in his effort to make the envelope stick.
“There you are,” said Ware, from the sofa, as he handed
him the ring. Gurney took it and sealed the envelope.
“It's your letter to the German family in Hanover about
Eustace.”


54
THE WARE CASE
"Oh, yes,” replied Ware. “I want that to catch to-night's
mail.”
“You and Lady Ware are awfully good to him.”
“Well, damn it, Marston, he's my wife's brother,” said
Ware amusedly. “And a word in the boy's favour when he's
going to a family there doesn't take much out of you, does
it?”
Gurney returned the ring to him.
“It's an awful pity he never went to a public school or the
'Varsity," he continued. “And it's worse than a pity that
he's coming into all this money without any qualifications for
managing it.”
“His is not an exceptional case, my dear Marston.”
Gurney considered all this an admirable introduction to the
bad news he had to tell. And he became almost dogmatic in
his tone.
“Still," he went on, "it's a bit rough that a good sort like
Lady Ware shouldn't have it instead of her being dependent
on Eustace's death. Rotten, I call it !”.
Ware looked round at Gurney with an expression which, to
put it mildly, was one of surprise. He even let his cigar go
out.
“I say, Marston,” he said, “I never credited you before
with a mercenary mind. “ Aeroplane's' unhinging you, I
think."
“I'm awfully sorry, Sir Hubert, but I can't help it. It's a
blasted shame, that will! And it's the present circumstances
that make the whole injustice of the thing so damned plain.”
“Well, old chap, you may be emphatic, but you are sympa-
thetic; and that's something."
The young fellow paused for a moment and looked with
admiration at Ware, who lighted a cigarette with the calmness
of a big financier who has to face a crisis, and offered his
case to him with that charming smile of his which captivated
everybody.
“No, thanks very much, Sir Hubert,” he said, then hesi-
tating before blurting out his news. “Er — Sir Hubert, In-
gleworths have rung up to say you must settle their account
by Thursday or action will be taken."


THE WARE CASE
55
Gurney looked away, and kicked the carpet uneasily. Ware
exhibited no surprise. There was silence for some seconds.
Nothing could be heard but the droning of a bee which had
flown into the room quite easily, and was now experiencing
difficulty in finding the window.
“Oh, have they ? ” remarked Ware at length, with a shrug
of his shoulders. “Well, one more or less — what does it
matter?”
“By Jove! You're splendid the way you take it ! ”
“My dear fella, what other way is there? Once in the
tumbrel, you've got to face the music, eh?”
“But I'm awfully sorry," said Gurney warmly, as he
grasped the other's hand. “I wish to God I had money, that's
all."
“H'm! I wish you had, old chap," answered Ware with a
laugh.
Rate interrupted them. He brought a visiting card to
Ware.
“There's a man in the hall, Sir Hubert, and I can't get
rid of him. I told 'im you was out, Sir Hubert, but he said
he'd seen you from the drive, and knew you'd see him, Sir
Hubert."
Ware looked at the card, while Gurney gave Ware's letter
to Rate with instructions to post it at once.
“ Tommy Bold !” exclaimed Ware. “Why, of course I'll
see him. Show him in at once."
“It's a very seedy bit, Sir Hubert.” And Rate wore quite
an agonized look.
“All the more reason for me to see him. Go on. Hurry,
Rate, hurry!”
Rate obeyed his order and disappeared.
“ Tommy Bold !” repeated Ware with amused astonish-
ment as he fingered the card. “Well, I'm —”
“Who is he?" inquired Gurney.
“ There's only one Tommy Bold. Used to be a devilish
prosperous bookie. Great Scot! He's had his fair whack
out of me in his time. Ho! ho!”
“ Mister Bold,” was Rate's sepulchral announcement from
the door. And following him, there appeared the wreck of


THE WARE CASE
57
straight on one occasion. I know that. But, my God, I've
paid for it, sir! And - and I don't believe you'd kick me out
of the house."
The wretched man shook from head to foot. He had not
the strength to control himself, and he presented a spectacle
which it is hard to match - a man of years crying like a
child.
Ware helped him into a chair, and after a time he was
able to speak.
“ Try to remember what I was like, sir, at Newmarket,
Epsom, Doncaster — Doncaster! That's where I ought to be
to-day, sir. But what's a man to do when he's desperate?”
he asked violently.
Ware in his own grievous plight felt the force of the re-
mark.
“He's got to do something. That's very certain. He's
driven to it, I say. I've been in gaol once, and that finished
me. There's no chance for me, sir. I can't get up out of it.
I can't. I'm done!”
Ware without a sixpence in the world looked hard at his
fellow-sufferer.
“How can I help you, Tommy ?” he asked gently.
“Any way you like, sir. Only a trifle. I don't ask for
any more. I want a meal to stop — to stop the pain. I
haven't the pluck to end it. I wish to God I had! Why
doesn't He give us the pluck to end it? Why doesn't He?
That's what I should like to know !”.
Upon these last words he rose to his feet with his clenched
fist uplifted and his eyes aflame.
Ware thought for a moment, and took his cheque-book
from a drawer in the writing-table. Then, remembering that
a cheque ran the risk of being dishonoured, and that in that
event Tommy Bold would hardly gain by the transaction, he
put away the cheque-book again. He never had felt so
powerless. How could he help this man to any appreciable
extent? He considered that the gift of half a sovereign in a
case like this would be childish. Besides, he reflected, it is
the little bit extra which gives pleasure in life — the surprise.
With a sudden thought he opened his pocket-book, and an


58
THE WARE CASE
expression of real pleasure crossed his face as he extracted a
five-pound note. It was the only note in the book, and if it
had been larger he would not have hesitated.
"Here you are, Tommy,” he said, as he handed him the
money and turned away. “Good luck to you!”
“ You give me that, sir! You give me that! Thank you,
sir, thank you,” gasped out the other. “I may have changed,
but, my God! you haven't. I shall never forget this —
never."
The note crackled consolingly in the man's trembling fin-
gers, and he stood blinking at it in amazement.
His benefactor rang the bell, and Rate reappeared.
“Rate, give my friend a good luncheon, with a pint of that
champagne I had last night,” said Ware, who then turned
cheerfully to the bookmaker. “Go with him, Tommy. He'll
fix you up. Afterwards you can take a stroll in the grounds
before going back to town. Good-bye.”
The bent figure shuffled across to Ware, and clung silently
to his outstretched hand. He looked round furtively, and,
observing Rate standing in the doorway, lowered his voice to
a whisper as with a great effort he raised his eyes to Ware's
handsome face.
“You know what I'd like to say, don't you, sir?” he
said, half choking. “But — but I can't get it out.”
“Oh, never mind that, Tommy," answered Ware brightly.
“I shall be able to do it, though, behind your back, sir. I
shall tell some of those damned Socialists how good the rich
are to the poor. I'll have a tub of my own in Hyde Park,
and paint it Royal blue.”
Ware laughed and shook the wasted hand finally.
Two ruined men looked into each other's eyes.
In another instant this one member of the crowd of wasters
was leaving the room with a much more sprightly step than
when he entered it. But he stopped suddenly by the door
and turned round briskly.
“Got anything on ‘Aeroplane' to-day, Sir Hubert?” he
inquired slyly.
“No. Do you think he's likely to win, Tommy?”
The old man apparently thought that words would not


THE WARE CASE
59
sufficiently convey his convictions. He merely screwed up
his keen-featured face, and shut one eye for a considerable
length of time. Then he was gone.
“Sir Hubert, you're a brick, if ever there was one,” ex-
claimed Gurney enthusiastically from the window.
“Hallo, Marston,” answered Ware with a start. “I for-
got you were there.” He reclined upon the Adams sofa, and
Gurney came to his side.
“I want you to do me a favour, Sir Hubert.”
“ Anything in the world, Marston. Fire away, old chap."
: “ You'll have to go through an awful time. And, of course,
you can't keep me as your secretary. I want to know if
you'll let me stick on as a friend to do anything I can for
you."
There was a pause while Ware looked up at him gratefully.
“ Thanks, old boy. Done with you,” he said.
“But I think things in some way or other will turn,” added
Gurney hopefully. “They can say what they like, but I
don't believe an action like yours just now can go unre-
warded.”
“Ho! ho!” laughed Ware bitterly. “ Cast your bread
upon the waters — Ha! ha! I don't think.”


CHAPTER VI
AFTER this use of the jargon of the day, of which he
11 was a master, Ware, now left alone by Gurney, con-
tinued to recline leisurely upon the sofa in a cloud of
cigarette smoke. He was in the act of examining the ceiling,
where, whether in a difficulty at Bridge or in a difficulty in
life, one often for some inscrutable reason expects to find a
solution. This particular ceiling certainly failed to give him
the slightest assistance. And search for it as he mght he
found himself repeating, ad nauseam, a phrase of Tommy
Bold's: “What's a man to do when he's desperate?”
He was quite lost in thought, and paid no attention to his
wife, who came into the room from the terrace, and sat down
by the writing-table. She had grown weary of her vigil
outside, and her beautiful face, now free from the gaze of
strangers, was drawn and harassed-looking. She looked at
her husband, who remained as before, apparently oblivious to
her presence.
“Hubert," she said quietly. But he did not stir.
“Hubert!” She raised her voice the second time.
“ Ye-e-e-s?” was Ware's answer, in a tone of utter cal-
lousness.
“What do you propose doing?” asked Magdalen steadily.
“Ha! I really haven't the ghost of a notion."
His attitude maddened her. Was she not concerned ?
Could no thought whatsoever be extended to her ?
“Oh, the tone you —” And she broke off angrily.
“I really don't see how my tone can alter the situation.”
“ Which means — ruin.”
“ Blue ruin," he replied frivolously.
“ With no possible way out?'
“Oh, yes, one."
“What's that?"


THE WARE CASE
61
“ The Court. Ha! ha!”
“Oh, stop, stop!” she cried madly. “I may be an absolute
child — a fool in money matters —”
“I won't argue that point with you,” he replied icily.
“But I understand clearly enough the disgrace which that
will — Oh-h!”
She rose distractedly from her chair, and paced the room.
“What is it now?” asked Ware wearily.
Magdalen became rigid, and dug her nails into the palms of
her hands. She could not control her words. She did not
want to. She was beyond herself.
“ Thank God little Philip died !” she exclaimed wildly.
“Oh, that's you all over, Magdalen," was Ware's cold re-
sponse. “You will hark back so. Why introduce extraneous
matters?”
“Extraneous! Extraneous ! ”
“If only women would keep to the point!” he continued
calmly.
“What are you made of, I wonder? You're cruel.”
“Rage on! Rage on!” And Ware rose calmly from the
sofa to take down a volume from the bookcase close by.
“ If the world could see you now!” replied Magdalen.
“ It would be edified, no doubt,” was his quiet answer as he
lay upon the sofa, “ by the rare sight of a man reading in his
own domestic circle, my dear.”
He tapped the volume with a marital smile, and glanced at
her with a marital look.
“My French murder I was telling Egerton about. Now,
let me see; the turned-down page marks the spot I left off at."
Magdalen was being goaded too far. Clasping her hands
together she tried, but failed to form some words. They re-
mained but a stifled exclamation as she came close to his side.
“Ah, now, have a little consideration,” Ware went on in
the same frigid tone. “ I'm at a most absorbing passage.”
“Put that book down!” commanded Magdalen.
Ware sprang up and seized her almost savagely by the
wrist. The movement was so quick that she was unprepared
for it. He tightened his grip upon her, and twisted her skin
in the process. A horrible trick, acquired very probably at


62
THE WARE CASE
school, and, as the Divorce Court will tell us, perfected in
wedlock.
With a struggle Magdalen freed herself from him.
“You — you hurt me!” she cried out, rubbing her wrist.
“I— I'm sorry, Magdalen. I didn't mean to. I — for-
give me?"
She failed to answer him.
“But if I'm to be subjected to constant interruption,” he .
continued frigidly, “I'd better place the book back on the
shelf."
“I agree with you, Hubert."
Ware returned to the bookcase, and left the volume where
he had originally taken it from.
“H'm! That suit you?”
“I believe it affords you a fiendish delight to see me lose
my self-control," observed Magdalen sorrowfully as she sank
into a chair.
Ware seated himself on the sofa, and looked across at her.
“My dear Magda, it's an entertainment you've frequently
treated me to for the last — let me see -—"
“Three years," she answered quietly.
“That's a longish run.”
“But you know the cause, Hubert. And even you, I fancy,
might be sufficiently fair to think it's a strong enough
one. However, it's the last time you will see me rebel or
care."
Ware regarded her quietly with a suspicion of alarm on his
face.
“What do you mean?” he asked, and he came to her side.
“Oh, going to leave me, eh? Going to clear out when I'm
broke; what?”
Magdalen never looked more beautiful than at that moment.
She drew herself up in her chair. She knew that she had
strength on her side, and she spoke to him quietly as she
stared out in front of her:
“No. When you've squandered every particle of your
capital on - in a degrading way. You understand me, I
think, without forcing me to enumerate the cases, or to go
into details?”


THE WARE CASE
63
“I'm not very exceptional in that respect,” he answered
sullenly.
“When day in and day out you've insulted me," she con-
tinued steadily, “and brought disgrace upon your own name
and mine, I'm going to do probably the most incomprehensible
thing in the world, that only a fool of a woman would be
capable of. I'm going to stay with you. That is, if you care
for me to do so."
Ware made a sudden movement towards her, but she held
up her hand, which stopped him.
" Don't misunderstand me," she went on. “There's no
love in it, not an atom. You've killed that and every frag-
ment of respect utterly. But I shall remain under the same
roof with you to support you so far as my income will allow,
and for so long as we two last out — unless you would prefer
me to leave you and make you an allowance. Which do you
choose ?"
Ware grasped the situation, and, reviewing it entirely from
the point of view of his own pocket, without being to any
extent weighed down by the contemptible side of it all, turned
over in his mind the choice of two evils carefully.
The clock ticked, but no answer came. Magdalen repeated
her question: “ Which do you choose?”
“Well,” he began at length quite casually, “I should be
better off, it seems to me, if we were together on the restau-
rant principle that one portion generally does for two. They
do say that somewhere, don't they?”
“That is your choice then?” asked Magdalen, biting her
lip.
“Yes, I think so," replied Ware calmly. “But where shall
we live, I wonder ?”
“Oh, a flat somewhere, I suppose. Earl's Court or —".
“Earl's Court! Good God!” And he winced badly.
“ Yes, it will be a different story from the last four years.
But it has to be done on my income, and you know what that
is.”
“ Under a thousand a year. Ha! ha! Colossal! ”
The wife remained in her chair, and once again her chin
rested on her hands, and her elbows on her knees, while her


64
THE WARE CASE
couts Fame, though minute by coes! H
beautiful eyes stared down at the Oriental carpet in lost con-
templation of the wonderful twists and curves of its pattern.
She found herself counting them - ten to the right, ten to
the left. The delicate colouring, too. How exquisitely, she
thought, the reds blended into the yellows, the yellows into
the greens!
The husband took another cigarette, and tried to light a
match. Two or three were obdurate, and he flung them
aside. How rotten, he considered, these English matches had
become! The Swedish ones were much better! Finally he
succeeded in lighting one at the fireplace, and threw it impa-
tiently into the big open grate. It was not extinguished in
the process, and Ware watched it. Now that it was alight, of
course it wouldn't go out! He was amused. What a jolly
little flame, though! How long, he wondered, would it last?
The best part of a minute by the watch any day. Obstinate
little beggar! Ah, there it goes! How funnily the wax
shrivels up!
The two remained locked in their separate “brown
studies " for some time. Ware was the first to break the
silence as he walked up and down the room.
“It's a hell of a hole this, Magdalen. How the devil am I
going to get out?"
“Is there any way out?”
"I can't see it yet. But it may be there. Look here!
I've got my back against the wall, see? I've had it there
before, and fought through all right.”
“Because you've had the means to fall back upon," she
answered quietly. “Now they're exhausted.”
“Damn, you're right! I must go through the court, that's
all. But afterwards, how in the name of heaven are two
people like you and me going to exist on a thousand a year?”
“I shall have the control of that, and must do my best.”
“And dole me out pocket money! Ha! ha! Ten bob a
week, I suppose. Ha! There's humour in everything.”
He laughed at the notion mirthlessly and went to the win-
dow. He inserted his cigarette into a holder of rare amber,
and placing it between his teeth he bit it firmly, thrusting his
lower jaw forward, which made the cigarette look skywards.


THE WARE CASE
65
Such was his attitude for some minutes, with both hands
resting on his hips inside the waist of his spotless tennis flan-
nels. The prospect of a flat in Earl's Court and doled-out
pocket money was decidedly grey to such a man, and its in-
congruity appealed to him. Still, he was “in the tumbrel,”
as he put it, and the situation had to be faced. How, then,
could he improve it even to some small extent? What could
be engineered to mitigate the struggle? These were his
thoughts. He was desperate, there was no doubt about
that. He was as desperate, according to his own lights,
as Tommy Bold. “What's a man to do when he's desper-
ate?”
He broke the silence at last suddenly:
“Every shilling will be needed,” he said.
“ Certainly. Every one.”
“ The more we have, the merrier, eh? Magda, I've just
remembered something. Splendid !”.
He came to her side excitedly, and employed his most
charming manner which, as a rule, he bestowed only upon
other people.
“ Never say again, my dear, that I can't utilize money in
the right direction."
“I don't understand," was Magdalen's perplexed answer.
“ Listen, by Jove! Listen. We can increase our income
after all — not by very much, I know, but this is a case, you
agree, where every bob will make a difference.”
“ Well?”
Ware continued, his eyes blinking with pleasure:
“The other day you thought something of my suggestion
to sell your Great Western Debentures. Wait a bit, my dear,
wait a bit. And, damn it! you were wise enough to adopt
my suggestion. You did sell 'em. By heaven, you were a
genius to do so.”
"Perhaps I was. I hope I was,” she replied absently.
“At any rate my advice was prompted by the sole wish
that you should benefit,” he continued charmingly. “And I
was only anxious for you to sell at a good profit, which, by
Jove! you succeeded in doing, and to reinvest in the Ordinary
Stock, which will yield you a better dividend.”
So perhaps rate mye
he conti


66
THE WARE CASE
"All this sort of thing is so much gibberish to me, you
know," said Magdalen with a sad smile.
“But what a lot of doing it took to get you to agree to my
proposal!”
"I didn't feel I could trust you.”
He bowed to her with dignity and walked away.
“Oh, I'm sorry," was his only answer.
“Hubert, reckless as I know you to be in money matters,
and unscrupulous and cruel —”
“ Magdalen!”
“Yes, that's what the world would call you if it knew
you. Yet at this crisis, which you and I have to face together,
I can't believe you would be capable of doing anything detri-
mental to your own interests.”
The thrust went home, and he again bowed low to her.
“ Thank you, my dear Magdalen. Thank you - very
much."
“So I'll sign the -er - transfer,” she went on steadily,
“ or whatever it's called, whenever you like. Have you it
here at hand?”
“I have. I received it from my broker this morning."
Ware unlocked a drawer of his writing table and took out
a document, which he perused casually.
“Is there much risk in this new thing I'm going to put the
money into ? ” queried Magdalen, in her effort to put her
words into the correct phraseology.
“Safe as the Bank,” replied Ware, as he laid the paper
down.
He was standing upon one side of the table, and she faced
him from the other as she extended her hand.
“ Very well, let me sign it,” she said wearily.
" Hadn't you better read it through first?"
“Oh, you know perfectly well I shouldn't understand it.
Give it me."
“A witness to your signature will be necessary,” said Ware,
as he handed her the paper.
“ Then ring for Rate. Butlers are accustomed to that sort
of thing, aren't they?”


THE WARE CASE
67
Ware was about to touch the bell when Rate at that instant
came in from the hall to announce a visitor:
“ Mr. Adye.”
Magdalen, holding the document in her hand, felt her heart
stand still. Ware greeted Michael Adye warmly.
“Why, Adye, you're a stranger, if ever there was one.
How are you?”
“ Irritated by my car, which has behaved shabbily. Other-
wise well. Nothing but delays. Still, here I am ”; and he
took Magdalen's very little hand in his very big one and
steadied it absolutely.
Her face was radiant as she looked at him. The current of
her thought was changed completely. Adye had that strange
power about him to arrest attention. He created an at-
mosphere, and it was a charming one.
“ But where have you dropped from?” asked Ware.
“ The Temple.”
“What, in the Vacation!”
“ Yes, they won't let us fellows alone for long. No peace
for the moderately good, eh, Magdalen? Still, I can't grum-
ble. I've had a pleasant rest at Homburg."
Magdalen looked at his very thin figure incredulously.
“ Don't say you've been taking the waters?” she laughed
out.
“No-0-0," grunted out Adye. “But a pretty place, fine
weather and early hours were what I wanted. And we shall
be in the thick of a General Election before we know where
we are."
“Well, before you tell us your news," said Magdalen,
“you can do me a favour.”
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Adye boyishly.
“ You've just come at the right moment. You can do me
a trifling service if you will.”
“Only a trifling one?” he answered disappointedly.
“ Yes, would you witness my signature?”
Ware, with a quick look of fear, interrupted them.
“But, my dear,” he protested, “to bombard a man directly
he gets inside the room.”


68
• THE WARE CASE
"A lawyer, though, would be a much better witness than a
butler, wouldn't he ? ” she asked with a chuckle.
“Well, he'd be as good,” said Adye, laughing. “May I
ask the nature of the — document?”
“Why, of course," replied Magdalen.
“Hadn't I better explain ? " persisted Ware.
“No, no, no,” she argued charmingly. “I think I'm
capable of that much. This is how it is, Mike. I want to
take some money out of one thing and put it into another.”
Adye nodded with the sympathetic look of a man who is
an expert in these matters as a woman who knows nothing
about them.
“I see. A transfer.”
“ That's it. My Great Western Debenture Stock. Its
title is some long rigmarole like that.”
“But is it wise, Magdalen ? "
“I hope so."
“I mean," Adye continued, “if both of you will allow
me to say so, is it wise at this particular moment — in the
present circumstances ? It's really — er — on that account
I've run down to see you as an old friend. Well —”
He hesitated, and his powerful jaw became very set and
underhung as his eyes remained fixed upon the woman he
loved.
“ I've heard something in my chambers, and — I'm aw-
fully sorry.”
He almost hurt her hand in his.
“ Thank you, Mike," she whispered.
“Thanks, old chap,” said Ware.
“ Is it wise?” And Adye repeated the question gravely.
“I don't know," answered Magdalen. “It might be a
good thing to try to get a better yearly sum from the capi-
tal.”
“Yes, but how are you going to reinvest the proceeds ?”
Magdalen felt that she soon would be in difficulties in this
financial conversation.
“Well, Hubert thought — what did you think, Hubert?"
“I thought Great Western Ordinary,” replied Ware.


THE WARE CASE
69
“Nothing very speculative in that,” observed Adye
laughingly.
“Debenture Ordinary! Ordinary Debenture! I don't
know how you men can remember which is which," said
Magdalen in despair.
Adye looked at her, and spoke thoughtfully.
“Is this transfer your own wish?”
“ Well, Hubert advised me.”
“ Still I may have been wrong," interrupted Ware rapidly.
“Of course, of course," agreed Adye. “We can all of
us come a howler sometimes.”
Magdalen was growing weary of the subject. She ap-
proached the writing-table upon which she placed the trans-
fer:
“Well, here it is. So I'll sign it."
“But why be in such a hurry, Magdalen?” asked Ware,
completely disguising a deep anxiety which lay hidden be-
hind his words. “Later on, to-morrow, any time will do.
Let's chuck all this sort of thing to-day.”
"No," she replied. “I like to get things over and off
my mind," and she scribbled her signature hastily.
“There!”
Adye was close by, and duly saw her write her name.
Ware hesitated a moment while Magdalen placed the blot-
ting-paper over the transfer, and then made a distinct for-
ward movement with the object of taking it up. His wife,
however, gave the document to Adye.
“Now, it's your turn, isn't it?” she said to him with a
laugh.
“Quite right,” answered Adye. “But I once had oc-
casion to register an oath which I don't want you or your
husband to misunderstand. You won't, I'm sure. I never
nowadays witness a signature without just seeing what the
thing is all about. So I'll run my eye over it.”
“Wise man,” said Ware. “But any time will do for
that. I'll put the thing away now. Later on, Adye, after
we've had a jaw."
Adye had walked a yard or two from them with the


70
THE WARE CASE
o fhenly, as n it mom latter 1
paper in his hand; and Ware gently remonstrated with his
wife.
“This is a bit of an infliction on a pal, Magdalen, just as
he sets foot inside your house."
"Not in the least, Ware," was Adye's good-natured re-
ply. And he settled himself in a chair to peruse the docu-
ment.
Adye was a difficult man to move when once he had made
up his mind. The slightly underhung jaw was eloquent of
that. And anything connected with Magdalen's welfare in-
variably received his prompt attention, however trifling the
matter might be. So there was not another word to be
said.
Ware realized this, and his face, averted from the others,
wore a look of trouble and exasperation as he walked slowly
and thoughtfully to the other side of the room.
Adye frowned suddenly as he began to read the paper to
himself. He looked up from it momentarily, and glanced
round at the husband and wife, the latter having gone to
the window, and the former having taken up his favourite
position upon the Adams sofa in company with his twen-
tieth cigarette of that day. Adye was on the point of
speaking, of almost calling out, in fact, but he stopped him-
self. His eyes again fell upon the document, and, riveted
upon it, they opened wider as he read on, the whole expres-
sion of the powerful face changing from one of amazement
to that of sternness and resentment.
What might have been said or done at that moment, had
not an opportune or inopportune interruption occurred, it
would be difficult to say with certainty. But we need not
inquire into that. We have only to stick to facts, and avoid
hypotheses, which are tiresome things at the best.
The door from the hall had opened quickly, and Eustace
Ede, apparently recovered from his sulks, stood in the room.
He was still, as he always was, a vision of the most scrupu-
lous dressing. He had changed his white flannels to grey
ones; in place of his collar and tie he had substituted a care-
fully folded bath towel, and in his hand he carried a bath-
ing-suit.
Ede, apparents, he always wased his white hatituted a care-


THE WARE CASE
71
“ Hallo, Mr. Adye, you here!” he squeaked out. "How
d'ye do?”
Adye, being a polite member of polite society, instantly
placed the document in his coat pocket and rose at once to
greet no less a person than Magdalen's brother.


CHAPTER VII
66 L OW are you, my boy?” he asked, nearly wringing
IT his hand off.
“ Fairly well, thanks, except for the wasps and the heat.”
Adye indicated the towel round his neck.
“Going to bathe, eh? Best thing in the heat, Eustace.”
“Yes, it's about the only time I've ever felt inclined for
it. This lake's beastly, you know," his voice becoming
shriller; “it's so full of big pike, and I'm terrified of
'em.”
“They'll be much more terrified of you,” replied Adye
with a laugh, as he approached the chair he had been sitting
in.
“Er — Eustace," said Ware brightly, who until now had
not stirred from his thoughtful attitude upon the sofa.
“I've sent my letter about you to the Hanover family. I'm
sure they'll look after you all right.”
“Oh, thanks, Hubert," answered the boy. “I hope
you've told them, among other things, that I won't eat
prunes with meat."
Magdalen looked at Adye.
“You know Eustace is off to Hanover on Monday,” she
explained. “He's going to study in a family there for six
months."
“ Ah, till he comes of age. Good!” said Adye.
Eustace's pale, weak face turned towards the K.C.
“Shall I see you when I come back from my bathe, Mr.
Adye?”
"I hope so. Meanwhile I'll watch you from the window
here. A great header, eh? "
“No, but you can't,” replied Eustace with satisfaction.
“ Thank goodness this end of the lake I stay in, though it
is so close, has the advantage of being completely hidden by
72


74
THE WARE CASE
roared up the chimneys, and if the wind was in the east,
he never was allowed out under any conditions. Interfering
friends who ventured, however tactfully, to advise a con-
trary treatment were considered inimical at once; enlight-
ened consulting physicians of the twentieth century, who
advocated air, were credited with new-fangled notions, re-
ceived their fee promptly, and never were consulted again;
and this boy, in spite of his coddling, was actually alive,
and close upon his twenty-first birthday. But he would
have been a very different specimen had he been reared in
a healthy fashion and not like an exotic. It was a criminal
upbringing, and his parents deserved any punishment. As
it was, they were ordered oxygen upon their death-beds,
and from its administration received, it is said, such a shock
that their ends was considerably accelerated.
It was not that Eustace was unsound in limb or body, but
that he lacked stamina. He was a weakling, and would be
designated by his best friends as a “poor thing." Coddled
to a wicked degree physically, he was pampered and spoilt
morally. A governess followed by a private tutor at home
were all that he received in the way of educational advan-
tages. He never was whipped, never got hurt at a game,
never was “fagged,” never had a chance. And now that he
was reaching “man's estate " the tree was inclined just as
the twig had been bent. Magdalen had had many a pas-
sage of arms with her parents over his upbringing, but she
was invariably snubbed for her pains, and it is not surpris-
ing that there was little in common between the brother and
sister, so diametrically opposed to each other were they.
He was rather a pathetic figure as he sat upon the seat,
with his sleek, fair hair licked back from his forehead, his
pale face, and his always parted lips, ruminating over the
“nasty things” people said to him, and furiously flicking
away the cigarette-ash which had dared to soil his new
flannels. But he was a very ordinary type, and in six
months' time and onwards would doubtless be tolerated for
his money and his card-gift, which was his only accomplish-
ment.
Feeling distinctly cooler, and having finished Ware's ex-


THE WARE CASE
75
cellent cigarette, he caught sight of the far end of the lake
about half a mile off, the near part which he patronized be-
ing hidden from him, and supposed that, having said he
would bathe, he must go through with it. The walk to the
shed in the heat, the undressing when he got there, and the
creeping into the “horrid cold water,” were decidedly irk-
some to him. He would go and look at it first. That was
his decision. Accordingly he rose wearily from the garden-
seat, and walked slowly down through the park in the di-
rection of the bathing-shed. His pace was very different
from that of his sister who such a short while ago had
traversed in part the same ground. And how different were
the workings of their minds! To her the water was a mag-
net, and she needed the most powerful deterrent to thwart
her in her purpose. To him it was repellent, and if upon
his quest of a very doubtful pleasure he could have en-
countered some one to suggest another form of amusement,
he would have seconded the motion with considerably alac-
rity. But he met nobody on his way, and arrived at the
bathing-shed alone. However, there were signs of life
within. Marston Gurney's wet footprints were still visible
upon the boarded floor, and his lately worn bathing-suit was
hanging from a peg.
Eustace's face grazed it by accident as he tripped forward
over the leg of a chair, and the damp touch of it was dis-
tinctly unpleasant and chilling to him. It made him pause
a little longer before undressing, and he sat down upon the
top step to study the look of the water. There was not a
ripple upon it, and it shimmered brilliantly in the sun.
Everything about it was alluring to a keen bather, and had
Eustace Ede been a member of that fraternity he would
have been off with his clothes, on to the spring-board, and
into the deep water in the space of a very few seconds.
But he still hesitated, and finally, stretching down his hand
by the side of the steps, dipped the tips of his fingers to
test the temperature. Even he was relieved by the experi-
ment, and, re-entering the shed, unfolded his bathing-suit
and began very deliberately to undress.
That proceeding being purely of a conventional and in-


76
THE WARE CASE
elegant character, it would be superfluous to describe it.
It may safely be left to the imagination. And, moreover,
for the moment it may not be without interest to know
what was taking place in the library between those three
people — Sir Hubert Ware, Magdalen, and Michael Adye,
the last-mentioned of whom had plainly grasped the purport
of the document he was reading.
On Eustace's departure the eyes of the two men met, and
Ware, with his customary resource, suggested to his wife, if
she would not mind, the advisability of leaving him for a
few minutes alone with Adye, as he would like to consult
him about things generally.
“Of course," replied Magdalen.
She walked out of the door-window, and disappeared
from view to the east side of the terrace, leaving the two
men alone.
They stood motionless for some seconds. Adye then ex-
tracted the paper from his pocket, and with a grave and
thoughtful look upon his face crossed slowly to the other
side of the room. He had to speak, he knew; he adored
the woman whose signature he was asked to witness; and he
had to speak to the man who was her husband — and in
his own house. How should he begin? He hesitated for
some time. No cross-examination in his career had ever
demanded such delicate handling. No case in his life had
been so difficult to conduct. He sat down upon the sofa
mechanically, not looking to the right nor to the left. And
the man, who stood between him and the woman of his
life, followed his every movement searchingly.
At length Adye broke the painful silence.
“ Er — Ware --”
“Hallo!” answered the other affably as he approached
the writing-table.
“I-er - don't follow quite this — er — transfer," said
Adye quietly, as he held up the paper in his hand. “It's
-er - not what your wife imagines it to be.”
“Isn't it?" said Ware perplexedly.
"No. It's something entirely different"; and Adye, ris-
ing from the sofa, walked up to his side.


THE WARE CASE
“ Different? Er — how? I- I don't follow. I_"
Adye looked close into his face and scrutinized it.
“Nöthing could be plainer,” he said in a firmer tone.
“ And I must be candid. You're trying without your wife's
knowledge to obtain her signature to a deed which, if duly
executed, would transfer the whole of her capital in this
investment to your name, and give you the power to do
what you liked with it. The stock has not been sold, Ware,
and you know it.”
“ Adye,” answered Ware, in his turn raising his voice,
“you're bringing rather a serious charge.” Adye did not
remove his eyes from his. “It's calculated to make me for-
get you're a guest in my house - a fact which apparently
you have lost sight of.”
“I had for the moment, I admit," answered Adye. “And
you must forgive me if the gravity of the case appears to
me more important, particularly when it concerns one of
my closest friends. You also are forgetting that your wife
asked me to witness her signature. I didn't offer to do so.
But I understand you dispute the conclusion I've come to."
“I do!”
“ And that your wife is wholly cognizant of the purport
of this — document?”
“ Yes!”
“ Then in that case it will be for me to tell her that I
must decline to witness her signature to a deed which is
so entirely different from what she understood. I'll go to
her now.”
“No, no!” cried Ware, clutching him by the arm.
“Don't — don't mention it to my wife.”
“But it's my duty."
“Wait, for God's sake!” gasped Ware. “My — wife's
been — awfully good to me.”
“I know she has."
“And this might — " Ware broke off nervously.
“ Was I right then?” continued Adye, close to him.
“ You were deceiving her?”
“ Yes," was the other's answer, as he hung his head and
sank into a chair.


78
THE WARE CASE
“Oh-h!” exclaimed Adye with all the scorn at his com-
mand.
“I— I've been almost driven mad,” Ware protested
wildly. “I didn't — I didn't realize what I was doing. I
don't know where to turn!”
“Except away from your wife.”
It was a terse reply, but Adye clothed it in a tone of the
most withering contempt, which had its effect upon Ware.
It silenced him completely for some time. Never in all his
life had he felt so insignificant, and he smarted under the
realization that Adye knew him. It was the first time that
he had been found out, and it was not a pleasant sensation.
How far, too, it might lead was exercising his mind. Would
Adye take advantage of his knowledge and expose him?
And if he did, how was he to act? Could he face the
charge boldly, and deny its truth? Could he bring an ac-
tion for slander against Adye, and perhaps ruin him when
he was practically at the height of his career? There would
be some satisfaction in that if he could but be sure of suc-
cess. But could he be sure of it? Would a shrewd man
like Adye be likely to have blundered so egregiously?
'Would he not, on the other hand, be so experienced as to
perceive instantly the nature of that document? He found
no answer to that question. What, then, was he to do?
He had admitted his attempted fraud. Adye was in pos-
session of the secret. He must keep it, then. At all costs
he must keep it! How could he make him keep it ?
If ever a man was desperate, Sir Hubert Ware was
that man as these various reflections surged through his
mind.
Adye watched him during those silent moments, and al-
though he had never liked him, for more reasons than one,
he was now face to face with the awful knowledge that not
only was the woman he loved the wife of another man, but
that she was chained for life to a blackguard and a cheat.
It was a staggering blow to him. He fairly reeled under
it. It was incredible. It was unthinkable. It was cruel.
Those were his meditations rushing higgledy-piggledy
through his brain, and the corners of his strong mouth


THE WARE CASE
79
turned up expressively as one more thought seized hold
of him.
"For better — for worse! Great heaven! Couldn't the
Divorce Commission have recommended reform in a case
like this?”
Ware, at lergth turning his eyes towards the strong, un-
shakeable face, sprang up suddenly and hastened to Adye's
side.
“What are you going to do, Adye?” he whispered fear-
fully.“ What are you going to do?”
"I don't know," was the slow reply.
“You'll be merciful, though, won't you?" And he laid
an appealing hand upon the other's shoulder. “Be merci-
ful! You've known me off and on for a longish time, and
you'd never have thought this of me, would you? At least
you can tell me that!”.
“ That is perfectly true," answered Adye steadily.
“ Well, then, something must have gone wrong with me!
Something must have snapped, and made me do what I
didn't realize! I realize it now. It was an awful thing,
and I could shoot myself for it. Yes, I could, Adye. For-
get it — forget it, man, for God's sake! After the thing
was signed I would have burnt it-on my oath I would.
Why, I was cheating my own wife!”
“ Yes!” said Adye between his teeth, as he hissed out
the word.
“I see it now. I didn't see it then. I didn't see any-
thing. Be merciful, Adye. I'm a ruined man! I'm done!
Don't tell my wife! I implore you not to tell her. It - it
would pain her terribly, and —”.
“Yes, I think it would pain her," agreed Adye ironically.
“ Then you won't, will you? Don't tell her! Don't tell
her! Let us tear the đảmned thing up and forget it ever
existed. Don't tell her!”
Such was the almost incoherent outburst from the charm-
ing, handsome, well-groomed, self-possessed, débonair man
whom we had seen only a few minutes ago. He stood
gripping the K.C.'s shoulders with his trembling hands,
stripped of all those qualities, and Adye could not recognize


80
THE WARE CASE
him. His graceful figure seemed shrivelled, his faultless
clothes ill-fitting, his eyes contracted, and his face wizened
as the sweat poured down it. He was a creature at bay.
Adye took hold of his hands, and put them away from
him firmly.
“No, I won't tell her,” he said coldly.
“ Nor anyone — nor anyone in the world?
“ It would pain her equally if I did that.”
“ Thanks — thanks," whispered Ware weakly.
With that he walked away to a table near the sofa, and
mixed himself a fairly strong whisky and soda, which he
drank off greedily, while Adye sat thoughtfully in an arm-
chair not heeding him. It revived him considerably, and,
mopping his face and neck with his handkerchief, he grad-
ually reassumed his normal appearance.
“Whisky and soda, Adye?'
“No, thanks."
“ Sure?”
“Quite."
Ware looked at him with relief, and with just a sus-
picion of victory in his eye, while he readily admitted to
himself that Adye had acted generously. The inevitable
cigarette helped further to restore his equilibrium.
“ If the result comes through, I'll let you know, Marston.”
The words were called out from the terrace by Magdalen
to Gurney, who was helping Celia in her game of croquet
with Egerton.
“My wife's coming back," said Ware quickly. “What
shall you say?"
“You must leave that to my discretion,” replied Adye
coldly as he stood up. “Meanwhile,” he continued, plac-
ing the miserable document in his coat pocket, and tapping
it, “I think my pocket is the safest place for this. I'll burn
it when I get home. Of course the dividends will continue
to be credited in your wife's pass-book, as the stock is not
sold; but the words ‘Great Western' will probably be suf-
ficient for an unsuspecting mind like your wife's.".
There was a tone of sadness in these last seven words,
which did not escape Ware.


THE WARE CASE
" She mustn't see we've had an argument even," he said
quickly. “Take a cigarette.”
Adye ignored the invitation, and took out his own case.
“I have one here," he answered frigidly, and he lit it
calmly.
Magdalen returned from the terrace, and regarded casu-
ally the two men, who both appeared to have had a thor-
oughly amicable five minutes' talk.
“Well, can I come back ? ” she asked.
“Yes, we've quite finished,” replied Ware brightly.
“Have you witnessed my signature, Mike?”
“Yes, it's all done,” was Adye's bold answer.
Ware could not repress a secret smile. He thought Adye
magnificent; and he turned to his wife naturally in his de
termination to keep up Adye's deception.
“How lucky it was he came, eh?”
“ Mike always brings good luck," agreed Magdalen as she
sat upon the settee. “Er — Hubert, aren't you leaving Sir
Henry rather a long time?”
“ By Jove!” exclaimed Ware, “I'd forgotten all about him.”
He hurried to the window, and looked out towards the
croquet lawn.
“But he's fairly occupied with Celia and Marston at cro-
quet. Interminable game, don't you think so, Adye? He's
eyeing a hoop as if it was a chess-problem.”
Ware had recovered his self-possession marvellously. As
he strolled out to the terrace, inhaling his cigarette, no on-
looker would have detected a care. Adye's promise was re-
sponsible for that. One load was lifted from his mind, but
another remained. How could ruin and Earl's Court be
avoided? How?
Magdalen had now crossed to an arm-chair, and taken up
the silk waistcoat she was at work upon. Adye's eyes
watched her intently. She looked round at the window, and
saw that her husband had disappeared. Adye, too, was
aware of it. He brought up his chair near Magdalen's.
The two were alone together. They sat silently for some
time. She plied her needle determinedly. He watched it
closely as it worked in and out of the canvas.
sit it Whis self-Pohaling his's promis mind, bute


CHAPTER VIII
M AGDALEN was the first to speak, when, on looking
IV up from the waistcoat, she found Adye's eyes fixed
upon her.
“Isn't he amazing ?” she said.
Adye was so far away in his thoughts that for the mo-
ment he did not follow the reference. He regarded her
inquiringly.
“Hubert, I mean,” she explained. “Don't you think he's
extraordinary?”
" I've come across many in my work, Magdalen, who bear
a strong family likeness to him.”
“But to look at him you'd never realize the state of his
affairs, would you?”
"Nor a good many other things," Adye answered quietly,
as he thought of the painful interview he had just endured.
“Magdalen," he continued diffidently, after a pause, “ I'm
awfully grieved at what I've heard. That's why I've come
down— to see if I can help in any way at all.”
“Thanks, Mike. That's just like you, but there's noth-
ing that anyone can do — nothing."
“You would command me, though, wouldn't you, if there
was any mortal thing I could do for you?”
“Of course I would, Mike. You know that.”
“ You wouldn't hesitate one second?”
There was an earnest ring in the question, and an inde-
scribable force behind it which made the beautiful woman
cease working. The various coloured silks seemed to dance
before her, and she dropped a skein upon the floor. He
picked it up and laid it on her knee. No framed answer
came to her lips, but she turned her head towards him, and
the wonderful grey-blue eyes looked through him. They
penetrated into the very depths of his heart. They under-
82


THE WARE CASE
83
stood completely. But whether they did or did not was not
the problem which just then was gripping Adye's mind.
He had but the one devouring thought which had haunted
him for years, and at this moment it overwhelmed him more
utterly than ever. He adored her with all the strength of
his being. She was to him the embodiment of all that was
fine and beautiful, deserving every joy that the world could
give her, all the love that it contained, all the understanding
and sympathy that existed. By heaven! she was only twen-
ty-five; it was her right! And she was the wife of a man
who had tried to cheat her!
As he looked at her now he could have flung away all
self-restraint, all convention, all wisdom, all honour. He
could have cried aloud that the world did not count, that
she and he could defy it together, that nothing on the earth
mattered. He could have lifted her in his arms and crushed
the very misery out of her. He could have pulverized it
with his love. But no, she was to him too noble a thing for
that. He must fight on, and for her sake try to play the
silent man to the end. He must endure.
He had risen rapidly from his chair, and walked away
from her. There was safety in distance.
“At any rate, I may obtain a promise from you,” he said
quietly.
“A promise? What?”
“ Never to undertake any financial transaction before con-
sulting me, no matter what it may be. That's to say if you
value my opinion, and I'm not too – inquisitive.”
“Of course I promise. You know how I value your
opinion, Mike, and for you to talk of being inquisitive is
perfectly horrid.”
“ That's quite understood then?”
“ I've given you my promise,” answered Magdalen with a
smile. “But why do you insist upon it so ?”
“Oh, nothing," he replied casually. “I don't want you
to make a mistake, that's all. It's precious easy to do so,
you know, over investments. Over this one just now I al-
most feel a little hurt at your not consulting me beforehand.
I do indeed."


84
THE WARE CASE
“But you've been such a stranger of late, Mike. And
then you were abroad and —”
“Well, at any rate, no harm's done." And he added gal-
lantly: “And I'm glad you had no other witness than —
yours — affectionately.”
He returned to her side and resumed his seat.
“ You're the same dear old rock as ever,” she said, slowly
shaking her head. “How good you are!”.
“Good!” he exclaimed. “Why, for you I'd "
He looked away from her, and she understood. She, too,
felt how she loved this man. But, with that inscrutable
power of concealment possessed by women, she showed noth-
ing. There was no occasion for her to walk to the other
side of the room. She retained her seat composedly, so it
seemed, while all the time, in fact, she was picturing to her-
self the happiness that might have been hers and the love
that she could have given.
“I have a terrible piece of news for you, Mike," she said
with an effort. “Hubert's ruined.”
Adye nodded silently, and she continued with a shudder :
“I suppose before many days are over his affairs will be
public property ?”
“ I'm afraid so,” he said very gently. “I wanted to break
it to you that some papers came to my chambers this morn-
ing bearing on them.”
“Mike," she inquired anxiously, “nothing - dishonour-
able ? Horrible, loathsome, perhaps, but nothing fraudu-
lent? Ah, give me that grain of comfort if you can!”
“No, no, no,” he replied truthfully and reassuringly;
“nothing of that kind, on my honour."
" Ah-h!” she cried with relief. “It was wrong of me to
hint at such a thing. Forget it, will you? Hubert's reck-
less and all that, I know, but I can't believe he would be
capable of anything - But sometimes I get frightened, and
- oh, forget I ever said such a thing, won't you?”
“Of course,” said Adye, with a face like a mask.
“I must be fair to him, Mike."
“Yes, you must be fair," agreed Adye, in a level tone.


THE WARE CASE
85
And there he was, sitting by her side, watching the trag-
edy of her innocence.
“No,” he continued. “Those papers of mine just point
to — an inevitable bankruptcy of large dimensions. But any
brief in which your name appeared I should, of course, re-
turn."
“Oh, it's the ghastly publicity of it all — the disgrace!
And not a shadow of an excuse to be found! Only a hu-
miliating cause!”
“Yes,” said Adye strongly. “It's terrible for you, and
damnably cruel.”
She rose from her chair, and crossed the room restlessly.
A set expression came over her face, and she returned to
Adye's side.
"I don't know if you'll think I'm doing right,” she said,
“ but whatever my life may have been, and whatever it may
have in store for me, I want to be able to hold my head up.
I want to do my duty. We shall have to live somewhere
upon my income entirely, such as it is.”
He could have cried out in protest, but he set his lips, and
looked at her with all the self-repression that was in him.
“ So I have resolved," she continued,“ to stay with him in
order to support him.”
There was a great silence for a minute. The big clock
ticked loudly and solemnly. There was a warning note in
its sound. Adye stood up slowly with a look of torture
upon his face, and, with his hands linked tightly behind
his back and his head bent forward, walked away from her
towards the large, open grate. There was safety in dis-
tance again.
Her gaze followed him, and if, instead of staring at his
foot, which rested on the stone curb, he had turned round
then and seen the light in her eyes, in which the very heart
and soul and body of the woman were revealed, he would
have forbidden her that martyrdom, he would have denied
her right to endure it, he would have claimed her as his
own. But he did not stir, and muttered through his teeth
half-admiringly, half-bitterly:


86
THE WARE CASE
be strip only. I shoul
" Magdalen, the more you are tried the more noble you
become. You're — very strong."
“I want to be," she murmured.
He came to her side again hastily — the moth to the light.
“Can't I help you?” he cried, with a passionate ring in
his voice.
“No, no, Michael,” she answered fearfully. “I want to
be strong enough to come through this alone.”
“If only you would let me help you!” he continued vehe-
mently. "I should like to feel I was the one creature in all
the world who could help you — in any way you chose.
I have known you a long time now, Magdalen - five years,
isn't it? Not that that gives me any right to - Still I'd
give the world - !”.
He broke the remainder with a tremendous effort. Then,
with a stifled exclamation, he turned away from her, and
hastened to the window. There was safety in distance
again.
The two were suffering indescribably. Each had the same
thoughts as the other. Each was fighting to hold them
down. They lived in the world. At all costs they must not
utter them. Once spoken, they never could be withdrawn.
The distance they would lead would be incalculable. They
would seal a bond of dishonour. They lived in the world.
Something would be lost which, by the canons of society,
would be beyond recall. They lived in the world. They
would both be hurled down into that abyss which no provo-
cation, no excuse will palliate. The life of each would be
shattered, smashed. Nothing but a wreck would remain.
They would have jettisoned all. They lived in the world.
Each, too, was thinking of the other. Was he going
brazenly to blast her life, to drag her down roughly from
the high pedestal she occupied, to make her laughed at,
pointed at, mocked? Or could he descend to ask her to
lower herself to that fashionable and sordid level, which
meant church-going on Sundays and intrigue through the
week? Why, he loved her!
Was she, in her turn, the woman to blind herself to his
career and to his fine position? Was she going to speak


THE WARE CASE
87
one dangerous word to imperil them? Was she going to
deal that one blow to end them irrevocably? Could she live
on and endure the sight of the face in the glass, which had
been capable of that? Why, she loved him! Besides, all
the time there were beating into her brain those words:
The clock continued to tick the seconds loudly. It seemed
to speak.
“Stay - stay — stay,” it rapped out monotonously, and
Adye could have smashed its face. He remained silent at
the window, and turned the money in his pocket over and
over. Something had to be said, he felt, and he snatched at
a platitude.
“Pity one can't see the bathing from here,” he said jerk-
ily.
Magdalen adopted his tone readily.
“Yes,” she replied casually, “the trees just hide this end
of the lake, and it's only about a hundred yards. If we had
been able to stay on here it might have been worth while,
perhaps, to cut some of them down.”
This remark in itself was harmless enough, but it bore
upon the ruin of the house, and dragged Adye back tem-
pestuously to its tragedy. He rushed to her side.
“Oh, it maddens me,” he exclaimed, “when I look at you
and see you, the same girl I knew five years ago without a
care, now enduring a - I can't believe people like you
are sent here for that! The whole management of things
is grotesque and farcical! It makes me rebel!”
“It's no use rebelling, Mike,” she said lightly. “ It has
to be borne.”
“To be borne!” he echoed with contempt. “That's the
eternal cry. Why should it be borne by those who don't
contribute one stone to the burden? That's what I should
like to fathom. That's why I rebel. Why, I'm hearing the
same story more or less every day of my life. The bang of
the knocker at my chambers nine times out of ten is the
signal for it. It's everlastingly the case of a wholly inno-
cent creature bending under the load of some wrong, some
cruelty heaped upon her by some callous brute who is prob-
or that! The can't believe Is ago without a


88
THE WARE CASE
ably a most popular member of his club and spoken of there
as a poor chap who has a roughish time at home. Ah, Mag-
dalen, it's a miserable, monotonous tale. Common Form,'
as we lawyers say, in our day's work, listened to and handled
by us invariably in the same dull, heavy, machine fashion.
It's only when we find those we — care for, struggling to
support the weight, that we wake up and rebel!”
“Yes, Mike," she said, “but you see my position.”
"I do see your position," he cried out, “and it's torture
to look on."
“All the argument in the world can't change it, Michael.
There it is - a hard, big, solid fact which has got to be met
and endured. I must simply buckle to, like the rest. After
all, I shall only be following the advice I know you'd give to
any client in the same plight. . I must try to get an interest
out of it - an excitement.”
“Excitement !"
“Yes, of endeavouring to make both ends meet. It will
be quite a novel experience.”
“Which, apart from all this," insisted Adye strongly,
“ought to be unthinkable in your case?”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, if your father's will had been a just one."
“Oh!” exclaimed Magdalen dully.
“ Eustace to come into all that money! You to be de-
pendent upon his death! It's a scandal it wasn't different.
It could have been fairly divided, to say the least of it.”
“ Yes,” she said with a laugh, “but you see my father
was no advocate of woman's rights. And, poor dear, he
didn't bargain for my marriage turning out like this. He
pictured me being always a rich woman as Hubert's wife.”
“And being treated — decently,” exclaimed Adye. “To
stand here and listen to your talk of trying to make both
stand here and palling.", is that I'm sº can't do an, Mike,
“ The worst of it all is that I'm so helpless," she said
thoughtfully, “so dreadfully helpless. I can't do anything.
If I could type, write shorthand, do accounts — oh, Mike,
fancy my doing accounts ! — it would be something. Stop
a bit, though, I might run a hat shop. If I can do nothing


THE WARE CASE
89
else I can trim a hat, that I know I can do. But for a hat
shop you want capital, don't you?”.
The whole conversation was unbearable to Adye, who
looked away from her.
“Of course there is one thing I could do," she continued
very thoughtfully. “I could go upon the stage.”
“Oh-h!”
“Yes, I could. I'm not fool enough not to know that I
have a certain amount of looks. And on the English stage
looks are the principal thing, aren't they? Of course I
should never be able to act, I know that perfectly well.
But I might get into the front row in some musical comedy
or other. Don't think me frightfully vain, but I believe I
might be useful there.”
“ Magdalen!”
“And I can sing, as you know. It's not a big voice, of
course, but with the help of a pretty frock it might do.”
“For God's sake don't talk like this !”.
" I'm trying to be practical,” she protested brightly. “ I've
got to be, you see.”
"I can't bear it, that's all. I implore you to stop before
you make me say what afterwards I'd give the world to
undo!”
He seized both her hands in his, and looked into her eyes
as she rose from her chair.
“You shan't utter another word. My God! you shan't!”
he whispered madly.
It was the crucial moment of their interview; the climax
they had both struggled to avoid. But it stole in upon them
unawares. It crept out stealthily from the innocent prattle
of a beautiful young woman who was trying, according to
her light, to wear a brave face and to meet things boldly and
sensibly. She did not bargain for the effect her words
would produce upon a man like Adye, or she would have re-
mained dumb. They shook him utterly, and with a rush he
gripped her hands so violently as to cause her an exquisite
pain. The vibration of his suffering swept through her.
She was helpless! She was at his mercy! She was loved !
She was alive! But life, honour, blame, all could go! The


90
THE WARE CASE
world was dead, and what did it matter? One solitary word
from him then, as they stood there close together, her hands
held fast in his, and no secret would exist between them.
In another fraction of a second everything most cherished
would be beyond recall. A woman, beautiful in her youth,
beautiful in her nature, loved and honoured by all who knew
her, tottered defencelessly upon the edge of that yawning
chasm which lurks triumphantly in every region of the
world, defying all creeds and sermons, all lessons and ex-
perience, all civilization, only to make of her, if she fell,
an ordinary miserable, broken thing.
Why, then, did she not cry out? Why did she not rebel?
Why did she not shrink from the consequence? It only
required that, the grey-blooded would say, and Adye would
release her hands if that was all the trouble! What a de-
lightfully simple remedy, and how easily applied to love
and passion! The answer to the grey-bloods, if they are
worth answering, is that she was a human being and she
loved him.
Then they would examine Adye's conduct. It would
shock them considerably, poor things!
What was he about? This universally popular and re-
spected man, this brilliant member of the Bar, this eloquent
politician, this trusted representative of a great constituency,
this certain Attorney-General in the next Government at the
age of thirty-seven, this eventual occupant of the Woolsack
and “Keeper of the King's Conscience,” what are we to
think of him, crushing the hands of a married woman?
Who would have thought it after seeing him in his robes
in court only last summer addressing the jury upon the
moral decrepitude of a co-respondent? What did he mean
by it? Why couldn't he let her go? The answer to the
grey-bloods is the same — that he was a human being and
he loved her, a condition of affairs they never will be able
to understand so long as they are privileged to creep about
the world.
But at that supreme moment of their lives, when they
stood literally upon the brink of disaster, a sudden, ex-
traneous circumstance occurred, which caused Adye in-


THE WARE CASE
91
stantly to free her. It was a voice some few yards away
upon the terrace that broke in upon them mercifully. It
saved Adye from the utterance of the fatal word; it pre-
served Magdalen from the sealing of an irretrievable com-
pact. A beautiful creature emerged from the fray unsoiled.
She could still cling to her ideals, and resolve afresh never
to lose them. She was not meant to fall.
"Halloa, Adye, how are you?” said Egerton, shaking him
by the hand.
Adye then greeted Gurney, and the chatter on croquet
would doubtless have been continued had not the telephone
upon the table rung at that moment. Gurney hurriedly
looked at his watch.
“That's the race," he said rather breathlessly.
“Yes, now for your fate, Marston," joined in Ware.
“And mine,” said Egerton with a laugh.
“ And mine,” added Celia nervously.
“ The Leger, eh?” observed Adye to Magdalen. “I
meant to go to Doncaster last night.”
Magdalen nodded, and the telephone continued to ring.
Gurney stood by it, and swallowed with difficulty several
times.
“You answer it, Celia,” he said at length.
"Er — shall I?” she answered, shaking with nervousness,
to the amusement of all the older hands.
“Quick, or they'll cut us off," insisted Gurney.
She took up the receiver with a trembling hand and nearly
dropped it.
“Y-e-e-s? ” she said into the instrument. “Who-o-o is
it? – Turnford?”
“Yes, that's the chap," snapped out Gurney.
“ Ye-e-s," she continued in the same shaky condition.
“I'm Mrs. Gurney."
“Never mind who you are," exclaimed Gurney wildly.
She let the receiver fall with a cry, and covered her face
with her hands. There was a dead silence for a moment,
and Gurney's expression was almost terrible to look upon.
“« Aeroplane'- beaten?” he gasped.
Çelia became hysterical and could barely speak,
o ou_shall I?” sheall the older haisted Gurney:


92
THE WARE CASE
“N-n-n-o!” she cried. “It's — it's — it's — won!”
“ Won?” shrieked Gurney.
“ Yes - won, won, won!
Gurney with a loud “whoop!” flung up his hat to the
ceiling and burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Then, realizing that this exhibition was childish, he grad-
ually assumed the perfectly composed air of a man of the
world and a habitual frequenter of the race-course.
“Capital,” said Egerton; "you got thirty-three to one,
you told me?”
Gurney nodded with a smile, and lit a cigarette.
“Good!” exclaimed Ware.
“Well done, Marston! Hurrah!” said Magdalen, clap-
ping her hands.
Celia drew herself up proudly.
“ Yes, but I backed him too,” she protested, with a jerk
of her head.
“Heavily?” enquired Adye through his laughter.
“ Very,” she replied haughtily, “a fiver each way."
They were all congratulating the girl, and a merry chatter
of voices continued, when Rate entered the room hurriedly
from the hall, looking more pained than usual, and with an
expression of alarm on his face. No one noticed him. So
he came to Ware, who was standing a little distance from
the others, and spoke to him quietly.
“Can I speak to you a moment, Sir Hubert?” he asked
in a serious whisper.
“ Yes; what is it?" inquired Ware.
“In the hall, Sir Hubert, if you don't mind.”
Ware interrupted the others in their racing talk.
“ Just excuse me for a moment, will you?” he said.
And he passed out into the hall, followed by Rate, who
closed the door after him.
“Now, Marston, how much had you on? I quite forgot
that,” said Celia.
“ Well, I'll tell you,” replied Gurney. “I-er - I did
rather a bold thing, you know, but I felt pretty reckless. I
- er — have a bit of capital, and — well, I have a bit of
capital -"


THE WARE CASE
93
“ Yes, I know that,” said Celia. “Do go on.”
“I put three hundred on to win,” he said with a rush.
“ Three hundred!” exclaimed his wife, immediately
setting to work to make an elaborate calculation on her
fingers.
“Three hundred!” said the others.
Celia was nearly hysterical again from excitement.
“Then you've — you've won —?
“Yes, I've won just one ten thousand,” he answered.
“Splendid, Marston!” exclaimed Magdalen, enthusiastic-
ally. “ I'm so glad.”
Egerton and Adye strolled to the window, both of them
recapitulating “ Aeroplane’s” history, and Gurney came to
Magdalen's side.
“But I had an idea when I made this bet," he said to her
quietly. “ Celia will tell you what it was.”
Celia ran to Magdalen, while Gurney modestly walked
across to the fireplace,
“ Marston really made the bet for someone else,” she whis-
pered to Magdalen; “er - for me. And now we want to
know if — if it could be arranged for you to have it.”
The tears rushed to Magdalen's eyes, and she took the
girl in her arms. At length she said to them tenderly:
“ You dear things, both of you! I wouldn't hear of such a
thing."
The door leading to the hall burst open violently, and
there rushed into the library a man pale as death and barely
recognizable. There was a complete hush as everyone
turned to him. It was Ware. He stood in the centre of
the room, to the alarm of everybody, trembling from head to
foot, and clinging to the writing-table. The sweat poured
down his livid face, and he held out a shaking hand in front
of him in his frantic effort to frame some words.
Egerton rushed to his side to support him. Adye stood
stark still where he was, staring at him. What had hap-
pened? Was this man unable to face the ruin? Had he
tried to kill himself? The same question rushed to Mag-
dalen's mind. Her face became as livid as his.
“Hubert!” she cried, “what is it?”
che held out a sharine sweat poured
m in his frantia


94
THE WARE CASE
There was silence again, and Ware, raising his ashen face,
tried vainly to speak as he shivered like a man with ague.
" I'll get a doctor,” said Egerton emphatically.
“My car's here," agreed Adye, feeling convinced of the
correctness of his diagnosis; "the man can drive there at
once if they tell him where to go.”
“No, no,” gasped Ware, as with Egerton's support he sank
into a chair by the table.
“I—I - I'm all right. It isn't that. Magdalen!” he
called out vehemently.
“What's the matter?” she asked fearfully, as she rushed
to his side.
"I don't know what to say," he continued with gathering
strength. “Rate — Rate called me out just now to tell me,
and -"
“Yes ? "
“Eustace ! ”
He could barely pronounce the name, but it was heard by
them all.
“What — what?" cried Magdalen.
“The — the gardener, Durnwell —".
“Yes, yes?”
“He -- he went to the — bathing-shed — a few moments
ago!”
There was a general movement of alarm within the room.
"He — he — found Eustace's towel and — clothes there
- his flannels he was wearing here - in this room — just
now. But — but the — boy — is not there. He's —!”.
His wife stopped him with a stifled shriek as she realized
the truth. She reeled back into Celia's arms.
Magdalen was a wealthy woman.


CHAPTER IX
W ILBURY was plunged into a state of panic.
The first thing to be done was to remove Magda-
len as soon as possible to her room in the care of Celia, and
to telephone for the doctor. It was Ware's suggestion di-
rectly he could collect his thoughts.
“We must get the women out of the way,” he whispered
anxiously to Adye.
Adye agreed. And Celia, after a sign from him, assisted
Magdalen from the library, while Gurney rang up Dr. Sed-
dleton to come immediately. The shock to Magdalen, whose
nervous system had already been sufficiently overstrained,
was very great. She stood up with her little friend's arm
pressed close around her, and appeared to see nobody. She
swayed for a moment, and then staggered out into the hall,
her teeth chattering violently. There, a few yards beyond
the oak staircase, a large panelled door, leading eventually
by means of a long corridor to the servants' quarters, stood
ajar — a most unusual circumstance considering that it was
one of those doors fitted with the necessary appliance to
close it automatically. But this was an unusual occasion,
and it was, perhaps, not altogether unnatural in the circum-
stances that the eternal curiosity below stairs about the pass-
ing events above them should assume abnormal proportions.
That door, in fact, was being held open by a knot of excited
people composed of the Wilbury household, who did not
want to lose one word or action if they could possibly avoid
it. There was Rate with his footmen, the chef with his
kitchen-maids, the kitchen-maids with their scullery-maids,
the upper-housemaids with their under-housemaids, all of
whom had the fixed and morbid determination not to miss
anything. They were all packed close together, elbowing
and jostling each other with one eye upon the crack of the
door and the other upon Durnwell, one of the under-garden-
ers, who had made the terrible discovery. They were bom-
95


96
THE WARE CASE
barding him feverishly with questions. In their estimation
and in his own he was undoubtedly the hero of the hour,
and he gave his answers with considerable self-importance,
surrounding them with a mystery which was wholly unnec-
essary.
“Well, Durwell,” sneered the second housemaid, “you
doesn't seem able to tell us much.”
“Did yer see Mister Eustace in the water first ? ” asked
William, the footman.
“No, I did not,” replied Durnwell emphatically. “I never
sees 'im after 'e passes me in the garden on 'is way to the
shed. I was goin' in tother direction.”
“ Then 'ow do yer know 'e went into it at all?”.
“ Because I found 'is clothes afterwards, I did. That's
why. 'E wouldn't take 'is clothes orf to run about the
grounds naked, would 'e?”.
“ Where is the poor young gentleman now then?” queried
the head housemaid.
“Why, at the bottom, of course, and 'eld down fast.”
“Is it deep there?”
“ About ten foot a few yards out, and there be some tidy
weeds."
“There'll be a hinquest, won't there, Mr. Rate?” asked
one of the kitchen-maids excitedly.
“There'll be an inquest undoubtedly," replied Rate
pompously, omitting the h with much superiority, “the law
commands it."
“And you, Durnwell, ’ull ’ave to witness and tell all yer
know," joined in another kitchen-maid.
“I tells all I sees, I do," rejoined the gardener.
“'Ow did 'er ladyship take it, Mr. Rate?” inquired the
head housemaid.
“I am unable to answer that question, Miss Thompson,
was Rate's reply. “I was not present.”
“ Not much love lost between that brother and sister,"
continued Thompson. “That's why I asked.”
“Ssh! Hold your jaw, will you?” whispered Rate, who
at that moment caught sight of Magdalen and Celia as they
passed through the hall to the staircase.


THE WARE CASE
97
The excited household pressed forward eagerly to get a
glimpse of their mistress, but Rate held them back with a
strong arm, and secured the best view for himself through
the narrow chink, while the rest craned their necks forward
in breathless silence to catch any syllable that might be
uttered. But not a word was spoken, and the only sound
which reached them was the intermittent, slow, unsteady
step of a nerve-shattered woman as her feet passed haltingly
over those portions of the oak floor which were exposed be-
tween the handsome rugs. Celia led her to the wide stairs
gently and firmly, and as they mounted them, stopping here
and there upon the way, a shaft of blinding light through a
great window blazed in upon them from a ball of fire in
the sky. So overpowering was its strength that it held Mag-
dalen quite still for some seconds. She stood pale and mo-
tionless under its rays, with her heavy eyelids forcibly closed
and their long, thick, dark lashes lying upon her cheeks like
hedgerows, a picture of dazzling beauty. She loved the sun,
did this woman, and she often urged the sound common
sense of the Persians in their worship of it. But to-day, at
this hour, she was out of tune with it. To her mind it was
the giver of life, and when Death was abroad she could not
look at it. She passed into the shade again, and a few steps
more brought them to the corridor where her bedroom was.
She seemed anxious to reach it, and quickened her pace.
Door after door they passed, until they came to one where
she stopped suddenly with a cry. Celia was not slow to
realize the workings of her mind. It was her brother's
room, and only half an hour ago he was there!
Before Celia could stop her Magdalen had turned the
handle and entered it. Almost to her horror signs of life
were everywhere. The spotless flannels, which the boy had
worn for his hot game of tennis with Celia, were sprawling
anyhow upon the bed. She felt the waist of the trousers
without knowing why, and it was still quite damp to the
touch. His soiled collar and tie had been tossed upon the
dressing-table. The room reeked of cigarette smoke, a tray
upon the writing-table being full of ash, and close
by it there was lying upon the blotting-pad a sheet
into the ridor und qu


98
THE WARE CASE
of notepaper containing Eustace's handwriting. It was
an unfinished letter. Magdalen took it up eagerly, and
as she read it to herself she uttered a low moan,
and covered her face with her hands. Until that moment
she had been stunned by the news, and not a tear had fallen,
but now, to Celia's relief and her own, she cried bitterly,
and through her sobs handed her the unfinished letter to
read.
It ran as follows:
“ DEAR MAGDA,—I'm sorry for what I said just now. It
was my beastly temper. We always seem to be quarrelling,
you and I. But before I go off to Germany on Monday let
us patch things up. I write this because I'm such a rotter at
saying things. It's all been my fault, the whole thing. 1
wish I was different. I don't want all this money I'm to
come into in six months. And upon my soul I don't think it
was decent of the Gov'nor to cut you clean out of it. I
should like you to have some of it while I'm alive. You
deserve it, and would know what to do with it. So when
I come back from Hanover we'll get it fixed up somehow.
Oh, I wish I wasn't so useless. ..."
No wonder Magdalen was moved. It was the offer of the
olive branch. But it had come too late. It is a way it has.
“ I'm glad of that,” cried Magdalen bitterly. “Oh, I'm
glad of that!”
“There was good in the fellow after all,” was Celia's sad,
unspoken thought. But of course there was. It may be
taken as an axiom that whereas the world is not bored by
the existence of a single, consistent saint so it is not encum-
bered by a single, consistent sinner. It is not such a dull
hole as that. If it were, existence would be a heavy busi-
ness, and human beings of all ages would not be so deadly
anxious to remain in it. In Eustace Ede's case it all comes
back to this — given a chance, the good in him might have
preponderated. And the discovery of this unfinished letter
completely changed Magdalen's thoughts. Without it the
shock of his untimely death was, of course, very great, and


THE WARE CASE
99
the circumstances and consequences surrounding it increased
its poignancy. But after her recovery from it she never
would have played the hypocrite. She was far too genuine
and strong a character for that. The opinion of Society
could have “ gone hang.” A decent mourning for an ortho-
dox period she never would have indulged in, because she
would not have felt it. She and her brother had never been
good friends, and the fact of his death would not have
changed her feelings in that respect a single iota. But this
one spontaneous action on the boy's part, belated though it
was, revolutionized her point of view. It revealed to her
something in him that she had not dreamed of. It made her
grieve for all the past discord. It made her feel that after
all she was something to him. It made her resent the
wickedness of his bringing-up. It made her regret most
deeply that he had not taken her into his confidence earlier.
It made her think that she must have misunderstood him.
It made her wonder how much she had been to blame, and
whether, if she had been different, he would have been dif-
ferent. It let loose the flood-gates of affection. Further-
more, the manner of the boy's death was horrible to her. It
stood out before her. The loneliness of it! The struggle
for life which there must have been! The powerless arms
clutching at nothing! The cries for help unheeded, unheard !
The torture of mind! The agony of despair! The stab of
pain at the end! And then engulfed! Drowned! Alone!
“ Why was nobody with him? What was every one do-
ing?” she cried violently, as the power over words returned
to her. “You were on the croquet lawn at the time, weren't
you?”
“Yes,” replied Celia with a shudder.
“And you heard no cry?”.
. “Not a sound, dear. We were laughing and talking over
the game.”
“And I was in the library with Michael,” cried Magdalen.
And she pulled herself up suddenly with a shiver. She
knew perfectly well that during those minutes passed with
him in utter selfishness, as she insisted to herself, she had
been deaf to everything in the world but to the man she


100
THE WARE CASE
loved. And she was blaming herself now unutterably,
though quite unreasonably.
The unfinished letter was shaking in her hand. In a flash
she held it out again before her, and with wild, staring eyes
read it through a second time, her trembling lips framing
the words to herself.
“ Celia!” she gasped. “Why did he write this letter ? ”
“What do you mean?” inquired the girl.
“ Am I the cause of it — the cause of his death? I went
there to-day to kill myself, and failed. Did — Eustace do
the same — and succeed?”
“Why think of such a thing?”
. “It's in my mind, and I can't get it out," exclaimed Mag-
dalen. “ Doesn't this letter suggest it? It does to me, I tell
you. Look at what he says. Why should he write it at
all?”
Celia took the letter in her hand, and tried her utmost to
disabuse Magdalen's mind of this notion.
“But don't you see, Magdalen, his reason for writing it?
He gives it, dear. He says: 'I write this because I'm such
a rotter at saying things.'”
“Yes," cried Magdalen; “but the rest of it. He sud-
denly casts all the blame upon himself. I wish I was dif-
ferent,' he says. And then the end of it: 'Oh, I wish I
wasn't so useless.' Celia, he made up his mind to do this.
I'm — I'm convinced of it!"
The tears were streaming down her face, and Celia argued
with her strongly.
“ You're wrong, Magdalen, indeed you are.”
“I would give the world to think I was. The thought
that I have been responsible for this is unendurable to me."
Celia changed her tactics completely. She went up to her,
and took hold of both her hands firmly. She almost shook
them, and a tone of command came into her voice.
“You shan't have that thought,” she said. “You've got
to drive it out of your mind once and for all — and now.
This was no deliberate act of Eustace, and if you never
speak to me again, I'll tell you why.”
Magdalen looked into her eyes inquiringly. She was able


THE WARE CASE
101
to realize the earnestness of the girl. She wondered what
she was going to hear. There was a moment's pause.
“Tell me, then. I would give the world to be convinced,"
she whispered.
Celia regarded her steadily and said quietly and sadly:
“ Poor Eustace would never have had the pluck."
Magdalen was silent, and it was evident that these sensible
words impressed her.
"Besides, look at the rest of the letter, dear,” continued
Celia appealingly, as she pointed to the writing. “This is
conclusive surely. He speaks of his journey to Hanover,
don't you see? and making things right before he starts on
Monday, and of arranging matters with you on his return.
If Eustace had meant to do this thing he never would have
written like that. There would be no sense in it. Can't you
see that I'm right? Ah, do say that you do, Magda ? ”.
“Yes, I suppose you are,” she answered weakly.
“But of course I am. Now come to your room, there's a
dear thing."
The girl put her arms round her neck and kissed her
lovingly.
“Give me back his letter, will you?” whispered Magdalen
in a trembling voice. Celia placed the note in her hand, and
as Magdalen took it, it brought into her torrent of thoughts
the only gleam of comfort she could find — that her inher-
itance was the wish of her brother. She held the message
caressingly in her fingers. Then, conscious of the compel-
ling pressure of her friend's arm around her, she moved
slowly to the door, took one last, hasty look at the hushed
room, and after some dozen faltering steps reached her
own.
Richardson, her maid, having closed the green shutters to
ward off the afternoon sun, was there anxiously awaiting
her arrival.
She was a woman of middle age, and had been in Magda-
len's service since her marriage, four years ago. While
typical of her class, she was an excellent servant, exhibiting
her grief over the tribulation of her mistress with charac-
teristic indiscrimination.


102
THE WARE CASE
When the little boy, Philip, died, to whom she was
passionately devoted, her sorrow was uncontrollable, and now
the tragic end of Eustace, whom she cordially detested, af-
fected her in equal proportions. She was bathed in tears in
the doorway.
But Magdalen did not want anyone near her except her
friend. The thought of being stared at was intolerable to
her, and Richardson, to her infinite disappointment, was dis-
missed tactfully by Celia. For fully ten minutes, however,
she stood uncommonly near the keyhole, but the key not
being turned horizontally in the lock, no view of the room
was obtainable, and since Magdalen was lying in silent medi-
tation upon the sofa, and Celia also was not speaking, she
was completely balked of any satisfaction.
Her only remaining hope, therefore, as she retired de-
jectedly, was that “that interfering Mrs. Gurney” would be
asked to ring for her. Meanwhile, in a state of snuffling
indecision as to whether she should visit her own apartment
or the servants' hall, she finally resolved upon the latter lo-
cality, where she found Rate steadying himself with a glass
of port and a biscuit.
"Join me in a glass, Miss Richardson?” he asked pain-
fully.
“ Thank you, Mr. Rate. I should like a drop of some-
thin'. I've got such a vacancy inside me.".
“ Vacuum, Miss Richardson," was the butler's doleful cor-
rection, as he hospitably poured out his master's wine.
tation unable, and since Mabe lock, no view of key not


CHAPTER X
D IRECTLY the library closed upon Magdalen and Celia
Ware wiped his forehead in relief. Not a word was
spoken for some time. Although he was gradually recov-
ering his self-control, it was plain to the other men in the
room that he was severely shaken, and Michael Adye mixed
some whisky and soda-water in a tumbler, which he took
to him. Ware drank it off at a gulp and warmly pressed
Adye's hand as he looked up into the powerful face.
There was a pleading expression in Ware's eyes, which
the K.C. understood. They were asking him to blot out
from his memory, if he could, his knowledge of the transfer
transaction. They were all witnesses of a ghastly tragedy,
and shared in a common sorrow. Let that, then, remove all
other thoughts.
“Thanks, my dear fellow," whispered Ware gratefully, as
he handed back the glass to him. He then raised his voice
to Egerton, who had turned his back upon a painful scene.
“ I'm afraid you'll think me rather a weakling," he continued,
“ but having to come in and break this awful news to my
wife fairly finished me.”
“Naturally,” said Egerton sympathetically, placing a hand
upon his shoulder.
“But I'm all right now.” And Ware stood up, his strength
returning to him.
“What's — what's the first thing to be done?” he asked
helplessly.
“Dr. Seddleton will be here to attend to Lady Ware as
soon as possible,” interposed Gurney. “He's out for the
moment, but they expect to get him on the telephone."
“ Thanks, Marston."
“Ware,” began Egerton quietly, “is the poor fellow in the
bathing-shed or — ?”
103


104
THE WARE CASE
“No, there — there isn't a trace of him," answered Ware
with emotion.
“ Then you'd better let me ring up the Police Station at
once. You're in the Metropolitan Police area here, and
I could get them over with as little delay as possible.”
" It's very good of you, Egerton. I wish you would,” said
Ware. “And Marston — will you, like a good fellow, bring
Durnwell to us. He will be able to tell us everything there
is to be told.”
Gurney left the room to carry out this request, while
Egerton through the telephone spoke to the local Police
Station.
“Is that Inspector Watkin?” he asked quietly. “Good.
It's Sir Henry Egerton speaking — yes, Chief of the Crim-
inal Investigation Department. I'm at Sir Hubert Ware's
house — Wilbury, yes. An accident has just occurred here.
Sir Hubert's brother-in-law has been drowned in the lake.-
No, there's no trace of the body.— Yes, Sir Hubert would
like you to come immediately.— Yes, of course, bring ev-
erything necessary with you — yes, there are boats here.
Come at once then, with your men. Good-bye.”
Egerton hung up the receiver, and turned to Ware and
Adye, who had remained motionless during the message.
“They'll be here as soon as possible to drag the lake,"
he explained.
“Horrible,” said Ware with a shudder. “But there
ought not to be any great difficulty in — in recovering him.
He — he can't possibly have been far out.”
"A very weak swimmer, wasn't he?" asked Egerton.
“Very,” replied Ware. “That's just the worst of it.
We ought never to have allowed him to go alone.”
" And then, no doubt, he'd got very hot playing tennis,"
suggested Adye, “and possibly cramp or —”
“Probably,” whispered Ware.
They were interrupted by Gurney, who came into the room
with Durnwell, the under-gardener. The latter stood still,
and, while giving the very meagre information that he was
able to furnish, turned his straw hat round and round in his
fingers.
ought he can't possibimmer, wasn't


THE WARE CASE
105
“Tell us everything you know, Durnwell,” said Ware.
“ Well, Sir 'Ubert, I knows very little, very little indeed.
But what I knows, Sir 'Ubert, I tells — and what I sees, Sir
'Ubert.”
He added the last few words with considerable emphasis,
which caused Ware to look at him quickly.
“ Did you see Mr. Eustace in the water, then?” he asked.
“ No, Sir 'Ubert, that's what I doesn't see, Sir 'Ubert.”
“Did you hear him cry out for help?” inquired Egerton.
“No, sir, that's where it come in. I weren't there then,
sir. I 'as my barrow on the pathway below this 'ere terrace,
and I be busy with them weeds."
“But from there you might have heard Mr. Eustace if he
cried out,” interrupted Ware.
“Yes, Sir 'Ubert, very like, Sir 'Ubert, but I weren't there
then when 'e be in the water, Sir 'Ubert. Yer see, Sir
'Ubert, I 'as my barrow on the pathway below this 'ere ter-
race -"
"You've already told us that,” said Adye, who might have
been addressing a witness impatiently.
"But not then, Sir 'Ubert; at that time I be busy with
them weeds, Sir 'Ubert."
There was a look of despair on the faces of the four
listeners, which, however, produced no effect upon the un-
der-gardener, who continued determinedly:
“But weeds, Sir 'Ubert, doesn't grow all in the same place,
Sir 'Ubert. So I wheels my barrow along, I does, Sir, 'Übert,
away to the east lawn. But before I wheels 'er along, Sir
'Ubert, I be busy with them weeds — but on the pathway to
the west below this 'ere terrace, Sir 'Ubert.”
“I understand that,” said Ware with a sigh.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, there upon the pathway below this 'ere
terrace, Sir 'Ubert, I sees Mr. Eustace, I does.”
The four listeners were again interested.
“And I can see 'im now, Sir 'Ubert, as plain as day. I
be busy with them weeds at the time, Sir 'Ubert, and Mr.
Eustace passes me. 'E wears a light grey soot, Sir 'Ubert,
with a towel round his neck, Sir 'Ubert. I says to myself,
I says, “Mr. Eustace be going to bathe.' I 'ad no doubt


106
THE WARE CASE
about it, Sir 'Ubert. With the towel round 'is neck it was
as plain as plain can be, Sir 'Ubert.”
“And then?” inquired Ware.
“I be busy with them weeds again, Sir 'Ubert. It seemed
so natural like I didn't think any more of it, Sir 'Ubert, 'ot
day and everything. So I went on, being busy with them
weeds. Well then, Sir 'Ubert, I'd just got up a tidy lot,
and my back ached a bit, so I stopped, Sir 'Ubert, and just
looked about me like. Then I sees Mr. Eustace a-sittin' on
the seat lower down under the laburnums. 'E was a-smokin',
Sir 'Ubert. And then I says to myself, 'e don't seem very
anxious to go in, I says. But then that didn't strike me
overmuch at the time, Sir 'Ubert, but I sees 'im as plain as
day.”
“ Yes ?”
“Well then, Sir 'Ubert, just at that part there be no more
weeds to be busy with.”
“ That's a comfort," muttered Egerton to Adye.
"So I 'ups with my barrow away to the east lawn I does,
Sir 'Ubert,— just below the croquet where you was playin',
sir, with Mister er Misses Gurney,” he added to Egerton.
" And there I stays for some time, Sir 'Ubert.”
“ Right in the other direction away from the lake,” said
Ware.
“That's correct, Sir 'Ubert. And from there I sees no
more of the poor young gentleman, Sir 'Ubert. I sees and
’ears nothin' of anybody except the croquet balls up above
me. And them I doesn't pay much attention to, Sir 'Ubert.
I be busy with them weeds at the time —”.
“But you went down to the shed, I understood," inter-
rupted Ware.
“That be later, Sir 'Ubert, and it ’appened in this way,
Sir 'Ubert, if I may explain.”
“ Yes, yes, go on.”
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, I be busy with them weeds on that 'ere
east lawn. And time flies some'ow when you be busy with
weeds."
“Does it?" groaned Adye to Egerton.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, at last when I could find no more weeds


THE WARE CASE
107
to be busy on, I says to myself, I says, “I'll put them weeds
on the rubbish 'eap, which be near the bathing shed,' that's
what I says. So I wheels my barrow back, Sir 'Ubert, from
the east lawn till I reaches the pathway to the west again.”
“Where you had first seen Mr. Eustace? ” said Ware.
“That's right, Sir 'Ubert. There I finds one or two more
weeds to be busy on. Them weeds escapes us sometimes,
they do, Sir 'Ubert. Well, when I gets them weeds up I
looks around me again, and I notices the seat lower down
under the laburnums empty. That, Sir 'Ubert, meant that
Mr. Eustace 'ad gone,” he said mysteriously, “but ’ow 'e'd
gone and when 'e'd gone I doesn't say, Sir 'Ubert. But it
didn't strike me at the time. Well, I puts my weeds in my
barrow, and wheels 'er by degrees down to the rubbish 'eap
by the water."
“And you reached it?” said Adye tersely.
“Oh, I reached it right enough, sir.”
“ Altogether, then, from the time you first saw Mr. Eustace
on the pathway to the time you reached the bathing-shed
twenty minutes to half an hour may have passed?” inquired
Ware.
" Quite, Sir 'Ubert, I should say. Them weeds take time,
Sir 'Ubert.”
“ Well?”
“Well, when I reaches the shed with my weeds —"
“ Yes, never mind the weeds now. They're all up, you
know,” said Adye impatiently.
They had at length reached the point of the narrative, and
the experienced King's Counsel was not for letting it slip.
“What did you do then?” he asked.
Durnwell continued to consider that the catastrophe con-
cerned Ware more than it did Adye, and addressed his
master solely.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, I knows some time 'ad passed, and I
sees no one in the water. Then I says to myself, I says,
the young gentleman must ’ave finished and gorn back to the
'ouse, specially when I notices the door of the shed weren't
fastened. That's what I says to myself, Sir 'Ubert." He
paused for a moment and lowered his voice almost to a
know.” said Admind the weedsed with my we


108
THE WARE CASE
whisper: “ Then I just opens the door wider, I does, Sir
'Ubert, and I sees what I sees. The poor young gentleman's
grey soot, which 'e be a-wearing on the pathway when I be
busy with them weeds, were 'angin' on a peg in the shed.
'Is towel be on the table; but ’is bathing dress, what I forgot
to say 'e 'ad under 'is arm when I be busy with them weeds,
was gorn."
The four listeners remained quite still, and Ware, sitting
forward in his chair and gazing fixedly in front of him, closed
his eyes in pain.
“ And — and then?” he queried feebly.
" Then, Sir 'Ubert,” continued Durnwell in a hushed tone,
“I goes right into the shed, I does, and looks about. Not a
thing was a-stirrin', Sir 'Ubert. There be the grey soot a
'angin' on the peg, and what's more, Sir 'Ubert, there be the
young gentleman's under garmints, 'is shirt an' vest an' cotton
pants, on the chair close by, an' 'is watch an' chain on the
table by 'is towel, Sir 'Ubert. Then I says to myself, I says
- p'raps hafter hall, 'e be on the platform on the water side
of the shed by the steps just ’avin' a look at it, so to speak,
so I goes through to see, I does, Sir 'Ubert. But there be
no one there surely, Sir 'Ubert, and no one in the water. It
thinkin', Sir 'Ubert, p'r’aps 'e be gorn for a row. But they
be there, all three of 'em. I sees 'em as clear as day, I
does."
“Did you leave everything in the shed as you found it?”
asked Egerton.
“Never touched nothin', Sir 'Ubert.”
“And then you came to the house to give the alarm,” said
Adye, putting the shutter on the story.
“Not just at once, Sir 'Ubert,” proceeded Durnwell, who
consistently addressed all answers to his master. “ Not just
at once. I comes out of the shed again, I does, Sir 'Ubert,
and there I sees my barrow full of them weeds I was a-goin'
to chuck on the rubbish 'eap.” .
“Oh, lord!” murmured Adye once more to Egerton.
“And then I says to myself, I says: ‘Them weeds must
wait.' So I takes my barrow, I does, Sir 'Ubert, and pushes


THE WARE CASE
109
'er to the side — that be to the left side of the shed, leavin'
them weeds in 'er and—”
“Yes, yes,” ejaculated Ware, as he rose to his feet and
paced the room restlessly.
“ And you walked with your news to the house,” inter-
posed Gurney.
“ Beggin' your pardon, Sir 'Ubert, and to make a long
story short, so to speak, there be no walking for me then, Sir
'Ubert. I ran to the 'ouse, I did.”
Egerton, of course, was in his element in an accident of
this nature, and may be pardoned for introducing a some-
what professional attitude.
“I think, Ware, if you don't mind,” he suggested, “I'll go
down to the shed with Durnwell.”
“Of course," answered Ware, as he continued to pace the
room.
“Yes, Sir 'Enery," was the gardener's eager reply. “And
I can show yer heverythin', Sir 'Enery. We could go over
the 'ole course, we could. I could fust pint out that 'ere
pathway where I be busy with them weeds, and —”.
"No, straight to the shed, please,” interrupted Egerton
promptly.
“I'll come with you,” said Ware, with an effort. “You,
too, Adye, if you will, and Marston. I'm a bit shaky, and
I'd — I'd rather have every one round me just now. You
understand.”
He poured some more whisky and soda into a tumbler,
and drank it off. Gurney was by his side, watching him
sympathetically. He held out his hand silently to Ware, who
grasped it weakly.
“ Your hand's as cold as ice," said Gurney feelingly.
“Yes, it's horribe this — horrible.”
“Don't you think you'd better stay quietly here, Sir Hu-
bert?”
“No, no. I'd rather come with you all.”
“ Celia's looking after Lady Ware."
“Thanks, yes, I know.”
“ And I don't suppose the doctor will be very long now,"
added Gurney.


110
THE WARE CASE
Ware turned towards the window with his secretary, and
picked up his hat from the table.
“We'll lead the way,” he said in a low tone to Adye and
Egerton.
All four then passed out slowly through the door-window
to the terrace, followed by Durnwell, and, taking their move-
ments from Ware, hesitated momentarily under the scorch-
ing afternoon sun as they surveyed a beautiful scene.
Each of the five men was silent. Each of the five men
was thinking. If their thoughts could have been written
down then and there, it would have been ascertained that
the majority favoured a mental contrast between what was
and what had been but half an hour ago. A gruesome
tragedy had been enacted. A strange stillness was in the
air. Death lurked in every corner of the ground. And
the day laughed.
Taking a long breath, Ware passed his arm through Gur-
ney's, and proceeded to the left slowly. Adye and Egerton
followed them in silence, and Durnwell brought up the
rear. He was the only one of the five who allowed his
gaze to wander. In passing the west wing of the old Eliza-
bethan house his eyes rested upon a window in the servants'
quarters, wherein a crowd of very excited and very in-
quisitive faces was watching breathlessly the small and
mournful procession. Decidedly, it was a moment of con-
siderable importance to Durnwell. It was a unique episode
in his life. Certainly none of the indoor servants had ever
undergone so prominent an experience; and when he thus
saw his intimates he bestowed upon them no look of recog-
nition whatsoever. On the contrary, he appeared to ignore
their existence, while at the same time he perceived the
chance of a demonstration of his superiority. Accordingly,
in full view of the Wilbury household, he hurried past Eger-
ton and Adye, and was quickly by Ware's side.
“If you'll come down them steps, Sir 'Ubert,” he sug-
gested, “ I be able to show you where I fust sees Mr. Eustace,
Sir 'Ubert."
Ware allowed him to pass, and as Durnwell descended
a flight of old paved steps, followed by the other four, he


THE WARE CASE
111
stood out, he felt confident, in the eyes of Rate and his foot-
men, of the chef and his kitchen-maids, of the kitchen-maids
and their scullery-maids, of the upper-housemaids and their
under-housemaids, as the unquestioned leader of the expedi-
tion. It was a short-lived glory for him, since he was
quickly below the line of vision from the window. But it
had its glamour while it lasted. He then pointed to the gar-
den-seat on the lower level, while the others stood still.
“There be the seat, Sir 'Ubert, what I spoke of. It be
there I fust sees 'im, Sir 'Ubert,” he began, as he proceeded
to indicate the path. “And it be this 'ere pathway where
you gentlemen be all a-standin' where I be busy with them
weeds. If yer looks close, Sir 'Ubert, yer'll see some of the
’oles they made. There be a tidy lot of them weeds, Sir
’Ubert, and —"
“Yes, yes,” interposed Egerton, who pointed towards the
right, “and then you went, as you told us, to the east
lawn.”
“ There's nothing there for us to see,” said Ware quietly.
Durnwell was a trifle disappointed at the interruption, and
fell silently behind Egerton and Adye, who followed Ware
and Gurney in the direction of the lake.
Sir Hubert and Marston Gurney did not exchange a word;
but Michael Adye spoke his thoughts to Sir Henry.
“Extraordinary what half an hour can do," he said.
“ Just now when the poor fellow came into the library there
seemed as much chance of Lady Ware inheriting that for-
tune as —”
“And how money goes to money, by Jove!” sighed Eger-
ton.
But he did not know what Adye knew, and the K.C. did
not undeceive him. Ware halted outside the bathing-shed
and waited for the others. They all hesitated by the closed
door, and Durnwell saw a further opportunity for explain-
ing details. He came forward quickly and spoke in a hushed
tone.
“I shut the door, Sir 'Ubert, before I runs up to the 'ouse
with the news, Sir 'Ubert. Shall I open it, Sir 'Ubert?"
After a moment's pause, during which each face wore a


112
THE WARE CASE
strained look, Ware nodded assent; and Durnwell, opening
the door slowly, entered the bathing-shed. He stood facing
them with his back to the open side and the water beyond.
“If you'll come in, gentlemen,” he continued in a half
whisper, “ you'll find I tells yer everythin' correct.”
There was a general indication from the others that they
wished Ware to pass in first, and after a very natural hesi-
tation he acquiesced.
Adye closed the door, and there fell upon the little party
of serious-faced men that painful silence which haunts a
chamber of death. The stillness in the air, too, was awful.
The trees outside were motionless — as motionless as stage
trees in a stage storm, which is saying a good deal. The
water was glassy; it stared. It would have beaten any
painter. All the birds were dumb, and the insects seemed
lulled to sleep. Amid the quiet the five men stood stock-
still, and slowly the eyes of each became riveted upon one
object, which lay upon the small table. It made itself felt.
In the silence round about, it was the only thing that ap-
peared to live. It was Eustace Ede's watch. It ticked very
loudly.
“That be Mr. Eustace's, ain't it, Sir 'Ubert?” said Durn-
well.
“Yes," was Ware's whispered answer as he bit his lip.
“And them 'is clothes, Sir 'Ubert?” continued the gar-
dener, pointing to the grey suit.
“Yes, yes," replied. Ware, raising his voice. “It's all true
enough. I'll go back to the house now. It's horrible, this.”
He passed out of the door and closed it after him.


CHAPTER XI
Swell, and to keeaster he found it them. In the ah-
“Ohid a few was ten for
TGERTON was glad when Ware left them. In the ab-
L sence of the master he found it easier to question
Durnwell, and to keep him closely to the point.
“ Show us, please, exactly where Mr. Eustace used to en-
ter the water."
Durnwell went out upon the platform, followed by the
others, and pointed to the wooden steps which descended
from it. Egerton's demeanour was somewhat peremptory
and business-like, and the gardener was quickly reduced to
short answers. The weeds were effectually killed.
“Just 'ere, Sir 'Enery."
“Would he be in his depth there?”
“Oh, yes, Sir 'Enery, by them steps."
“And a few yards out?”
“It be eight or ten foot deep very quick, Sir ’Enery.”
“ What's the bottom like?”.
“Well, Sir 'Enery, there be a tidy lot of mud and a tidy
lot of weeds."
“I see,” said Egerton very quickly on hearing the familiar
word.
“ They grow thick, they does, them weeds, Sir 'Enery,
and —”
“Yes, yes, that's all I want to know.”
Prompt silence from Durnwell.
Egerton, Adye and Gurney stood upon the little landing-
stage under the sun, staring at the smooth water. Each of
the three was picturing the lifeless body of the boy, who but
a few minutes since was of their party in the house, lying
alone beneath the peaceful, unruffled surface, when, attracted
by the sound of voices close by, they caught sight of a party
of men walking towards the bathing-shed.
"Ah, there's Inspector Watkin with his men. He's been
quick," said Egerton.
Durnwell, foreseeing further inquiry and the opportunity
113


114
THE WARE CASE
for further explanation, hastened through the shed to con-
duct the police party to the scene. He returned quickly
with Detective-Inspector Watkin, two other men also in
plain clothes who carried ropes with ghastly-looking hooks
attached, a third man who was obviously a gentleman, and
Rate, who, seeing a chance of being “in it,” had caused
himself the unusual inconvenience of personally conducting
people, who, in his own estimation, were distinctly inferior
in station, to the place of the accident.
The detective-inspector was typical of his calling. How-
ever he had been dressed he could have passed as nothing
else in this world. His plain clothes certainly did not dis-
guise him. He was a veritable danger-signal to every black-
guard about. He stood at the salute and greeted Egerton
in a tremendously throaty and stentorian tone: “Good
afternoon, Sir Henry. This is Dr. Winter, Divisional Po-
lice Surgeon.”
The inspector had indicated the man of gentlemanly ap-
pearance, who held in his hand the inevitable doctor's bag.
“How are you, Dr. Winter?” said Egerton. “ This is a
sad job.”
“ Terrible," replied the middle-aged doctor. “ I've - er
- I've brought everything with me in the event of life not
yet being extinct,” he added, holding up his bag.
“No chance of that, I fear," answered Egerton. “The
accident occurred some forty-five minutes ago, and there's
no trace of the body."
“ You needn't wait, Rate," said Gurney, who had observed
the butler's eye revolving round the bathing-shed and stamp-
ing every detail upon his memory.
“Oh, very well, sir," was the sad reply. And Rate re-
treated dejectedly to the house, greatly to the pleasure of
Durnwell, whose sole services were required.
Egerton quickly recounted the details of the tragedy to
the inspector, who duly inscribed them in his pocket-book.
“Yes, Sir 'Enery,” broke in Durnwell, “but yer be leav-
in' out 'ow it was me what fust came to see the young gen-
tleman, and 'ow I be busy with them weeds at the time,
and "


THE WARE CASE
115
“Your weeds," said Egerton sharply, “have played a
prominent part in your story, but they have nothing to do
with the accident.”
“ Only answer the questions put to you. Understand?”
was Inspector Watkin's noisy command.
Durnwell was sat upon, and became silent.
“Is that the young gentleman's watch?” inquired the in-
spector, pointing to the table.
" I've already said that, and I don't wants to repeat my-
self," answered Durnwell sulkily, with a "put that in your
pipe and smoke it” nod of his head.
The inspector took up the watch and chain, and opened
the sovereign-purse at its other end. He then proceeded to
count the three sovereigns which it contained, put them
back, and made a note in his pocket-book. He then pointed
to the grey flannel suit, the white hat, the underclothing and
the shoes, and eyed the gardener.
“ Those the things he'd been wearing?"
“I've already said that, and I don't wants to repeat my-
self,” replied Durnwell in the same tone.
The inspector felt in the pockets, and extracted a cigarette
case and holder, a match box, a pencil, fourteen shillings in
silver, and three pennies. He placed them all by the watch
on the table, again took up his pocket-book and elaborated
his note, concluding the operation with the words, “ four-
teen shillings in silver and threepence in bronze."
“ Is that his towel ?” he then asked of Durnwell.
“I've already said that, and I don't wants to repeat my-
self.”
Adye and Gurney exchanged glances, and even in the cir-
cumstances failed to suppress a smile.
The inspector stepped out upon the landing-stage with
Egerton.
“Is this where he went in, sir ?"
“ I've already —”
“Yes, but Inspector Watkin was addressing me, Durn-
well,” broke in Egerton, so quickly that the gardener had
no chance. “ Yes, this is the spot,” he replied to the in-
spector.


116
THE WARE CASE
with
or the
ging the graselected
bank, the latrion.
He further told him the depth of the water and the other
details which Durnwell had furnished.
Egerton then agreed with the inspector that the two men
with the rope had better begin the gruesome task of drag-
ging for the body. Accordingly they passed through the shed
to the grass bank, and from the two boats and the punt
the men selected the latter as being, they thought, the
most handy for the operation. It either could be .propelled
by a pole or by a small pair of sculls with adjustable row-
locks. It was lying alongside the boats farthest from the
shed.
While the two men with the rope and hooks were con-
templating the craft, and in turn scratched their heads in
the process, the rest of the party watched them silently.
“Are they just going to begin, Marston?” inquired a
hushed voice of Gurney.
It was Sir Hubert Ware, who naturally more restless than
the others, had been unable to remain in the house alone.
“Yes, Sir Hubert,” replied Gurney. “How is Lady
Ware?”
“I haven't seen her. She's still in her room with your
wife," was the quiet answer.
The two men were now in the punt, the one in the middle
with the sculls, the other in the stern arranging the rope with
its hooks between his knees. Durnwell bent down upon the
bank to set the chain free, and stepped back suddenly with
a grunt of surprise.
“What's the matter?” asked the inspector as loudly as if
he had been addressing a squad of prisoners.
“Why, this 'ere chain," replied Durnwell. “It ain't fas-
tened !”
“Well, why should it be?”
“Becos it be my business to see that all them boats is .
fastened, Mister Inspector. And two hours since or less
they was.”
“Yes, but about an hour ago I bathed from the punt,"
said Gurney.
“And did yer fasten 'er up afterwards, sir ?” asked Durn-
well.


THE WARE CASE
117
“I'm certain I did - to the stake there. I remember do-
ing it."
“ Then someone came since and undo 'er; that be my
pint, Mister Inspector. I knows what I knows, I does."
Inspector Watkin turned to Ware:
“ Perhaps the young gentleman took the punt himself and
bathed from it, Sir 'Ubert?"
“Very unlikely," answered Ware seriously. “I believe
he always went in from the steps."
“Invariably," interrupted Gurney.
“Still, it's possible he might have done it this once, sir,"
continued the inspector.
Durnwell had taken a great dislike to Inspector Watkin,
and smiled rather contemptuously at him.
“Beggin' yer pardon, Mister Inspector," he said, “I
doesn't see 'ow it's possible.” He knocked one fist upon the
other as he proceeded to make his point. “I be the only
one what sees 'im, ain't I? And 'e bathes alone, don't 'e?
Well, what I means, gentlemen, is this 'ere”; and he pro-
ceeded to address the entire party: “If 'e takes that 'ere
punt alone and bathes alone, and gets drowned alone, ’ow,
and this be what I puts to the inspector perticler, 'ow, I
asks, could 'e 'lave put back that 'ere punt in 'er proper place
after gettin' drowned?"
Inspector Watkin glared at him, and his black moustache
looked decidedly blacker than usual.
Ware and Gurney remained silent, but Egerton turned to
Adye.
“ The man's right, by Jove!” he said. “Er — Ware, how
many other gardeners have you? One of them might have
been here and left the punt unfastened.”
“ Four,” answered Ware.
“And I can tell where they all was, Sir 'Ubert,” volun-
teered Durnwell.
“There be M'Pherson, the 'ead gardener. He be gone
to Aberdeen to bury 'is aunt. So 'e don't count. Then
there be Paterson, what lives over there," and he pointed
to the far end of the lake. “ Paterson be gone 'ome to
'is wife some 'arf hour afore, 'E 'ad leave from 'er lady-


118
THE WARE CASE
ship. 'Is wife 'ad a babby last night. That made 'is ninth.”
“Never mind the babies, Durnwell,” said Egerton.
“I never does, Sir 'Enery; I leaves that to the missus.
Then there be Rickworth. 'E be gorn 'ome too. 'Is wife
'ad 'ad a babby as well, but not the same night. Oh, no,
sir. That be the night afore that. It be a race between
'em, Sir 'Ubert, and she won. It be 'er sixth, Sir 'Ubert.
Oh, it be a wonderful part of the country this for babbies.
They comes up year after year just like my lilies, they does.”
“And the fourth man?” asked Egerton. “Had he had
a baby too?"
“ Branch !” laughed Durnwell. “ Branch ain't married,
sir; 'e 'as no babbies as far as we knows of. No, sir;
Branch be in the kitchen garden all the time. 'E be there
now, Sir 'Ubert. 'E ain't moved."
“And you, then," continued Egerton, “are the only re-
maining hand who could have unchained that punt after
Mr. Gurney had fastened it up?"
“ But, sir, I does nothin' of the sort.”
“I know, I know.”
“Why, as I tells, I be busy with them weeds at the
time.”
“That's enough, thank you," said Egerton abruptly, and
any further irrelevancies were stopped.
At a signal from the inspector the men pushed off in the
punt.
The man in the middle sculled slowly, and the man in the
stern dropped his grim-looking hooks into the water. Those
on the bank watched them without speaking and stood very
still. It was a quest unlike any that they had taken part in
before, and in spite of the nearness of it all to Ware and
Gurney, and — shall we say? Adye, it had its own strange
fascination to every pair of eyes which looked out. All
were silent, and the only sound which reached them was
the groan of the sculls in the rowlocks and the gentle splash
of the blades, as they disturbed the sheet of glassy water
which seemed to laugh hypocritically in the sun while it
hid so much from sight. Why they all stayed it would be
difficult to explain. But they seemed riveted to the spot,


THE WARE CASE
119
-
----
Morbidity seized hold of them, and the weirdness of it all
attracted them strangely.
The punt drew away from them until it was abreast of
the bathing-shed steps. Then a commanding wave of the
arm from Inspector Watkin directed the men to go fur-
ther out. They complied with the order, and the inspector
marched heavily through the shed to the little landing-stage.
The rest of the party followed him mechanically.
On the way, his arm linked in Ware's, Egerton said to
him:
“ Curious that about the punt-chain. I wonder who could
have unfastened it.”
“I can't imagine," answered Ware. “ Perhaps, Mars-
ton,” and he turned to Gurney, "you didn't chain it se-
curely?”
“Oh, yes, Sir Hubert, I did," was the answer, “I re-
member securing it firmly to the stake. It couldn't possibly
have come undone. There's only one explanation that I can
think of.”
“What's that?" asked Ware.
“Why, that Eustace did think of bathing from the punt,
unchained it, and then altered his mind, forgetting to fasten
it up again.”
“Of course, that's probably the explanation of it, don't
you think, Egerton ?” said Ware.
“A very good one. I should think it was,” agreed Eger-
ton.
“I don't see how there can be any other," interposed
Adye.
Once again they all silently watched the search-punt, which
was now in deep water, being rowed slowly backwards and
forwards, the man in the stern with the rope now standing
up and now sitting down. The punt was doing its work
well. It was crossing methodically a fair-sized area of
water, but as yet no sign came from the men. They were
sufficiently near for any remark that passed between them
to be carried by the water to the party on the landing-stage.
For another fifteen or twenty minutes the monotonous
process lasted, the quest appearing fruitless, the lake refus-
--
- -
-
-
.
- -
dicallunt was of now stals and


120
THE WARE CASE
ing to give up its dead, when suddenly a quick voice from
the stern was audible, which caused every man on the land-
ing-stage to hold his breath.
"Hold on, Jim, a moment," it said.
The man with the sculls stopped immediately, and the
speaker stood up and involuntarily bent over the rope. It
pulled him forward strongly, and it was plain to those upon
the landing-stage that it was tauter than before. Each one
craned his neck forward to see more clearly. .
“Keep 'er still,” continued the voice, which had a dis-
tinctly excited tone in it. “ I've got it! ”
Then with one hand the man signalled explicitly to the
onlookers, while with the other he hung on grimly to his
“catch.” His companion joined him in the stern, and to-
gether they pulled the rope with difficulty into the punt.
“Keep the pull steady, Jim. It's fast in the weeds. That's
the way — that's it!” A few inches more of the rope came
up into the punt, and the two men, with bent backs, tugged
in unison.
"Hup!- hup! — hup!” they cried together at every
heave.
“Not much more, Jim; once get it clear of the weeds, and
we shall see it."
“Half a 'mo, Jack," was the breathless answer. And
with the sweat streaming down them they rested a few sec-
onds under the scorching sun. The eyes of every man by
the steps were glued upon that strained rope, and the face
of each was paler than before. With those most intimately
concerned, imagination ran riot. What tale of suffering
would the face reveal? Could they bear to look upon it?
And yet they stayed: they knew not why.
The two men renewed their hideous task. To Ware and
Gurney it seemed interminable.
“How much more of this?” groaned Ware. And Eger-
ton took his arm.
Silence again for a few more seconds, and then a sharp
cry from the punt:
“ See, there it is! Steady now!”
It! They were referring to Eustace Ede.


THE WARE CASE
121
In another moment the party on the landing-stage clearly
saw something rise helplessly to the surface, and three of
the number looked away while the body was lifted carefully
into the punt. They were Ware, Gurney, and Adye.
“I-I feel absolutely sick. I think I'll go in,” said Gur-
ney.
“I'll come with you,” whispered Ware.
Michael Adye joined them in silence, and all three of
them, without the exchange of a word on the way, walked
slowly up to the house.


CHAPTER XII
A S they entered the hall they encountered Dr. Seddleton
n coming down the stairs. He had answered Marston
Gurney's telephone message promptly, and had just left Lady
Ware. He was a man in the fifties, sandy-haired, pink-
complexioned, long-nosed, long-bodied, short-legged and
spectacled, with a remarkably non-committal method of ex-
pressing himself. He was, in fact, a typical country general
practitioner whom you read of in novels or see on the stage.
Ware waited for him, and the short legs hastened down the
last few steps.
As many people do when they want to condole with you,
he merely assumed an ultra-funereal expression, hanging his
head upon one side, closing his eyes, and extending his hand
without uttering a syllable. He remained in this strictly
conventional attitude for the space of some seconds, when
Ware released his grasp. He then put on his panama in
silence, walked towards the front door, and would have left
the house without saying a word if Ware had not put a nat-
ural question: "How is my wife?".
“Distressed — very distressed, Sir Hubert."
Adye and Gurney wore a blank expression. It did not
need a medical man to tell them that.
“Of course the mental shock —” mildly suggested Gur-
ney.
“Mental shock is an expression that I might use and yet
that I might not,” replied the doctor. “ It is, I consider, a
nervous condition Lady Ware is suffering from. I am send-
ing her a mixture which I hope will calm her.”
“I trust there's no cause for anxiety ?” inquired Adye.
“ There might be and there might not be," answered Dr.
Seddleton. “I shall look in in the morning to see how she
is.”
122


124
THE WARE CASE
“But thereath, without w, finished, d
“Adye,” he said earnestly, “I want you if you will to wipe
out from your mind that cursed money document.”
"I_" and the K.C. was at a loss what to say
"I know it's difficult. It must be. It was so damnably
mean that if I'd been in my right mind I never should have
thought of it. But I was mad, I tell you. I was desperate.
Forget it, will you?”
“I'd rather not talk of that again. Let us drop it, Ware."
Adye extracted the paper from his pocket, having forgot-
ten its whereabouts until now, and rose from his chair. He
walked to the table near the fireplace, and struck a match,
with which he set fire to the miserable thing. The two men
watched it burn right through in silence. Then Adye
dropped the charred result into the big grate and scrunched
it into fragments with his heel.
“ There! It's safe now, finished, done with,” he said
under his breath, without looking round at its author.
“But the recollection of it, Adye? The recollection? If
only you'd remove that!”
“We have other things to occupy us now.”
There was a quiet, determined finality in Michael Adye's
tone, and it was manifest to Ware that it would be useless to
revert to the subject. He seated himself resignedly upon
the Adams sofa, but not in his usual careless, recumbent at-
titude. He sat forward with his legs crossed, and he held
his top knee in his hands while one thumb-nail picked at the
other continuously. Adye, who was sitting upon the other
side of the room, not far from the fireplace, could see that
he was shaken by the awful catastrophe, though, battle with
the temptation as he might, he was unable to check himself
from speculating upon the real sensation in Ware's mind.
There in that room but an hour ago the man was in such
dire financial straits that he would actually have defrauded
his own wife of a comparatively small sum, a shameful
bankruptcy stared him in the face, and upon Magdalen's
own testimony he was to remain under the same roof with
her for his support. But now at the very last moment Fate
had ordained that his brother-in-law, Eustace Ede, should
jump into the water to save him at the cost of his own life.
the Adamse sat forwards while on


THE WARE CASE
125
Incontestably, Ware could have had little in common with
the boy, mused Adye; he could have entertained but a
meagre affection for him, if any; so that there could be no
question of his suffering any lasting, poignant grief.
There was, of course, the first shock to be got over, the
momentary horror surrounding the manner of the death, but
with Ware's hitherto conspicuous buoyancy all that would
pass speedily enough, Adye felt confident. Indeed, if he
knew anything of human nature, and precious few under-
stood it better, he would, before the world was many days
older, entertain a feeling of considerable relief. This was
Michael Adye's irresistible conclusion. He felt equally sure
of Magdalen's actions when time permitted. The inher-
itance was hers absolutely, she could deal with it as she
chose. And, of course, with a nature such as she possessed
it would be a question of give, give, give to the uttermost
farthing. But would she remember her promise to him? —
never to undertake any financial transaction before consult-
ing him. He prayed with all the fervour in him that she
might. If she did not — ! But such a thing was unthink-
chance was he's actions we conclusiderable relias man
her of it.
As for the K.C. himself, he was only a human being, and!
this ghastly tragedy which had befallen the house had to his
mind its compensations and its other side. What has not?
When not engaged in his work he had but one absorbing
thought — the woman he loved, the woman he revered; and
the untimely death of the boy gave life to her. At any rate
it saved her from a mere existence. Her place in the world,
over which she reigned, was secure again. She was spared
the misery and the want which another had reduced her to.
But how quickly had the change been wrought? Why, it
was only just now that he was inveighing against her father's
will and the injustice of it, from the very spot where he now
sat! The big clock which at this moment, during the silence
of these two men with their two minds working in their own
respective ways, ticked loudly as it jerked its minute-hand
forward. It had only made one complete circle since Adye
was standing by Magdalen's side and fighting with himself


126
THE WARE CASE
not to tell her all, while with scarcely the utterance of a
word he revealed everything.
The bare truth was plain. Eustace Ede's life had been
a nuisance, but his death was a master-stroke. If only he
could be conscious of it! Perhaps he was. We cannot be
sure. We only can be sure of one thing: he will keep it all
religiously to himself.
The silence between the two had lasted for some time, and
each of them remained in the same position, Adye looking
at Ware from time to time as his thoughts ran on, Ware
not heeding him, and, with his eyes fixed upon one spot of
the carpet, still picking at his thumb-nail, when the door
opened, and Marston Gurney came into the room quietly.
“Sir Hubert,” he said in a low voice.
Ware awoke from his reverie nervously.
“ They're bringing — Eustace to the house. Shall I tell
them to bring him here?”
Ware looked rather helplessly at Adye as if to ask for
advice.
“I should say so," said the K.C. in a hushed tone as he
approached Gurney. “Upstairs Lady Ware would be
rather close to it all, wouldn't she? And then for the in-
quest it would be more convenient, I think.” Ware winced
at the hateful word, and rose from the sofa.
“ Have we got to go through all that horrible business ? "
" I'm afraid so," said Adye gently.
“I'll tell them then,” almost whispered Gurney as he re-
turned to the door.
“How does your wife say Lady Ware is?” Adye in-
quired.
“Quite quiet. She's lying down in her room.”
“Does she know they've found - ?"
“Yes."
Gurney passed out into the hall, leaving Ware and Adye
still in the library, and by the front door met the party with
their sad burden. Ware with an effort turned to Adye and
walked to the door.
“Let us go into my wife's morning room while ---"
He had no need to finish the sentence, but hurriedly


128
THE WARE CASE
stated, had been engaged in the kitchen garden the entire
afternoon, emerged from his potatoes and overturned a bas-
ketful. All these were anxious for the latest details, over
which, we may take it for granted, Durnwell had not been
less prolix than usual. But at this particular instant he had
apparently, after a prolonged narrative, been relegated to a
minor position of importance by Paterson, who, with em-
phatic gestures, was addressing the other three.
It was, in fact, clear that Paterson, for a reason which we
shall hear of shortly, had resumed the leading part. Rick-
worth and Branch, with their hands on their hips, were
listening to him open-mouthed, while from Durnwell's glum
attitude it might have been conjectured that the statements
of Paterson were of less moment than his assumption of
what actors call “the centre of the stage." But all four
were in complete harmony in one respect - their point of
view of the tragic affair. It could not be better explained
than by the quotation of one categorical remark from Pat-
erson.
“I told M'Pherson 'e'd regret goin' to Aberdeen to bury
'is aunt."
Sir Henry Egerton joined Dr. Winter and Inspector Wat-
kin in their serious whispered conversation; Rate ventured,
with more than his customary cadaverous expression, upon
a hushed suggestion to Marston Gurney, coughed signifi-
cantly on approaching the swing-door, thus causing behind
it a general crackling of stiff print skirts and an universal
retreat of squeaking shoes, and, having passed through to
the servants' quarters with an erectness born of a decidedly
superior position, beckoned solemnly to the housemaids, or-
dered them, as he put it, to “lower the blinds throughout
the mansion," and finally, while awaiting any further sum-
mons, retreated to the pantry to partake of another glass of
port.
Directly the door swung to, Egerton beckoned silently to
Gurney:
“Where is Sir Hubert ?” he asked.
“In there with Adye,” replied Gurney, as he indicated the
morning-room.


130
THE WARE CASE
caurent sis Hulshoukatüre muht to be
“Furthermore, continued Dr. Winter, “there is a dis-
tinct contusion upon the forehead over the left eye with a
small abrasion likely to have been caused by contact with
something sharp or hard."
This additional information made a profound impression
upon those who heard it for the first time, and Egerton
took Ware's arm very sympathetically.
“ I'm awfully sorry, my dear fellow," he said, “but I
know, however painful it must be to you, that you'll realize
Dr. Winter is only doing his duty.”
“Certainly, but —” And Ware failed to frame a sen-
tence.
“But these marks,” said Adye, rather scornfully; "might
not the hooks be responsible for them?”
“I'm afraid not," was the doctor's answer. “The hooks
caught the body at once under the back.”
"If Sir Hubert will pardon my interference," the K.C.
continued, “I should like to point out, Dr. Winter, that any
suggestion of this nature must not be made thoughtlessly or
at random. There is much to be considered here. The
tragedy in itself must inevitably cause great sorrow to Lady
Ware. But if this is added — !"
He spoke strongly, as he felt. The sense of protection of
the woman he loved surged in upon him.
"I quite agree, Adye,” said Egerton. “ And if it were
possible, I'm sure Dr. Winter and Inspector Watkin would
avoid all allusion to this."
“ You could rely on me for that, Sir 'Ubert,” said the
inspector in a penetrating voice, utterly out of tune with
the occasion. “But, Sir 'Ubert, there's more than this.”
And he referred to his inevitable note-book and read from
it: “Paterson, the gardener, was near the other end of the
lake on his way to his wife at the time the young gentleman
was bathing.” The inspector drew in a long breath and
continued reading his note more loudly than ever: “ It
seems he stopped walking for a while as he felt the heat,
and from where he stood, that's a bare half-mile away, he
saw, he thought, something in the water, but distinctly per-
ceived the punt with a man in it bending low over its side.”
van
the cars inevitabit, there


THE WARE CASE
131
Ware listened as if stunned, and Gurney was ashen pale.
“Then some one did unchain that punt after Mr. Gurney
had fastened it?” said Adye.
“Evidently, sir," roared out the inspector, “if Paterson
is correct.”
“ Could Paterson distinguish the man at all?”
“No, sir. He was too far away. That's the trouble.”
“To clear this up, Ware,” continued Adye, “because it's
of great importance, would you care to have Paterson in to
question him?”
"I must say I think it would be as well,” was the quiet
answer. “I do feel that my wife should be spared all un-
necessary pain. These horrible suggestions must remain
confidential if there's nothing substantial behind them, don't
you think?"
“That's exactly how I feel about it,” agreed Adye. “Is
the man there?"
" I'll fetch him," volunteered Gurney, who hastened from
the room, and found the four gardeners still in close con-
fabulation on the terrace.
"I'm afraid if Paterson is at all like Durnwell,” said
Egerton, “ secrecy will be out of the question.”
“ Probably all over the village by this time, confound it !”
rapped out Adye. “It's dead certain to reach some of the
jury before the inquest. Then they'll put an awkward ques-
tion. Ware, tell me, is this man Paterson fairly reliable?”
“Good enough chap, I fancy. There's nothing against
him except he's a bit fond of his beer, and was had up before
the bench a few weeks ago for brawling in the village. My
wife insisted, though, in looking over it."
"Ah; pity!” muttered Adye. “If she hadn't done that,
both of you might have been spared a good deal.”


CHAPTER XIII
THEY all waited anxiously for Paterson's appearance,
1 and Ware seated himself near the window as the gar-
dener came into the room with Gurney. He gave a faint
smile of recognition to Paterson, who put up one finger to
his forehead deferentially. There was nothing remarkable
about Paterson's appearance. Like a good many other gar-
deners, he looked older than his forty-five summers, that
was all that was noticeable. His face was as lined as a
map.
“Ask him anything you like," said Ware to Inspector
Watkin.
The inspector cleared his throat for a tremendous effort
in the presence of one of the most able members of the Bar
and the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department.
Preferment undoubtedly loomed in the distance.
“Now, my man,” he began in thundering tones, “I want
to caution you to adhere strictly to the truth.”
“That's my way, I 'opes, Sir 'Ubert,” Paterson inter-
informatica my wayself upesanat
rupted, drawing himself up, and ignoring, as Durnwell did,
every one but his master.
Sir Hubert nodded with a smile.
“Sir 'Ubert wishes you to repeat to him," continued the
inspector, “what it was you saw."
“Or thought you saw," interposed Egerton.
“ There be no thinkin' about it, Sir 'Ubert. I see clear
enough, though -_”
“ Though what?” was the quick question from the K.C.,
who was quite unable to suppress it.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, I doesn't mind ownin' up, I doesn't,
that after the babby was aborn last night I did ’ave a glass
at the ‘Duck and Goose.'"
“ More than one, perhaps,” suggested Adye.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, there 'ad to be two, that's sure - one
132


THE WARE CASE
133
ingly.
to the missus and tother to the babby. It be our ninth, it be,
and the fust boy.".
“And one to the father, eh?” asked Egerton.
“Well, Sir 'Ubert, to tell the truth, I be that done, I be,
that I didn't sees ’ow to leave myself out.”
“Quite right,” said Ware approvingly.
“And then, perhaps,” pursued Adye in his cross-examina-
tion, “there were some friends of yours in the 'Duck and
Goose'? I should say you're a man with plenty of friends,
Paterson.”
Paterson, as he said afterwards, liked the lawyer. “'E
be a gentleman, 'e be.” Accordingly he condescended to an-
swer him.
“There be a tidy few, sir,” he said.
“And they very properly drank your health, didn't they?"
“Oh, yes, sir, they does that.”
“ And, of course, you very properly drank theirs ?”
“Well, sir, I be a man of honour, I be.”
“Quite right, Paterson. I should have done the same.
And how many friends of yours were there in the 'Duck
and Goose'?”
“Four or five, I'm thinkin', sir.”
“ Possibly six ?”
“Maybe, sir."
“Or nine?”
“Oh, no, sir, there be no nine.” And the gardener was
most emphatic.
“Eight, then? Come now, a popular fellow like you."
Paterson's face simply grinned with pride.
“Well, yes, sir, there might ’ave been eight. It be an
even chance."
“Quite so. And this morning and most of to-day I
suppose you've rather suffered for it, eh? One generally
does."
“Ah, sir, but that be the truth. My ’ead's a-been thump-
in' since the marnin'.”
“Naturally. One can't help these things. And I dare
say to-day with the heat and everything you wouldn't be so
sure of your sight as usual?”


THE WARE CASE
135
left the room. In doing so he almost fell over one of the
footmen outside, who was inconveniently close to the door-
handle.
“Most unfortunate," muttered Adye. “The man's story
when tested amounts to very little. Damnation!”
“But, my dear Adye,” said Egerton, “it doesn't stand
alone, worse luck!”
“You mean Dr. Winter's examination?" Egerton nodded.
“You've er — no doubt at all in your mind, Dr. Winter?”
“None,” replied the doctor, “the finger-marks on the
throat are clear and recent, also the contusion and abrasion
on the forehead.”
“But the suggestion is horrible and preposterous,” ex-
claimed Ware.
“Here is the poor boy who leaves us but a few minutes
before to bathe. Durnwell sees him after he left us abso-
lutely alone. He's apparently the only person who did see
him, and surely no one is going even to hint that Durn-
well —” He broke off into a contemptuous laugh.
“Of course that's ridiculous,” agreed Egerton.
“ And Eustace hadn't an enemy in the world !” continued
Ware.
“ Plenty of money in the purse and pockets, too, Sir
'Ubert,” joined in the inspector as he proceeded to refer to
his note-book. “So that couldn't have been the motive of
the crime."
“ Crime !” ejaculated Ware forcibly. “The idea is out-
rageous — childish. And I'll trouble you to keep that word
out of this. It must be avoided at all costs at the inquest.
Let that be thoroughly understood.”
As master of the house Sir Hubert's fresh attitude ap-
pealed strongly to Adye, who was only thinking anxiously of
Magdalen and the effect of such a revelation upon her.
And it reduced the professional element in the room to si-
lence. Inspector Watkin stared expressionlessly before
him, and Dr. Winter with a dubious shake of his head wiped
his pincenez with his handkerchief, while Sir Henry Eger-
ton, who, as Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department,
was in a quasi-official position in the matter, but was really


136
THE WARE CASE
there as a friend of the family, sat down in evidently very
perplexed thought.
The painful silence in the room, during which each of the
six grave men was regarding the catastrophe from his own
point of view, lasted for several seconds. It was the K.C.
who broke it. He turned to the Doctor and “handled "
him discreetly.
“Dr. Winter,” he said, “would you at the inquest feel it
incumbent upon you to enter into these details you have
described to us?"
Adye, Ware, and Gurney hung anxiously upon the de-
layed answer.
"I - I'm afraid so,” whispered the police surgeon. “You
see I -"
“ Thank you, Doctor,” said Adye charmingly. “That's
all I wanted to know. And the conclusion you've come
to, I may take it, you are prepared to give on oath?"
“I am. If they were only possible deductions, a mere
tissue of hypotheses, I should not think twice about them
in such a grave matter. But they amount to a positive cer-
tainty in my mind. And, believe me, Sir Hubert,” he added
gently as he turned to Ware, “I am deeply sorry to have to
say this.”
A further silence fell upon the room, and Dr. Winter con-
tinued:
“May I say, however, that I should be more than pleased
for any medical man you like to name to meet me in the
matter with a view to a confirmation, or otherwise, of my
conclusions?”
“ That is very fair of you, Dr. Winter,” said Adye.
“Who generally attends you, Sir Hubert?" asked the
doctor.
“Dr. Seddleton," answered Ware. “He was here but a
few minutes ago to see my wife.”
“Dr. Seddleton; certainly. May I telephone to him at
once? ”
“By all means."
Gurney conducted Dr. Winter to the telephone in the hall,


THE WARE CASE
137
nutOvoarse lipSully, and to him. "oadway
and the reply was that Dr. Seddleton would come immedi-
ately. As he left the receiver the hospital nurse, whom he
had summoned, was admitted to the house, and went with
him without delay into the silent library, there to give the
last attention to all that was left of Eustace Ede.
Gurney returned alone to the morning-room door, where
he encountered Inspector Watkin, who, with a perfunctory
“Good afternoon, sir," passed by him with a heavy tread,
into the laughing sunlight. As he followed the roadway
every stone on it seemed to spell mystery to him. Being
off duty, he lighted his pipe carefully, and puffed out the
smoke through his big, coarse lips with a sigh of excep-
tional contentment. Obviously he must extract his note-
book again, and ruminate. This was a wonderful case, he
thought. Why, it was in high society! It had a sensa-
tional glamour all over it! It was the chance of his life!
If only he could unravel it! Promotion was leaping into
his arms! He would be transferred to London for a cer-
tainty! He must go and tell his wife! What did somebody
say about an “ill wind "?
But while the inspector was in this high state of opti-
mism, Egerton was wondering, after a suggestion to the con-
trary from the experienced K.C., who had descried an over-
eagerness on the inspector's part, whether he could entrust
this inquiry safely to Watkin's hands.
"Anyhow," he said, “ there's no need to hurry. It would
be rather unfair at this stage to supersede him. And I
think his head is screwed on pretty right. I'll wait till the
inquest is over. There's never any knowing what a cor-
oner's jury may do. They are always capable of anything."
He extended his hand warmly to Sir Hubert.
“Must you go, Egerton ?”.
“Yes, I must walk across to my cottage and catch the six
train up. I'm due at Scotland Yard on the Soho case as I
told you. Good-bye, my dear fellow." He lowered his
voice as he turned by the door. “My love to your wife.”
But Ware sat in his chair with no light in his eyes. The
mention of the Soho case, which, like all interesting criminal


138
THE WARE CASE
cases, had so fascinated him but a little over an hour ago,
evoked no enthusiasm from him now. Indeed, it fell upon
deaf ears.
Egerton made his way through the beautiful park to his
cottage. He had been connected with countless cases of
crime and mystery, and to his mind, whatever degree of trag-
edy and suffering they may have involved, they remained but
cases to him. The “Black Museum” at Scotland Yard,
which he was always ready to show his friends, contained
numerous relics of famous trials — counterfeit coins, the box
of poisons used by Neil Cream, the respective ropes, with
their grim nooses, that hung Fowler and Milsom and Crippen,
and interesting photographs to the morbid. All these and
many more formed part of his life's work, and they were not
unnaturally to him only links in a chain, chapters of a story,
scenes of a play, fragments of a case. Quite right. Busi-
ness is business. And in Egerton's line the guilty must be
discovered and pay the price. It would not be his province
to deviate from the point. He must not feel. He must make
straight for his prey remorselessly, regardless of the misery
and the torture brought to the relatives of the creature of the
chase, unmindful of all but that justice must be done. Like
every man in his particular profession, be he doctor, surgeon,
advocate, judge, he must be a machine and keep its compo-
nent parts well oiled. The world would stand still if it were
otherwise. It is only the intrusion of the personal element
that can alter the point of view. And here at Wilbury it
thrust itself signally upon Egerton. The end of Eustace
Ede brought pain to him. He knew the boy. And then
the tragedy was full of sorrow for his friends whom he
liked, and whose hospitality he enjoyed. He felt strongly
for Lady Ware, who, as Eustace's sister, would suffer acutely
if this theory of the doctor was substantiated. It was a
horrible thought to him. And he hoped devoutly that by
hook or by crook the coroner's jury would not act upon it.
If Eustace Ede was murdered he trusted that it would never
be openly suggested, and that his case might be joined to
that countless number of deaths," from natural or accidental
self signally upon He knew the bonds whom he


THE WARE CASE
139
causes,” when in fact the hand of a felon has done it, which
are going on around us in all degrees of society on a good
many days out of the three hundred and sixty-five in every
year. This catastrophe was not a case to him. It was a
deep anxiety.
Meanwhile Dr. Seddleton had returned to Wilbury
promptly in answer to Dr. Winter's summons, in his little
two-cylinder car. The spluttering of its engine attracted Dr.
Winter's attention, and without ceremony he conducted his
fellow-practitioner to the library, where they remained for
some time. From the morning-room, Ware, Adye, and Gur-
ney had also heard the car, and through the door, which Adye
opened, saw the two doctors enter the sad room on the other
side of the hall. While they awaited the result scarcely a
word passed between them. Each of the three, however, was
anxiously speculating upon it, and in the process all of them
came silently to the same sanguine conjecture — that Dr. Sed-
dleton would act up to his reputation, and give undoubtedly
a non-committal opinion; that as to both questions, whether
the marks upon the throat were caused by the pressure of
fingers, and the contusion and abrasion by a blow, his answer
would be that they might have been or might not have been.
All three, indeed, were thankful that Dr. Winter did not ask
for a different second opinion, and after a lapse of some min-
utes their suspense was terminated by the mild and cheerful
voice of Dr. Seddleton as the door was slowly opened.
“May we come in?” he asked.
“ Please, Dr. Seddleton,” answered Ware.
The bidding of Sir Hubert was accepted by both medical
men, and in answer to their inquiring faces Dr. Seddleton
cleared his throat as a prelude to verbosity. “I- er —
have — er — made an examination,” he began, “on the invi-
tation of Dr. Winter, and being always prone, though you
may not have remarked it, Sir Hubert, to the exercise of
caution in diagnosis, the human frame being an excessively
complex structure, and the world in which we live a laby-
rinth of doubt, a quagmire of uncertainty, yet in this case, I
am happy to say, there is no measure of doubt in my mind at
a prelude to Saraces Dr. Seddleto.
ye-er-mades


140
THE WARE CASE
smiling blandi, the one lookingte glanced at Dr. Ythe blow,
blandly, and withhad nothing further the two-cylin-
all - none at all. I most emphatically agree in every respect
with Dr. Winter's conclusions. They are irresistible.”
Ware, Adye, and Gurney were heavily hit by the blow,
and, after some hesitation, Ware glanced at Dr. Winter and
Dr. Seddleton, the one looking strong and grave, the other
smiling blandly, and with a laconic expression of thanks
indicated plainly that he had nothing further to add.
In a minute or two the spluttering of the two-cylin-
der car was again audible as it conveyed the two doctors
away.
A deep depression took hold of the occupants of the morn-
ing-room. Not a syllable was uttered. And after some mo-
ments Ware rose from his chair without a word and went
out to pace the terrace alone.
“This is perfectly ghastly," said Gurney under his breath.
“ Yes," replied Adye, “it's terrible to think of what Lady
Ware has to endure. Publicity in any form is obnoxious to
her. But this form -”.
“God! What rotters doctors are!” exclaimed the
younger man.
“Marston, tell your wife to keep all this from Lady Ware
till to-morrow. Let her get through the night as well as she
possibly can.”
He walked up and down the room with a set face. The
underhung jaw showed clearly that he was nerving himself to
meet a crisis. It was a crisis to him because it was a crisis
to her. He felt as a big, strong, manly fellow does feel where
the idol of his life has to suffer. His very heart-strings were
being sundered. If he could but remain to succour her!
If he could but give her the love that she deserved! Or,
failing that, if there were but some man upon the earth
worthy of her with the right to hold her up, in whose arms
with all her womanly frailty she could rest! If the world
were but differently made! If its laws could be altered, its
conventions smashed! If we could but break them with im-
punity and then laugh at them at ease! Nature could but
rule!
“ Are you going back to town to-day?” asked Gurney at
length.
underhung jaw It was a crisis to manly fellow doe


THE WARE CASE
141
“Yes, at once.” And Adye stopped suddenly in his walk.
“ What's that?” he asked.
“My wife, I believe," replied Gurney.
He opened the door wide, and the two men, to their
astonishment, saw Magdalen and Celia. The former came
to the morning-room, and in a quiet voice, which was quite
under control, asked Gurney to go to his wife. He did so,
closing the door after him.
Never in Magdalen's life, thought Adye as he gazed upon
her, had she looked so overpoweringly beautiful. She had
come down straight from her troubled rest, and was attired
charmingly in a simple white tea-gown of an elusive Liberty
material which clung somewhat closely to her figure and
defined its exquisite lines. Her face was pale and grave,
but there was about her a look of brave resignation, almost
of repose, now that the first shock had passed, a wonderful
dignity in sorrow. The great grey-blue eyes seemed even
larger than before, the delicately dark pencilled brows more
striking, the golden streaked hair more brilliant. There are
some faces which grief does not spoil.
Adye, who was deeply moved, stepped forward to her
slowly in silence. He could not speak. There was no need.
She understood. He merely took her hands in his as he
looked into her eyes,' which, as they remained steadily fixed
upon his, wore an expression of great purity and goodness.
He was shaken. He let her hands fall and walked to the
door. She did not stir from her position. He turned the
handle, and then let it jerk back. He was making up his
mind to speak. Then in a low tone, with a depth of feeling
in it which went straight to her heart, he said: “You won't
forget your promise to me, Magdalen, about money mat-
ters?”
“No," she answered gently. "I — I'm glad I saw you
before you went."
The next instant he was gone. There was safety in dis-
tance again. And he must put miles between them. He
hurriedly told Ware upon the terrace that no one need bother
about his car, and that he would walk round to the garage
himself. He also told him that his wife was alone in the


142
THE WARE CASE
morning-room, and that in his opinion she ought to remain
in ignorance of this horrible development in the tragedy until
the morning.
Ware held out his hand, which Adye took, and the two
men regarded each other with strange feelings. It would be
impossible to describe them. In a few more minutes the
K.C. in his big car was returning to London.
Ware hesitated before joining his wife. Finally he went
to her, and found her seated with a piece of paper in her
hand, which she continued to read without removing her eyes
from it. He stood beside her for some time apparently un-
noticed, watching her intently, and at length she held out the
paper mechanically.
"I found this on his table - afterwards," she murmured.
It was Eustace's unfinished letter to her, which had touched
her greatly. He took it in his hand, and with a face drawn
with pain he read it silently to the end. Only the suggestion
of a moan escaped him as he gave it back to her.
“It's terribly sad," she said, “but I — I'm glad he wrote
it. Poor Eustace!” She paused for a moment, and on
noticing his very grave expression, said suddenly: “How
do you read it, Hubert ?”.
“ How do you mean?” he asked almost inaudibly.
“I mean, what was his intention?”
Ware did not reply for a second or two. It was plain to
Magdalen that he was affected by the boy's spontaneity
as she was, and that he felt with her how much they had
misunderstood him.
“It's evident from his words what — what he meant,” he
answered with difficulty. “He says distinctly that he wanted
you to have some of the money while he lived, and — and
that he would have it seen to- on his return from Hanover."
Magdalen barely caught the conclusion of his sentence.
It was almost lost as he moved away to the window.
“Then nothing else about it strikes you?” she asked.
“ No.” And the reply was whispered.
“It didn't Celia either. Oh, I'm glad!”
Ware turned round from the window, and, with his hands
behind his back, looked at his wife perplexedly.


THE WARE CASE
143
“I—I don't understand," he said.
“I only had a horrible fear — all wrong, I'm sure now —
lest Eustace killed himself intentionally.”
“But —”
"I know what you're going to say,” interrupted Magdalen
quickly. “Celia said the same. He speaks of returning
from Hanover, and of course that's a proof I was wrong.
Oh, I'm glad I was wrong!”
The tears welled up into her eyes, and she passed through
the doorway slowly. There was nothing more to be said.
Not even tragedy could reunite these two. She wished to be
alone with her thoughts. He was content for her to be so.
She wished him to be alone with his.
And as she traversed the hall, now darkened by the
dropped blinds, and with faltering step approached the library
door to look upon the face of her brother, the big grand-
father clock boomed the hour. It was five. Only five! And
less than three hours ago she herself, the beautiful figure in
white, had stood upon the edge of the lake.
How much can happen in three hours!


CHAPTER XIV
COME days had passed at Wilbury, and ah that has to
happen in a house after a calamity of this nature had
happened in the duly prescribed order and strictly orthodox
fashion of this well-regulated country. The house was be-
sieged by human beings of all kinds. The front-door bell
was scarcely ever silent. Cards of condolence poured in
from the country people, who, with few exceptions, when
coming up the drive, which skirted the far end of the lake,
made a point of telling the chauffeur or coachman to slow
down with the sole object of having a look at the water.
“ Kind inquiries ” after “her ladyship” were frequently
brought on foot, so that on the way a peep at the bathing-
shed might be had. The whole neighbourhood was filled
with curiosity, and the Wilbury catastrophe was the sole topic
of conversation at every table for miles round. There was,
too, universal sympathy for Magdalen, who was conspicu-
ously popular in all circles, partly through her charm of
manner, partly through her exceptional beauty, though here
and there some, who were less endowed, could be heard in a
whisper to maintain with conviction, and not without some
hope, that this would knock her about considerably. “ Oh,
no, my dear, you don't go through those shocks without them
leaving some mark.”
There was a large gathering of all classes at the funeral in
the little churchyard upon the hill, which, to the disappoint-
ment of several, Magdalen did not attend, cheating them
thereby of any observance of her looks in mourning, com-
ment upon its excessiveness or its paucity, and of criticism of
her bearing. Such as these, who swarm at funerals and
weddings alike, and whom at either precious little escapes,
had to be content with a careful scrutiny of Sir Hubert's face,
which all seemed to agree was as handsome as ever and
t upon its exuch as these, weither preci
144


THE WARE CASE
145
extremely grave, a general approval of the outward grief of
the Wilbury household, and a thorough examination of the
profusion of flowers, which were pronounced to be gorgeous,
and of the very sympathetic inscriptions on the cards attached
to them. Many of the wreaths had come from London, and
of their number not a few had been ordered by letter or
telegram, with the price named, by acquaintances of the
Wares who happened to be abroad at the time, indulging in
after-cures, or climbing mountains, or speaking vile Italian
on the Lake of Como, and who supposed they ought to send
some flowers, though it really was a great tax. when the
acquaintanceship was so slight.
But not unnaturally the greatest interest of all, both local
and general, was taken in the inquest, which, after several
adjournments, was expected to terminate to-day. That gave
everybody a deal to talk about and read about. At any
time of year, when the position of the persons concerned is
remembered, the inquiry would have been given prominence
in the papers; but in the autumn, in the dead season, with
Parliament, strange to say, not sitting, the staggering ab-
sence of all strikes, and no foreign complications except the
perennially worked-up invasion scare, the space and attention
accorded to it in the press were enormous. It occupied the
chief page, the drought being relegated to the next. Flaming
headlines and startling placards were ubiquitous: “ Drowned
in the Lake”; “Sensational Inquest ”; “The Bathing-shed
Mystery"; " The Man in the Punt”; “ What the Gardener
saw”; “ Story of the Weed-gardener, amusing witness”;
“Doctors' examination, grim suggestions”; “ Famous
Beauty's evidence, how Lady Ware gave it”; “Baronet's
Brother-in-law Drowned ”; “The Wilbury Tragedy”; this is
but a limited selection. Then elaborate descriptions of the
lake, accompanied by photographs of the scene of the disas-
ter marked with a cross, the bathing-shed, the punt, Sir Hu-
bert and Lady Ware — dreadful libels — and poor Eustace
Ede, who, had he lived, would never have achieved the fame
of publication; sketches of witnesses at the inquest, with
letter-press, including Inspector Watkin, “who made himself
heard in every corner of the room”; Dr. Winter, a down-


146
THE WARE CASE
right police surgeon; Dr. Seddleton, “a small local practi-
tioner”; Paterson, to his annoyance, a small head; and
Durnwell, “a believer in large families,” to his infinite pleas-
ure, a big head,“ whose attention to the weeds afforded relief
to the painful investigation.”
All this had to be. It was inevitable, however great the
suffering caused to a temperament like Magdalen's. Some
have advertisement thrust upon them. That was her case.
Some achieve advertisement, but they are very different
persons, merely curiosities and figures of fun, fighting for
the limelight, leading a pathetic existence with an interviewer
in one pocket and a sycophant in the other because they are
not clever enough to do without them, causing the publica-
tion of statements that they are this or that, which nobody
believes, endeavouring to force themselves into positions to
which their colleagues invariably decline to elect them, con-
sistently proclaiming in advance what they are going to do,
and inflicting much disappointment in the fulfilment, but
nevertheless innocently causing considerable amusement to
the world, which would be a dull hole without its charlatans.
To such as these even an affair of this kind would be better
than nothing. It would be an excellent advertisement. They
would get something out of it. It would keep them in
the public eye. But it was thrust upon Magdalen, and it
was loathsome to her. She was in her bedroom on this
day alone with Celia while the intelligent coroner's jury was
sitting below in the hall. The strain and wretchedness of
the last few days had taxed her strength greatly. Blow after
blow had struck her, and the shock she had sustained from
the conclusion of the doctors had shaken her and made her
indignant. In an interview with them before the inquiry she
had begged them in vain to think well before hinting at such
a thing in public. “Is not my brother's death in itself
sufficient for me to bear,” she had urged, “without your
suggesting murder?” She had given her evidence, as had
Ware, with dignity, she describing how her brother, who was
a very weak swimmer, had gone to bathe in the usual way,
leaving her in the library, Ware corroborating her and saying
how he left his wife in the library to join the party on the
To such, which wontly causind


THE WARE CASE
147
croquet lawn, and also that the boy was due to start for the
German family on the Monday, to whom he had written
that very day. Additionally, upon Michael Adye's advice
Magdalen had produced Eustace's unfinished letter to her in
the desperate hope that the coroner's jury, whose ways, as
Sir Henry Egerton put it, are inscrutable, might possibly
return a verdict of suicide, if not accidental death. That,
she thought, would be painful enough, but it would be pref-
erable to murder. Anything rather than that.
These various points she was at this moment recapitu-
lating to Celia vehemently. She retraversed the ground in
detail and referred to the coroner's jury contemptuously.
She had been greatly tried, but whereas in public she had
preserved her self-possession and quiet dignity, when alone
with her friend she could let herself go. “The questions
some of the creatures put to me!” she exclaimed.
“Had Eustace any enemies? Had any one a grudge
against him? Had any one anything to gain by his death?”
“Yes,” said Celia,“ but you fairly shut the gentleman up
then. When you answered straight, ‘No one but myself,' I
thought he'd explode.” :
Magdalen paced the room restlessly, beating one hand
upon the other as she walked. Her windows were wide
open upon another very hot day, and a babel of voices from
the terrace reached her plainly. She went to her window
to look out, and saw a knot of men laughing and talking and
lighting pipes and cigarettes. They were reporters, and
there were no more shorthand notes to be taken. She only
remained at the window for a moment, but it was long
enough for one gentleman to obtain an excellent snap-shot.
As the click of the “shutter” went Magdalen hastened back
angrily into the room.
"Oh, to get away from everybody – to hide one's head ! ”
she cried.
A knock then came upon the door.
“Who's there?” she asked nervously.
“ Hubert," was the answer. “ Can I come in?"
“ Unlock the door, Celia, dear, will you?”
The girl did so, and Ware walked in slowly.


148
THE WARE CASE
“I only came to tell you that the verdict will be out very
soon,” he said quietly. “They're considering it now. I
thought you'd like to know.”
Magdalen inclined her head, and Ware returned to the
doorway.
“ I'll come back directly I hear," he added.
He closed the door after him.
“Oh, if they'll only allow poor Eustace to lie there in
peace!” Magdalen exclaimed as she pointed towards the hill.
“ If they only would! This is so cruel."
“ Perhaps they will, dear. We can't say.”
“That would be something — something!”
Celia did all she could to soothe her by word and action,
but there is the great fact that a woman in her trials needs
more than a woman. She is all very well so far as she goes,
but when the greatest want in life is absent the best she can
do is to play second fiddle. This was the tragedy of Magda-
len at this moment. She was the wife of Sir Hubert Ware,
but she had no husband. There was Michael Adye, the man
she loved and who loved her. They were made and meant
for each other, these two. She had only to give way and
seek him out. A telegram to the north, where he was en-
gaged politically, would summon him to her aid. But this
woman was built differently. She must think of him with all
her might, and on his account make all regrets, all her long-
ings stand still. “If thou faint in the day of adversity thy
strength is small.”
For another half hour the two friends remained where
they were. A few commonplaces with prolonged pauses
were uttered, but nothing more. Magdalen said the chintz
covers in the room had faded, and the other agreed with
her. Celia drew attention to a small piece of stained glass
with the arms of England upon it let into one of the old
windows, as if she had only heard of it for the first time.
“I love that,” she said. “To think it was placed there
all those years ago because Queen Elizabeth slept in the
room."
“ Yes, it's been called the Queen's Room ever since.”
Then a delightful bullfinch in his cage upon the table
om husband.d her. Thead only the


THE WARE CASE
149
bowed and piped his two tunes through merrily, and when
Celia approached the bars swore at her roundly.
At last came the sound of many feet from the old paved
terrace below, and a general hubbub, and once again a knock
upon the bedroom door. This time it was Marston Gurney.
He was pale and agitated.
“Is — is it over?” asked Magdalen.
“Yes.” And a frown crossed Gurney's face.
“ Well?”
The young man hesitated and screwed up his courage to
answer.
“They've -- they've done it, the fools.”
“What?"
“I'm sorry, Lady Ware - they've brought it in as murder
-a verdict of wilful murder against a person or persons
unknown.”
Magdalen shook perceptibly, and sank into a chair, cover-
ing her face with her hands.
Outside, groups of people were excitedly discussing the
result. Inspector Watkin was bawling his refusal to answer
questions. Dr. Seddleton's two-cylinder car was spluttering
once more as its owner and Dr. Winter took their departure
together, and a score of reporters' boys were racing for their
lives on bicycles to wire the news to London.


CHAPTER XV
THE evidence and the verdict caused a sensation. The
1 papers were full of it. The public devoured them.
A “Society murder," as it was called, is a rare specimen.
It is only the Divorce Court that can provide a “hardy an-
nual.” Accordingly it was read, perhaps, by a larger circle
of people. To begin with, there was nothing about the story
to cause the papers to be hidden by fond parents from un-
married daughters and boys still at school, though it may be
open to argument whether such concealment is effective or
futile; and again, whereas many persons never read the con-
ventional, sordid crime, they will do so if, as in a case like
this, it is clothed with some distinction and refinement, and
has a cachet about it. Here were Sir Hubert Ware, Bart.,
and Lady Ware, well known and popular for reasons we have
seen, and sympathy for them in such a calamity was wide-
spread. Again, there was considerable diversity of opinion
in regard to the verdict. At hundreds of houses it was the
subject of debate. Some took the view of the Wares, who
openly resented it. Others shook their heads very wisely,
and could not accept the theory that the doctors had blun-
dered. Reliance, too, in some quarters was placed upon Pat-
erson's story about the man he saw bending over the punt, a
view, however, which was strongly combated by opponents,
who urged that his family festivities the night before were
not conducive to a clear vision half a mile away. And then,
of course, there were those who thought that there was
“more than met the eye” in Eustace's unfinished letter to
Magdalen. There must have been a quarrel between them
over money. Suppose it made him commit suicide. How
awful for her! And some “knew for a fact” that the
brother and sister did not “hit it off.” They also had it on
the very best authority that the Wares were in low water;
150


THE WARE CASE
151
their sister-in-law had a brother who had a friend who knew
a clerk in a stock-broker's office, and he said that the Wares
were extremely hard pressed at the time of the murder.
“ And what deduction do you draw from that, Elizabeth ?”
asked a pater-familias through his teeth.
“Well, it's curious — isn't it? — that Lady Ware should
come into that money, just at the right moment,” replied
his wife.
“That's you all over, Elizabeth. You mean you think
Lady Ware murdered him!”
“Well, it's possible.”
“Rubbish! Rot! Jack, pass the marmalade. I shall be
late for business. The way you rush at conclusions, Eliza-
beth, is appalling."
“You needn't lose your temper, George.”
" Appalling! I-I won't come down to breakfast. I'll
have it in bed. This Wilbury case is becoming a perfect
obsession with you. For the last three days we've yapped
of nothing else, absolutely nothing. I'm sick of it. We
don't know the people, and we never shall know them. If
you talked sensibly about it, it would be different. But you
don't. Nothing but wild theories, mad conclusions, rushing
off at tangents. Jack, the toast. We'll bar the subject from
this moment. See? We'll bar it altogether. I'm sick of it,
I tell you."
A prolonged pause, while Jack, the fifteen-year-old son and
heir, passed the toast-rack, and the master of the house took
up his morning paper, and rushed at the middle page.
“What do you think of the Wilbury case, Jack?” he asked
at length.
“Well, father, I've got my own idea.”
“Oh, you have, have you? Then let's have it.”
“I believe Sir Hubert Ware did it.”
This was the climax. The father rushed demented to his
business, and on his arrival there, in response to inquiries,
said that he was not feeling very well, while after his de-
parture a heated discussion between the mother and son was
continued. The mother stuck to her guns about Lady Ware.
The son was adamantine in his theory of Sir Hubert, with the


152
THE WARE CASE
result that the mother forbade him to come down to
luncheon.
“No, when you argue, Jack, you become dictatorial and
offensive. I postively dread breakfast of a morning. You
must have your lunch upstairs with the children.”
“Well, that's rather hard cheese, mother. You were just
as dictatorial as I was.”
“Leave the room!”
And he did.
In the afternoon the mother expounded her view to three
callers, but since none of them were related the argument was
carried on amicably. The callers, however, did not see eye
to eye with their hostess, nor with each other. One thought
" that young secretary, Marston Gurney, who apparently had
no great liking for the dead boy - didn't you think? — and
had used that punt, had some hand in it.” The second sus-
pected Durnwell, the gardener. “Why did he talk so much
about 'them weeds' if it wasn't with the object of getting
off the point? The third, who happened to be the wife of
a briefless barrister who was accustomed to laying down
the law, considered the mistake made was in the verdict.
“You never can rely upon a coroner's jury, my husband says
so. They ought to have brought it in as accidental. Ab-
surd!”
Thus the discussion was pursued everywhere - at break-
fasts, luncheons, teas, dinners, at clubs between rubbers, at
theatres between the acts, or during them at some plays, at
suppers, on golf courses just when you are driving or going
to putt — everywhere. Escape from it was impossible. Con-
sequently it was worn threadbare, and when another coal
strike was seriously threatened and succeeded to the chief
place in the newspaper, it became quickly one of the nine
days' wonders, and with the lapse of several weeks it was
almost entirely forgotten, except, of course, by friends and
acquaintances of the Wares. Just a dull, cold allusion to it
might be heard occasionally, as, for instance, that "nothing
more seems to have been discovered in that lake affair," at
which supporters of the accidental death theory were not
surprised, as they consistently maintained that there was


THE WARE CASE
153
nothing to discover. But they had been trying weeks for
Magdalen, and it was far from being a nine days' wonder
with her.
Within twenty-four hours of the verdict the general strain
had told upon her so severely that a serious nervous break-
down seemed inevitable. Her appetite failed. She could
not sleep. Nothing roused her. Her intimates became
alarmed, and finally she was ordered to the Engadine, where,
the season being long since over, she could be sure of the
combination of absolute quiet and fine air. Dr. Seddleton,
whom at the time she really was not strong enough to refuse
to see, although it was her inclination to do so after the
evidence he had given, attended her, and on being asked
whether it would not be unwise for her to travel that dis-
tance alone with her maid, lapsed into his familiar answer
that it might be or might not be. Thus it came about that
the Gurneys decided upon their own initiative to accompany
her. The departure was arranged hurriedly, as the early
removal of Magdalen from the painful surroundings of Wil-
bury was considered urgent. Accordingly she was taken to
her house in Bruton Street, and within a week started upon
her journey.
A sigh of relief went up from the entire household when
mey heathindando e
they heard that they were going to London. Most of its
n combinate the
members had already come to the conclusion that “the place
was 'aunted.” And now that the “excitement” of the death,
the funeral, the inquest, and nice new mourning was over,
several of the female servants declared that they had taken
“ quite a dislike to the place," and that if they had not been
going to Bruton Street they would have given notice rather
than stay in it. Rate, however, had a contempt for "nerves,"
which was fortunately shared by his wife, the housekeeper,
who, he pointed out pompously one day in the servants' hall,
was above such things, and for a time was going alone to
occupy the North Lodge. The real cause for this he did not
choose to communicate to his fellow-servants. But to Sir
Hubert he was candid, and suggested the arrangement for
certain reasons of his own. Firstly, some one reliable should
remain behind.


154
THE WARE CASE
“And then, Sir Hubert, the wife's in delicate 'ealth just
now, Sir Hubert.”
“ Oh, really – is she -er -?”
“ Yes, Sir Hubert, she be expecting before long a little
permanent society."
Ware with difficulty kept a straight face, while the butler
continued funereally:
“ And at such junctures, Sir Hubert, country air is benefi-
cent, and it's well, in my opinion, for the husband to be as
far away as possible. He is but a hindrance I consider, Sir
Hubert.”
As for Ware himself, it was natural that he, like Magda-
len, should be anxious to see the last of Wilbury for a time,
if not for ever. Apparently he did not feel the horror of
the affair so acutely as she did. At least he did not show
it. But he was gifted with an extraordinary amount of
self-control, and after the first shock had passed, beyond a
certain agitation, he displayed but few outward symptoms
of real grief. Did he feel it? An innately selfish person
seldom feels grief. He can be extremely emotional at the
moment of a catastrophe. But emotion is purely transi-
tory. It is not grief. And egotism can be consistent with
emotion; it cannot be with grief.
Furthermore, being entirely out of sympathy with his
wife, any feeling for her suffering was never traceable to
him by the few in intimate contact with him, though to the
outside world, when an opportunity presented itself, he gave
a widely different impression. In those circumstances he
referred frequently to “my dear wife ” and her tribulation,
and it would only be the cynic who would mistrust the use
of that term of endearment, and feel convinced from its
utterance that they were leading a “cat and dog life.” The
cynic is often right. But without an attempt to analyse
wholly his thoughts and feelings it may be assumed that
Ware was glad that all the worry was over; that his wife
had gone abroad; that he was once more in town and at
his club, which some people thought he was rather quick to
return to, though they were thankful to welcome him at
and red frifferenteano


THE WARE CASE:
155
the Bridge table; and that he was free to carry on his secret
amusements.
The general exodus from Wilbury had been as hastily
effected as Magdalen's departure. The oppression was not
confined to the servants' hall. “We must clear out as
sharp as we can,” said Ware one day to Gurney. “I can't
breathe in the place. The gloom's awful.”
And he went to London alone the evening before Mag-
dalen, leaving hurried directions to Rate to take up most of
his things in the morning.
Marston Gurney sympathized with his feeling entirely.
He had it too — the sensation of a caged bird fighting to
get out, unable to stand still or to think of any subject but
escape.
The two men were in the hall on the evening of Ware's
departure, waiting for the car.
- “Robson's five minutes late,” said Ware. “Where the
devil is he?"
And he worked off his impatience by lighting one of his
cigarettes.
The car then came to the door, and Ware, with dust-coat
and goggles, eagerly took his seat.
“ Straight to Bruton Street,” was his order to the chauf-
feur.
Robson hesitated to start the engine.
“ Why don't you start?”
“ There's some one wants to speak to you, Sir Hubert."
“ Damn! Who?"
The next instant Inspector Watkin stood by the door of
the car and saluted. “ Beg pardon, Sir Hubert," came the
loud voice. “But I understand you're all leaving for Lon-
don.”
“To-day and to-morrow, yes. Why?”
“ Will anyone be left in care of the house that I know,
Sir Hubert?"
“Yes, Mrs. Rate.”
"I take it you'll have no objection, Sir Hubert, to my
going over the place should any necessity arise?"


·
THE WARE CASE
156
156
course
“Of course not. Marston, explain that to Rate, will
you?”
Gurney acquiesced.
“ But what necessity could arise ?” asked Ware.
“Well, you never know, Sir Hubert. I should like to
get at the bottom of this mystery for everybody's sake if
I could. If we could solve it, it would be a great relief to
the family, Sir Hubert."
“ Naturally. And a feather in your cap, eh, Watkin?”
"Well, Sir Hubert, 1_" And the inspector smiled
grimly with a twist of his head.
“But, my good man, you're on a hopelessly false scent,
I tell you. It can't have been anything but accidental.”
But once a police inspector forms an opinion, all the
evidence in Christendom will not shake it.
“ Anyway," continued Ware hurriedly, "you're at lib-
erty to do whatever you like. Carte blanche."
“Thank you, Sir Hubert.”
“See you to-morrow, Marston.”
The next moment the car was rushing through the park,
and one of the caged birds had got out.
Inspector Watkin was about to leave when Gurney
stopped him and spoke to him in an undertone.
“If you really think it your duty to pursue this further,
one thing, I beg of you — don't let it all get to the papers.
This horrible publicity has distressed Lady Ware terribly,
and "
“You can rely upon me, sir. The press shall have noth-
ing."
“ Thanks. The whole thing must die out now.”
Seven weeks passed, and apparently the whole thing had
died out.
The papers were silent upon the matter, and everybody,
including the Wares, felt sure that it never would be re-
suscitated.
Sir Hubert, indeed, was leading his own normal exist-
ence, and was once again in his normal spirits.
Inspector Watkin had availed himself of his permission


THE WARE CASE
157
to visit Wilbury, and soon after the general departure from
the house went over it with Mrs. Rate after a further ex-
amination of the bathing-shed. What he imagined that he
was likely to discover must be left to his own brain, which,
being a policeman's brain, worked enigmatically. All that
Mrs. Rate could report by letter to her husband was that
he went away again looking very disappointed. And Mrs.
Rate was right. The inspector returned to his wife a de-
jected man. All his ambitions were shattered. He could
find nothing to lead him any further. Every chance of
promotion was knocked on the head. He must own him-
self defeated. It was a bitter disappointment to him to find
that his prominence at the inquest was so short-lived. He
must now pray for some fresh mystery, but both he and
his wife agreed that years must pass before another of the
same distinction would be likely to come his way.
" It's bad luck, Victoria, that's what it is,” he bawled
out to his wife.
He did not bother Mrs. Rate again, but as philosophic-
ally as was possible settled down for the next few weeks
to his usual humdrum investigation of the colourless, petty
crimes which were a woeful anti-climax and bored him
greatly. The best was a burglary, but there was nothing
particularly unusual about it. Indeed, its only saving clause
was that he was requested to go to Whitehall to see the
Director of Public Prosecutions upon the matter. That
was something. His self-importance reasserted itself to
some extent when he travelled to London with his bag of
papers and “clues” to keep the appointment, but it was a
shadow of what it would have been were it the Wilbury
case instead.
During the quarter of an hour that he awaited the sum-
mons to the Director's room in the great building in Parlia-
ment Street he occupied the minutes in reflection and re-
gret and disappointment. But his wife, who had had in
no sense an easy time with him at home, had invariably
impressed upon him the wisdom of hope. That was all
that he had to cling to, and it did not satisfy him. Indeed,
when he was conducted into the Director's presence he was


158
THE WARE CASE
Finally the Dine a modicum of self produce his evide
extremely dispirited, and it required some effort on his part
to show his customary enthusiasm in the commonplace
burglary case. The presence, too, of Sir Henry Egerton
brought back memories to him. But in answer to the ques-
tions of the Director of Public Prosecutions and the Chief
of the Criminal Investigation Department, he was able,
after clearing his throat, to give loud and useful answers
which, as they appeared to satisfy his hearers, helped to
cheer his spirits and enable him to produce his evidence
from the bag with a modicum of self-satisfaction.
Finally the Director, with a pair of wonderfully pene-
trating eyes set in a keen-featured face, gave his instruc-
tions emphatically for the surprise capture of a suspected
criminal, and laid that deadly net for which he was famous,
and which, when once he had set it, was extraordinarily
hard to escape.
The discussion was over, and the inspector proceeded to
gather up his papers methodically.
“Not an uninteresting case," said the Director musingly.
"Not so interesting as the Wilbury affair though, eh,
Watkin?” put in Egerton, with a humorous wink at the
Director while the inspector's back was turned.
"No, Sir Henry. I should like to get to the bottom of
that one,” replied Watkin, still occupied with his papers.
“ Ah!” exclaimed the Director dubiously. “By the way,
Egerton, the Wares are back in town, I hear. Have you
seen anything of them?”.
“Not yet," replied Egerton. “But I'm dining with
Ware quietly on Thursday, this day week. Lady Ware's
not back yet; still in Switzerland, I believe. Poor things!
It's been a fearful time for them.”
“Of course. I've never met them. I should rather
like to."
“Easily manage that. She's a delightful woman
charming, and he's a great character, Hubby Ware. He'd
like to know you. Crazy on crime.”
“Well, poor devil, he's had his whack in this anyhow,"
laughed out the Director.
“Yes, by Jove!” continued Egerton. "Most extraordi-


THE WARE CASE
159
nary thing, you know. Only about half an hour before
that boy was drowned, the Wares and I were sitting to-
gether, and Hubby Ware was holding forth on crime, devil-
ish funny he was too, telling me he'd been reading some
French murder or other. Marvellous chap! Actually en-
ters all the crimes he reads in a book-diary."
“Well, after this I should think he's fairly cured, eh?”
replied the Director.
Inspector Watkin closed his bag with a snap.
“You don't want me any more, Sir George?” he asked
of the Director.
“ No."
The inspector walked out of the room with his customary
erectness, and when the door was closed Egerton said:
“ Poor old Watkin! The Wilbury case is the blow of
his life — a sore point with him. Did you notice how he
hurried off? Ha! ha!”
“Yes; well, I'm afraid he'll have to get over it. We
never shall unearth that. There's one last resort I want
taken, though. A reward of two hundred pounds. Not a
bit of good, but I think it ought to be done.” And the Di-
rector rose to put on his hat.
“You're still certain it was murder then ? " asked Eger-
ton.
“On the evidence, yes.”
“ Yet another of our undiscovered crimes, eh?”
“Ha! I suppose so."
And the two men smiled philosophically as the Director
gave the other a lift with his overcoat, and sent crime to
the winds.
"Egerton, you must go to the Empire and see this new
dancer.”
“ Good, eh?”
“My dear feMow, she's perfectly charming. I was there
last night with the Derek Blands. Delightful! Come and
lunch at the Reform.”


CHAPTER XVI
THE few weeks in the Upper Engadine air had done
I wonders for Magdalen. Sleep had returned to her,
and her nervous system, so terribly overstrained, had
greatly improved. She chose a quaint little nook for her
stay. It was quiet she yearned for and avoidance of the
public eye. Accordingly she selected the small Morteratsch
Restaurant, whose proprietor made a special arrangement
to keep open for her. No other visitors were there. It
was perfect. Six thousand feet above the sea level, close
proximity to the glacier which gave her glorious air day
and night, simple food cleanly served, soundless but for the
glacier-stream which flowed close by the inn, encircled by
great snow mountains, Pitz Palü, Pitz Morteratsch, and
Pitz Bernina, which seemed to shut out all the troubles of
the world, within an easy einspanner drive of the villages
round about, and the Bernina Pass, in bed at ten and up
at eight, picnic luncheons on the Morteratsch or Rosegg
Glaciers with Celia and Marston Gurney; everything dif-
ferent from her usual life — change.
The Gurneys noticed with relief the improvement it
brought. They had been anxious about her, and, apart
from her general depression and nervousness, had grieved
over the frailty which had come into her face. Now all
that had gone, and she looked ironed out. The shadows
round the eyes and mouth had vanished. She was the same
radiantly beautiful creature as ever.
The Gurneys resolved never to speak of Eustace to her,
and at first when the English papers continued their allu-
sions to the affair they were carefully kept out of sight.
Later, when all mention of it ceased, the three could read
the news in peace and be au courant with London. But
there was one other person who, Celia observed, was never
alluded to by Magdalen. That was Michael Adye. This
160


THE WARE CASE
161
impressed the girl, because she felt instinctively that she
was thinking of him. She also regarded this silence some-
what seriously. It troubled her. And she often wondered
whether her friend, who was her ideal, and whose married
life provided her with the excuse, would make a mistake.
She had tremendous confidence in her ideal; she knew that
“it was a character in a thousand ”; but, nevertheless, a
dread haunted her that she might be tried too far, and that
because she was so essentially human she would bend in
the fight.
One day near the end of their visit, when the three had
finished their sandwiches on the glacier, Marston Gurney
left them alone, and took a longer walk on the ice with
the guide. Celia opened the English paper and read out
to Magdalen the various bits of news. They did not ap-
pear to interest her greatly.
“ Any parliamentary news? ” she asked quietly.
“Oh, the debate on the Navy Estimates.”
“Interesting?"
“Usual thing — two keels to one. Oh —!” And Celia
stopped.
“ Anything wrong?”.
“No— no.” And the girl read out from the paper a
headline — because her mother-wit for once did not work
fast enough to conceal the truth —“. Fighting speech by
M.A.'"
Magdalen merely closed her eyes for a brief second, and
proceeded during the silence which followed to chip up the
ice with her alpenstock. Celia pretended to read the paper
to herself, but in reality she watched Magdalen intently.
There was no mistaking the look which crossed her beau-
tiful face. Her mind was far away from the glacier and
its grand mountains. They shut out no troubles from her
then. They formed a huge barrier to happiness. They
frowned upon her. Her thoughts were whirled back to
stern reality. Her full lips became set, and the big grey-
blue eyes seemed to see through the great moraine close by.
Celia rushed to another topic.
“Oh, they've got a new play at the St. James's," she


162
THE WARE CASE
said. “Let's see what the notice says. The last one there
was topping.”
“Give me the paper, will you, dear?” answered Magda-
len.
Celia passed it to her, and Magdalen“ took a bee-line"
for the Navy Estimates, and became absorbed in Adye's
speech.
When she had finished it she turned over one page and
yet another.
“Where are the law reports?” she asked impatiently.
“ These wretched papers have become so unwieldy you can't
find anything.- Ah, I have it.” And Celia, with a glance
over her shoulder, observed that Magdalen became en-
grossed in a libel action in which, wonderful to tell, Michael
Adye was appearing for the plaintiff.
Her mind was centred on this one soul who was the love
of her life. But she never spoke of him. Nor had she
seen him since the day of the tragedy, when he ventured
to remind her of her promise to him not to enter into any
financial transactions without seeking his advice. Those
were his last words to her. At the time of her departure
for Switzerland his valuable services in two bye-elections
had been sought, and as they were both many miles from
London he had found safety in distance again.
When Magdalen had read Adye's speech to the jury at
least three times, Gurney returned.
“To-day's Thursday, isn't it? ” she asked suddenly. It
chanced to be the same day that Egerton was with the Di-
rector of Public Prosecutions at Whitehall.
“ Yes, Thursday," replied Celia.
“I shall start for London on Monday then.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, we've had the best of the weather. It's getting
rather cold, I think. And — and I'm ever so much better.”
As they walked back to the inn, Gurney preceding them
with the guide, Celia determined not to thwart Magdalen
in her wish. She said nothing more upon the subject. But
Magdalen reverted to it.
“You see,” she said, “I must take the plunge some time.


THE WARE CASE
163
The sooner it's done now the better. And I have to meet
Hubert. The whole of our future has to be settled. I
can't go on living as I have done. It's impossible. I shall
see my solicitor directly I get back.”
Eventually they left the ice, and sauntered leisurely in
single file along the pathway which led to their quarters.
During the walk Celia, try as she might, was unable to
dissociate in her mind Magdalen's approaching departure
from Michael Adye, while she was irresistibly drawn to the
conclusion that her regulation of her future and that of her
husband was governed by her love for the K.C. She was
aware, of course, that her brother's death had completely
altered her financial position, and that there was no longer
the question of the wife continuing to live under the same
roof with her husband in order to support him. By the
sudden change in their circumstances some other arrange-
ment was feasible. But notwithstanding, though Celia de-
spised herself for the suspicion, the girl could not but feel
that if Michael Adye was non-existent, the hurry and anx-
iety for the alteration would not have arisen.
At a bend in the pathway Celia caught her up and stopped
her. A tone of hope came into her voice as a possible
means of Magdalen's permanent escape entered her mind.
“ Magda, are you going to divorce Sir Hubert?”.
A hopeless shrug of her shoulders accompanied her an-
swer.
“How can I?”
“I was only wondering —”.
“My dear Celia, until Parliament gives effect to the Di-
vorce Commission Report, consistent infidelity is not enough
in our splendidly regulated country to enable us women to
get a divorce. Besides, if it was, I think I once told you
I never could face that horror."
“Then what shall you do, dear?”.
“ Have a separation arranged by the lawyers — any-
thing!”
“But, Magda, that must mean some publicity — gossip
and ".
“Gossip!” she cried. “Isn't there that already about


164
THE WARE CASE
Eustace? Do you suppose I've escaped gossip? An ob-
ject of pity with some; of suspicion with others -"
“ Suspicion!"
“Yes, suspicion! First me; then Hubert; then both of
us!”
“O-h-h!” And the girl's face flushed scarlet as she
looked at her.
"Do you imagine, Celia, that either of us is let off ?
That's the world. It'll twist anything the way it wants,
the world will. But I mean to get something out of life if
I can, and I must get it alone if I'm to live. Isn't that a
natural ambition at the age of twenty-five?”
Just then Gurney hurried back to them excitedly with
the guide.
“There's a chamois right up on that rock. See him?
Against the sky there!”.
“Yes,” said Magdalen under her breath. “Splendid lit-
tle fellow. Hup! He's gone. There he goes, see? —
springing from rock to rock!”
They all watched the nimble animal with admiration, and
Magdalen murmured:
“ The freedom of it!”
They returned to the inn, and after tea Magdalen asked
Marston Gurney if he would mind writing a line for her to
her husband to give the day of their arrival, it being ar-
ranged upon Magdalen's entreaty that, for a time at any
rate, the Gurneys should stay with her in Bruton Street.
She herself also placed her writing-block upon her knee
and wrote two letters. She gave them subsequently for the
post to Celia, who could not help noticing the envelopes.
One was addressed to Michael Adye, and the other to Brag-
son and Bragson, her solicitors. But since Magdalen made
no further allusion to either, it was not for her to do so.
However intimate a friendship may be, there are some sub-
jects which must emanate solely from the person concerned.
And Celia was far too wise a person to act otherwise. But
if she said nothing, she thought much. She was troubled.
She dreaded the departure for England on Monday. She
had no real, tangible reason for doing so. It was merely
Ha husband to endalen's entreaty;th her in Br


THE WARE CASE
165
a strong feeling that she had — a fear that something, she
could not say what, was going to happen. She was appre-
hensive. The atmosphere was menacing. The daylight
had gone, she imagined, more quickly than usual. There
was not the usual sunset for them to wonder at, none of
those exquisite colours which transform the sky in the
after-glow and make the mountain-tops stand out like card-
board. There was no calm stillness in the air, but in its
stead a sly rustle in the trees, which bent to the increasing
breeze. Dark grey clouds, too, crept low along the valley,
and hid the snow-peaks stealthily. And with the night
came a blackness that was impenetrable. Neither the moon
nor a star was visible. The girl waited for a storm to
burst. She wished that it would do so and get it over.
Her feelings might change then. The oppression in the
air might go. She might feel happier. Of course, it was
only the atmosphere which made her feel wretched. She
schooled herself to think so.
When the three sat down to dinner it was evident to the
other two that Celia was miles away from the Morteratsch
Restaurant.
“You're very distraite - to-night,” said Magdalen with
a smile.
“I know,” agreed Gurney. "Just what I was thinking.
You're becoming a shocking bad listener, Celia. Here have
I been holding forth for the last five minutes on the Labour
Unrest, and you haven't heard a word.”
“ I'm so sorry, Marston. There's a storm brewing, I
think, and it makes me feel funny."
She did her best then to take an intelligent interest in
the conversation, but at bézique afterwards, though she was
generally an indifferent card-player, she played worse than
usual. Gurney was her partner in a chouette against Mag-
dalen, who was “in the chair," and, being more than sat-
isfied with her hand, had crossed the room to fill a pipe.
On his return he was horror-stricken.
“But you've played out your fourth knave of dia-
monds !” he cried. “There's another queen of spades
in, and we might have had the Grand coup, and with a ru-


166
THE WARE CASE
Be was that her for wo to catch she ping hacan 02
bicon too! I say, Celia, of all the rotten performances !”
“I — I'm sorry, dear, but I–I can't keep my mind on
it somehow.”
At the end of the game she got up and said:
“You go on playing with Magdalen. I'll watch. I'd
rather. You settle up for me, Marston.” And she walked
to the window to look out while the other two continued
to play their threepenny points.
But there was no sign of the storm breaking. And the
dread still haunted Celia's mind that it was to break in the
future. She watched Magdalen from a distance, looking
extraordinarily beautiful, and the thought of her with a
sullied reputation was torture to her. It did not belong
to her. Celia was no prude, but in character as well as in
beauty Magdalen was a queen in her eyes. Her love for
her old school-fellow was almost idolatrous. She was jeal-
ous of her good name, and if Michael Adye or any man
should break her, the girl's hatred of him would be fierce
indeed. Was that going to happen? Would he, could he,
take advantage of her present unhappiness, and try to make
her — commonplace? Or would she be strong enough to
support the burden she had to carry ? This was the con-
Alict in Celia's mind. And although she was one of those
human souls who would hold out two helping hands to any
woman who was down, and utter a good, clean oath to
anyone who questioned her action, yet her upbringing in
a wholesome country rectory had left its mark upon her,
and made her venerate the woman who could resist. She
could back her horse, as we know. She was fond of her
game of cards, but not for love. She would have “five
bob” on a game of golf, or on the weather if there was
nothing else to bet about. But she was as “ straight as a
die.” Marston Gurney was rather a lucky fellow.
All these thoughts Celia kept to herself. Her husband
did not share them. And for the time being, however
great her anxiety, she resolved not to utter them to Magda-
len. She would have given the world, however, that night
to know what she had written to Michael Adye.
The bézique was over, and bedtime had come. Gurney


THE WARE CASE
167
handed Magdalen the fifty francs he had lost to her, and
strolled out to look at the night.
“You've done well, dear,” said Celia to Magdalen.
“ Yes, great cards. Only three more nights here, Celia.”
And there was a note of cheerfulness in the voice.
“ That's all. I'm sorry it's over — very.”
Magdalen was about to continue, and stopped herself
suddenly.
“ You were going to say something?”. asked Celia
eagerly, who saw that some thought had struck her.
“N-0-0. Er — nothing more seems to be said about
poor Eustace. I hope they'll leave us all alone now."
Her tone was a fervent one. The two went upstairs to
bed. Celia had hoped that it was of Michael Adye that
Magdalen was going to speak.
Jeny.


CHAPTER XVII
THE Monday came and went. The journey to England
T had been accomplished comfortably, and the party of
three had reached Bruton Street on the Wednesday even-
ing. Sir Hubert was out when they arrived, playing
Bridge at his club. The first thing Magdalen did when
Rate opened the front door was to go to the hall-table and
look eagerly at a pile of letters which awaited her. She
took them in her hand and replaced one after another care-
lessly as she examined the envelopes, until her eyes fell
upon a particular handwriting. Celia noticed immediately
that she had found what she was expecting. Magdalen
opened the letter quickly and read it through, but her ex-
pression was unreadable while she did so. She merely
turned to Rate calmly and said:
“Mr. Adye will be dining to-morrow.”
“ Very well, my lady. Sir Hubert has invited Sir Henry
Egerton, my lady, so that will make six altogether, my
lady."
A shadow immediately crossed her face, and that of Celia
and Gurney as well. All three were thinking the same —
that no sooner did Magdalen cross the threshold of her
house than every memory of the Wilbury tragedy was to
be revived. Few people go for a restful holiday without
being quickly harassed on their return, but this annoyance
was exceptionally impatient of a hearing. To have to meet
Sir Henry the very day after her arrival was certainly try-
ing to Magdalen. He was intimately associated with the
disaster, and, of course, he was very different from Michael
Adye. Magdalen, to put it mildly, thought it tactless of
her husband to invite him; but upon that point, after a
discreet question to the butler, her mind was set at rest.
Rate informed her that Sir Hubert told him a week ago
that Egerton was coming to dine upon the Thursday. And
168


THE WARE CASE
169
at that time Magdalen had not announced the date of her
return.
Holding Adye's letter in her hand, she instructed Rate
to have all the rest taken up to her room, and after a sym-
pathetic inquiry as to Mrs. Rate's health, which the butler
solemnly informed her was “as good as could be expected,”
she went upstairs for a short rest before dressing for din-
ner.
Gurney opened a letter of his own, and turned to Celia.
“I've got a letter from Adye, too,” he said.
“What about?”
“Don't know. But he wants me to look him up at the
Temple to-morrow afternoon. I didn't say anything to you
at the time, but to tell you the truth, I wrote to him from
the Engadine after it was arranged for us to come on here
with Lady Ware."
“But why?”
“Well, I felt restless, as I feel now, about myself. This
is a rotten position I'm filling — sort of secretary to Lady
Ware. I can't stick it,' Celia, any longer. A chap of my
age ought to try to do something better. It isn't fair to
you, and I feel all out of conceit with myself. I wouldn't
have gone abroad, only at that time I didn't think it would
be cricket to leave her in the lurch. So I wrote straight
to Adye to ask if he could possibly get me a job, or advise
me. I knew he'd give me the best advice of any one. So
I suppose this is what he wants to see me about. A grand
fellah, Adye.”
A footman came to Gurney for his keys, and he and his
wife went to dress.
Meanwhile Rate was bombarded with questions by his
inferiors concerning Lady Ware.
“'Ow does she look, Mr. Rate?”
“Got 'er colour back, Mr. Rate?”
“ Is she all in black, still ?”
“Not a bit 'o white anywhere?”
“That can't suit 'er, can it?”.
“No-0-0. A bit o'white's necessary like against the
skin, I say."
somethingy longer. Atary to Lady
feel all out


170
THE WARE CASE
“ 'As she got over it, Mr. Rate?”
“Is she quite 'erself like, Mr. Rate?”
“Her ladyship is unfeelingly like herself,” replied the
butler at his full six feet.
“Ah, I knew she'd get over it quick. No love lost there,
there wasn't.”
Richardson, the maid, was in her turn asked what she
thought of the “Hengerdine," but she expressed her dis-
appointment with the place:
“Nothing but mountains and nature. So dull. Not a
single cinematograph show anywhere."
Marston Gurney came down presently to the library, and
scribbled an answer to Michael Adye to say that he would
be with him at his chambers to-morrow afternoon. He
placed his letter for the post upon the hall-table. While
he did so the latchkey turned in the front door, and Sir
Hubert Ware appeared.
“Hullo, my dear Marston, how are you?” and he shook
his hand warmly.
There was no need for Gurney to inquire after his health.
He was looking remarkably well, as handsome as ever, and
with all his old spirits recovered.
" Come into my den a moment before I dress and tell me
your news,” he continued. “It's good to see your old mug
again."
Gurney followed him into the library and behaved per-
fectly. While away in Switzerland Celia had confided to
him Ware's treatment of Magdalen, and it had shocked
him. He found it difficult to reconcile it with the delight-
ful manner he had invariably extended to him, and the
misery of it made the young fellow more anxious than
ever to find some other occupation. But he was no fool,
and whatever his inward resentment might be, it was not
his business to interfere or to pretend to know anything.
Moreover, he nursed the youthful hope that the tragedy
through which the two had passed might conceivably be
the cause of reunion.
“ Er — how does my wife seem, Marston?”
“ Ever so much better. Celia and I were anxious about


THE WARE CASE
171
her at first, very, but gradually the air and the change did
their work, and during the last few days she's come along
like anything."
“And you, Sir Hubert? You look well."
“ Fit as possible. For the first few days it was pretty
trying — this horrible thing in the papers day after day,
you know. But all that's over now.”
“And I suppose they've let the matter drop?”
“Oh, must have. It was too ridiculous."
“Too damned cruel for Lady Ware their bringing in that
rotten verdict. I wish Tower Hill still existed."
“I know. Still, there it was. And I suppose the police
felt after that that they had to ferret about a bit. Rate's
wife wrote him a few weeks back that that champion idiot,
Inspector Watkin, had prowled about the premises on one
occasion, but he's not been again. I'm only surprised he
didn't arrest Mrs. Rate.” And he laughed heartily.
“ Poor old Rate! He'd have looked more corpse-like than
ever — what! Picture his vocabulary; eh?”.
"By the way, Sir Hubert, I may as well tell you that
with Lady Ware we've avoided the subject altogether."
“And she hasn't spoken of it?”
“No."
“I see.” There was a pause, and then Ware continued
somewhat diffidently: “Of course the shock was horrible at
the time, but it would be affectation to pretend that poor
Eustace's death hasn't altered things completely. I can't
play the humbug about that.” He looked at Gurney stead-
ily and proceeded: “ Weird as it may seem to you, Mars-
ton, I haven't got a debt in the world.”
“ But -"
“My wife has settled everything."
“She's paid them all?” There was admiration in Gur-
ney's voice.
“Every bob. At least, her solicitors are fixing things up
under her directions."
“ By God, she's fine!”.
“Yes,” replied Ware slowly. “Marston, it's perhaps a


172
THE WARE CASE
queer thing to talk about, but, though we haven't inflicted
it on other people, my wife and I haven't hit it off very
well."
Gurney regarded him a little awkwardly, but did not
speak.
“Well, no,” continued Ware. “Incompatibility of some-
thing or other. I don't know. But there it is. Per-
haps now, though, things may mend a bit and —”.
“Oh, I hope so," said the young fellow under his
breath.
“You'll stay on with me as my Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer, Marston ? "
“Well, I'm afraid not, Sir Hubert. I feel I ought "
“To be doing something better? Well, perhaps you're
right. Young man. Ambition and all that. Splendid fel-
lah! But you're not going to rush away from us at once,
eh?”
"Well, not for a week or two. Lady Ware pressed us
to stay, and”
“Good boy! We'll make the best of the time we can.
Of course we can't go out much yet, but a harmless round
or two of golf can't hurt anybody. I'm rather on my game
at present. Look here, old man, I'm playing to-morrow
with Charlie Winkworth at Sunningdale, catching the early
train. Join us and make it a three-ball. He won't mind.
He can have his fiver on the match with me just the same.
Do."
“I'm afraid I can't. Thanks very much. I have an ap-
pointment with Michael Adye.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. He once told me to go to him if I wanted advice.
So I'm going."
“And you'll find him keep his word. He's a nailer.”
Ware knew what he was talking about. He looked at his
watch, and crossed to the door with a light step.
"By the way, Marston, I've got Egerton dining with us
“Yes, I know, but don't you think it may bring it all back
to Lady Ware?”


174
THE WARE CASE
most of the forenoon, until she began to dress early for the
dinner at which Adye and Egerton were expected. Would
she be called very inhuman if upon that occasion she did
her hair and chose her gown with a little more care than
usual?
Certainly she would be censured by some. But they
might safely be placed in the category of negligible quanti-
ties, or classified with those who spend their lives in intol-
erant hyper-criticism of their fellow-creatures while pos-
sessing a capacity for perpetrating far worse delinquencies
themselves. Anyhow, she did dress carefully, and was
some minutes behind Celia, who was sitting alone in the
morning-room, neither Marston Gurney nor Ware having
yet returned, the one from his visit to Michael Adye and
the other from his golf.
It was a charming white room upon the entrance floor
in which the girl was sitting. A pair of exceedingly hand-
some mahogany doors with choice mouldings opened to the
oak hall, and the only other door in the room led straight
into the dining-room. A very pretty bow-shaped window
had been constructed. It projected outwards not far short
of the area railings. Some people declared that it was a
flagrant temptation to burglars; but Magdalén was one of
those who maintained, rightly or wrongly, that if a burglar
means to get in, he will do it no matter what obstacles he
encounters. The furniture was in harmony with its frame,
and consisted of some fine specimens of the Louis XV.
period. Among them a graceful grandfather clock of
French design was a prize possession. Beautiful pictures,
exquisitely framed, adorned the walls, the scheme of elec-
tric lighting was perfect, a gorgeous chandelier of old cut
crystal from the ceiling lending a striking finish to the room,
which, although it chiefly contained valuable objets d'art,
was not devoid of one or two of those inexpensive articles
which, left about untidily, give that lived-in appearance to
a house and make it habitable. She had only been home
twenty-four hours, but you felt that the room belonged to
Magdalen. It spelt wealth, but it was really comfortable.
And Celia was warming her toes at the blazing fire one`mo-


THE WARE CASE
175
ment, and strumming prettily upon a lovely piano the next,
while still she was speculating upon the outcome of Michael
Adye's approaching meeting with Magdalen and harbour-
ing her fears. Since that night in the Engadine she never
had been able to shake them off.
Before long, however, the folding doors opened and
Marston Gurney came into the room in day attire. He
greeted his young wife with an affectionate kiss, which she
reciprocated, though she pointed out to him that he was
“awfully late."
“ Sorry, Celia, but after I left Adye I looked in at the
club for a bit, and I wish I hadn't.”
“Why?”
“In the evening paper there I saw they won't let Eustace
alone. They're offering two hundred pounds reward to
any one who can give information leading to the arrest of
his supposed murderer.”
Celia uttered an indignant cry.
“Blackguardly, I call it," continued Gurney. “ I'm
afraid it'll distress Lady Ware awfully. It's the crass stu-
pidity of it that maddens me.”
“It's cruel,” exclaimed Celia. “ Directly she gets back
too!”
“And such a woman! Do you know she's paid every
single one of Sir Hubert's debts ? ”
“No!”
“A fact. Isn't she fine?”
“That's just like her, the darling."
“Yes, that's what I said this afternoon to Adye, only in
different words.”.
“And what did he say?” asked Celia, hiding her feeling
of anxiety.
“Why, he agreed, of course. What man alive
wouldn't? He said she was the finest character he'd ever
met."
The girl hesitated for a moment, and then continued :
" And, 'er — what about yourself and Mr. Adye, Mars-
ton?”
Gurney took her by the shoulders excitedly.


176
THE WARỂ ČASE
“Ah, I have a piece of news for you. Tremendous !
I'm going to strike out for myself. I am, by Jove!
“But how, dear? Tell me.”
“Well, I told him I wanted to be at something better.
See? In fact, I said I was getting desperate. And I am
desperate -"
At that moment Magdalen, now dressed for dinner, came
in from the hall and caught Gurney's last word.
“Desperate again, Marston?” she said mischievously, as
she came to the fire. “ No more ‘Aeroplanes,' I hope?”.
“No, no," replied Gurney laughingly. “ I've done with
that."
“Yes, we've permanently retired from the turf," joined
in Celia with enormous dignity.
" Joking apart, though,” continued Gurney, “I've regis-
tered an oath never to make another bet.”
“Oh, have you? I've heard that tale before.” And
Magdalen laughed sceptically.
“I've made my pile, you see, Lady Ware."
“So have I,” joined in Celia with great pride.
“And it's safe, by Jove!” went on Gurney enthusiastic-
ally. “The ring can't get it back in this case. I've invested
every penny of the ten thousand, and settled it on Celia.
She also can't touch it without the consent of trustees. I've
approved the deed this very day.”
Magdalen took both his hands in hers and shook them
warmly.
“You're an absolute brick,” she said.
“He's a genius,” exclaimed Celia.
“ And when I tell you, Lady Ware, that Michael Adye
is one of the trustees, you'll have an easy mind, I know."
“ Michael !” whispered Magdalen.
“Yes. And that leads me to something else. I've been
telling Celia we must make our plans now for a roof of
our own."
Magdalen's face fell, while the young fellow continued :
“You see, Lady Ware, I've done the er — very little I
can do for you, and I want to try to go ahead now a bit on
my own. I - I'm sure you'll understand -_-"


THE WARE CASE
177
“Of course, Marston, you're right - as right as can be,
but - but I daren't think what — what this house will be
like without you and Celia.”
“But we shall often be here," protested the girl gently.
“Yes, dear, I know. That's so different, though. But
there, I'm being as selfish as I possibly could be.”
“You see,” continued Gurney, “I can manage now to af-
ford to wait for a practice at the Bar -_"
“At the Bar!” exclaimed Celia excitedly.
“Yes, and Adye's going to be awfully kind —”
“How?” inquired Magdalen, looking at him quickly.
“Well, I've seen him to-day at the Temple, and he's fixed
it all up with his brother. His brother is going to take me
into his chambers."
Celia waved her handkerchief with delight.
“ How good of him!” said Magdalen.
“Ah, he's a nailer. The brother, you know, has a very
big Common Law practice. I shall see his work and all
that sort of thing. And Michael Adye has asked him to
look after me.”
“ I'm awfully glad, Marston," said Magdalen earnestly.
“You'll get on splendidly, I'm certain."
“Well, with Adye's help I shall get the chance anyhow.
I'll tell you what he said, Celia. He said, “My dear chap,
I'll do everything I can for you, not only for your own
sake, but for your charming little wife's sake as well.' And
he sent his love to you, Celia.”
Magdalen regarded him somewhat anxiously.
“ Er — Michael's not forgot he's dining with us to-night,
I hope."
“Oh, no, rather not. He was going home to Carlos Place
to dress directly he'd got through his work. By Jove! I
must hurry into my things too.”
He approached the folding doors, and turned as he opened
them.
“No one but Adye and Egerton coming, is there?”
“That's all," answered Magdalen. “It's — it's the first
time we shall have met since —”
There was a pause, and Magdalen's gaze wandered round


178
THE WARE CASE
the room uneasily. She then raised her voice as Gurney
was passing out into the hall:
“Marston, you might turn up this centre light. The
switch is just outside. It's rather gloomy in here."
Gurney closed the doors after him, and the beautiful old
cut-glass chandelier was lit up, and gave a warm glow to
the room.
Magdalen approached the doors, and Celia detected, she
thought, an excited restlessness in her movements.
“This is splendid news about Marston,” she said. “I'm
so glad.”
“Yes, isn't it?” replied Celia. “It only has one awful
side to it.”
Magdalen came to her and asked:
“ What's that?"
“ It means our leaving you. I-I can't bear that
thought.”
Magdalen took hold of her chin, and looked at her with
a smile.
“ You're a great dear. But it's right - just as it should be."
And she sat down thoughtfully on a sofa.
“But how sweet of Mr. Adye to take such an interest !”.
said Celia.
“Yes. He took a great fancy to you both down at Wil-
bury — at that awful time. And — and then he knew I
was anxious about your future, and —”.
She broke off suddenly, and looked out in front of her
with that strange, wistful expression which was so familiar
to Celia.
The girl regarded her for some moments, and then sat
down beside her, taking one of her hands in hers.
“What is it, Magda ?”
“Nothing — nothing." And Magdalen's voice sank to a
whisper.
“Yes, there is something. Tell me, won't you?”
“Nothing that's new, Celia. It's as old as the hills with
me.”
“Do tell me."


THE WARE CASE
179
Magdalen stiffened her body as she sat forward and
raised her voice.
“ Michael. At every turn I seem to meet him connected
someone else's I care for. It's always an action of kind-
ness, of sympathy, of affection. And try as I may, to take
it all for granted, I utterly fail to do so. Oh, yes, I do.
Every single resolution I make totters to the ground. And
I find myself weakening - drifting."
“ Magda!”
“Yes, yes, yes, seeking his advice first in one thing,
then in another, till I'm face to face with the fact that I'm
making excuses for seeking it — in everything — yes, in
everything, Celia! I'm finding him indispensable !” She
spoke with a vehemence which Celia had not heard before.
And the girl was alarmed. Every thought she had in
Switzerland rushed in upon her again. She felt then that
she had cause for fear. Now she knew it. Her forebod-
ings were correct. There was a real danger. She would
try to make her friend avoid it if she could. But was it
possible for her to succeed? She turned towards Magda-
len.
“ But you don't know what you're saying,” she protested
stoutly.
Magdalen lowered her voice to a calm level and said:
“He loves me, and I know it. I love him, and he knows
it.”
“Magda!”
"Oh, he's told me nothing in words, nor I him. We
neither of us need do that. But it's there - there! If he
keeps away from me I know the reason. If I avoid him
he guesses why, as I suppose he guesses my object in ask-
ing him here to-night. I wrote from Switzerland."
“Why have you asked him — why?”
An evident determination had seized hold of the beauti-
ful woman. There was no shaking her from that.
" Because two months have passed without my seeing
him, and I've found them long. There's my open, frank


180
THE WARE CASE
confession, which I would make to no other living creature
in the world.”
“Not— to him?” asked Celia anxiously.
" I've not lost my head — yet. I've only lost my heart.”
She rose from the sofa and went over to the fire.
“Wouldn't it, then, be wiser," continued the girl, “if
you and he —?”
“Never met? Out of sight out of — ?' An exploded
notion that, my dear.”
Celia tried another tack.
“ I'm not so sure," she said lightly. “I know when I
didn't see Marston I wasn't nearly so helpless as when I
did.”
“Ah, Celia, your story's very different from mine. It
always had a happy ending at your command. Mine's one
that -"
"Must never have an end, Magda,” said Celia passion-
ately.
“Yet ninety-nine women out of a hundred, placed as I
am, would —"
“Yes, but there's the one remaining one who wouldn't.
And you are that one!”
“What would you do if I did?” asked Magdalen very
quietly.
“I?"
“ Yes."
“I should be very sorry."
There was a pause of some moments.
“Disappointed?” and Magdalen put the question in a
still lower tone.
“Very, Magda,” replied Celia with an effort.
“And join the rest of my friends in cutting me?”
“That's not very kind of you."
“I only ask the question."
“Which you oughtn't to ask me. You know perfectly
well that nothing you did could ever change me towards
you — nothing. But I should feel the blows that others
dealt you — terribly.”
The girl felt deeply every word she said. The carpet


THE WARE CASE
181
was quite blurred as she looked down at it, and there was
a lift of her shoulder which showed clearly to Magdalen
that she was struggling hard to master some of her emo-
tion. Celia loved her even more than she had dreamed
of. She walked quietly behind the sofa on which the little
taut body was sitting and bent down towards her, taking
her head in her hands and kissing her lovingly.
“Don't — don't be afraid, Celia,” she said. “I shan't
give them the chance of dealing their blows.” She then
drew herself up bravely. “ I'm all right. I shan't yield.”
Celia looked up at her with her eyes full of tears.
“Be the excuse ever so mighty ? ” she asked with a
smile.
And Magda re-echoed the words confidently:
“Be the excuse ever so mighty; and if you knew what
I'd been through to-day at Bragsons' office you'd think I
had it with a vengeance.”
One of the footmen then entered the room, and laid the
evening papers upon the table carefully. And by way of
natural conversation in the presence of a servant, who is
never deceived, Celia said:
“ Magda, you must read the book I got to-day."
“What is it? Somebody's Reminiscences ? ”
And Magdalen sat down at the piano.
“How did you know?” asked Celia.
“ Because it rains Reminiscences.”
“I think, though, I prefer fiction — imagination," con-
tinued the girl.
"Imagination, my dear, is the hall-mark of Rem-
iniscences.”
. By this time the footman, as an excuse to remain, had
poked the fire, and observing Celia seat herself with the
evening paper, and Magdalen playing a Nocturne by
Chopin, realized that he was to be deprived of any tit-bit
for the servants' hall, and retired with his customary stiff-
By the fire, anad Magda
ness.
Upon the closing of the door Celia frowned perceptibly
as she read her paper, and Magdalen stopped playing in the
middle of a bar.


182
THE WARE CASE
“ What's the matter, Celia ?”
“Oh - er — nothing."
“Yes there is. What is it?”
And she hurried anxiously to the girl's side, who, seeing
that there was no escape from it, told the truth.
“There's something in the paper - about poor Eustace,"
she whispered.
“What?” Magdalen took the paper from the girl and
read out the commencement of a paragraph: “ The police
offer a reward of two hundred pounds to any one able
to "
“Oh-h!” she cried violently. “It's unending, this hor-
ror! Why, in heaven's name, can't they let it rest? Why
can't they spare us? They never can discover anything
now, even if there was anything to discover. And time
has proved more and more the cruelty of that verdict. It
was wicked - monstrous !”.
“It was very cruel to you, dear.”
“I think it was rather cruel,” answered Magdalen with
scorn, “but the world seldom thinks of the living.”


CHAPTER XVIII
M AGDALEN Aung the paper aside and seated herself
VI in the corner of a sofa by the fireplace. Her foot
tapped the ground impatiently, and her brows were puck-
ered with anger. Celia felt that words were useless, and
sat down thoughtfully in a chair not far from her, when
Ware in his golfing clothes entered from the hall.
“Ah, you've dressed early," he said in his gayest tone.
“ Well, we've had a grand day. Charlie Winkworth was in
great form, but I was in better. A couple of rounds, a
fiver on each, and I won both. Do you know, at the six-
teenth I made the shot of my life! I'd hooked my drive
into the rough and —”
He stopped upon noticing Magdalen's troubled look, and
turned to Celia.
“Am I - er — in the way? Anything wrong?”
" Magdalen is distressed, Sir Hubert, at something in
to-night's paper about Eustace.”
“Ah, yes, this reward,” he replied gently. “I saw it in
the train. I'm sorry — very."
“ Something must be done to end this,” said Magdalen
determinedly.
“Yes, but what?”
“I don't know," she answered distractedly, as she rose to
her feet and paced the room, “and I don't care, but some-
thing must be done — anything. It's unendurable, this.
Aren't we ever to be allowed to live like ordinary private
individuals? Nothing but this everlasting - publicity -
publicity.”
Her outburst was cut short by Rate, who came in
through the dining-room door.
“ The flowers have just come from Wilbury, my lady.
Does your ladyship wish them to be arranged on the dinner-
table?"
“Oh, yes, yes, on the dinner-table,” she answered testily.
183


184
THE WARE CASE
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but I've also received a let-
ter from my wife enclosed with the flowers. She tells me,
my lady, that the police was at Wilbury yesterday draggin'
the lake again.”
Magdalen uttered an exclamation of horror, and Celia
hastened to her side.
“ Again?” asked Ware.
“Yes, Sir Hubert.”
“But what for?”
“It's only the police that can tell that, Sir Hubert. I
don't think they know themselves, Sir Hubert. That's what
the wife says in her letter, addin' in a postscript: 'The
police is baffled, and when the police is baffled, the police is
bafiled.'”
“But is your wife sure they were the police?" asked Ware.
“ Quite sure, Sir Hubert. If it had been a mere country
rumour I should have paid no attention to it, Sir Hubert.
But when the wife's reliable, which she frequently is, I
attach considerable importance to her conversation. She
spoke with the police, Sir Hubert. Inspector Watkin him-
self conducted the operations."
“And I suppose, as usual, made a general mess of things
and discovered nothing ?”
“ The wife swears to 'is reticence, Sir Hubert. He went
into the house too, Sir Hubert.”
“ This is outrageous,” cried Magdalen. .
“Ah, but I gave him permission, I remember now, before
I left,” explained Ware.
“ Then it was a great mistake to do so," she replied.
“Are we to be denied all privacy by these people?”
“But what object could Inspector Watkin have in going
into the house?” asked Ware.
“I don't suppose he knew 'imself, Sir Hubert. But he
went from room to room, looking round with one of 'is men.
But the wife stuck close to 'em, which the wife was quick
enough to see they didn't want, until they reached the
library. There, however, she had to leave them, Sir Hu-
bert, and they remained some time alone.”
“In the library?” asked Ware perplexedly.


THE WARE CASE
185
the There was's do, Rate ad been
“But the wife felt quite comfortable about that, Sir Hu-
bert, as all the cigars 'ad been removed.”
“ That will do, Rate," said Magdalen.
There was finality in her tone, and the butler retreated to
the dining-room.
“I tell you, this must end," she continued. “It's perse-
cution. I shall —!”.
“ Still, they have to do their duty, I suppose," urged
Ware quietly.
“ Their duty! If there was any sense in it, perhaps so,
and one would be glad to give them every help, though
whatever we did never could alter the horrible tragedy of it
all. But when one knows they are going on simply because
of that iniquitous verdict, it's unbearable.”
“You know, I hope, Magdalen, how deeply I've sympa-
thized with your feelings all through this. But there's one
person we owe it all to.”
“Who's that?”
“Paterson. It all came from your insistence to overlook
that brawling of his once in the village when he was had up
before the bench. If we had got rid of the fellow then, we
should have been spared all this. He never could have
given that ridiculous evidence about seeing a man bending
over a punt half a mile off. And really, I can't believe the
doctor's evidence could have settled it alone.”
“But there it is, and we can't get away from it,” ex-
claimed Magdalen excitedly. “ I'm glad now you asked Sir
Henry Egerton to dine to-night. Directly he arrives I shall
beg him to do all he can to prevent this going on.”
The telephone upon the writing-table rang, and Ware
went to answer the call while Magdalen took Celia by the
arm, and whispered to her fearfully:
“ That's from Michael to say he can't come. I - I'm
certain of it.”
She waited anxiously while her husband spoke into the
instrument: “ Halloa ? — Is anyone there? — Yes, yes,
what number do you want? Yes, you're on the right one.
This is Sir Hubert Ware's house — it's Sir Hubert Ware
speaking.”


THE WARE CASE . 187
“Not for a moment,” she replied very quietly. “I have
something to say to you, Hubert."
“Will it take long? I can get into my things in ten
minutes, but Adye will probably be punctual.”
“I can be as brief as you wish."
“Oh, I don't want to bustle you, Magda, and you know
what a pleasure it always is to hear your voice —"
" I'm afraid that tone is a little out of tune with what I
have to say. I merely wish to tell you of a determination
I've come to."
There was an exceptional levelness in her voice. It showed
distinctly that she meant every word she said. Ware felt it
to be deadly.
“ Sounds portentously serious," he said airily.
“I have decided that you and I must live apart.”
“I was under the impression we had to come to that
understanding in the now almost dim and distant past.”
"I mean under separate roofs, and for good and all."
“But why?" And there was a note of misgiving in his
question.
“Because it would be happier for both of us. At any
rate, it would be happier for me."
“ But what — ?”
"Oh, you have nothing to fear as regards money. A
regular income in keeping with your position is to be pro-
vided for you out of my capital. And there will be only one
necessary condition.”
“And that is?”
“That you don't exceed it. I shall do no more than I
agree to do. I have arranged about the deed to-day."
“And the — amount of the income, Magdalen ? "
“I prefer for the moment not to name. With my lack of
knowledge in such matters I might understate it or overstate
it. In any event, I've not acted ungenerously towards you.
In fact, I've tried to err in the other direction.”
“And - the capital?"
“Will be safely protected as to be impossible -_-"
“For me to touch?”
“Precisely."


188
THE WARE CASE
Şuane sudden? Why, vou; and in the
She rose from her chair, and with all her natural dignity
walked to the fire. His eyes followed her anxiously, but he
did not stir. She had not spoken in anger. Every word was
uttered deliberately. Every word was final.
“ Magdalen, why this sudden decision?” The question
was put regretfully.
"Sudden!” she exclaimed tearfully. “Sudden! Do you
think it's sudden? Why, over and over again I've battled
with the intention to leave you; and in the end, like a weak
fool, have borne any treatment you've chosen to insult me
with. I've endured it, and suffered it, and — bent under it
for three years. Yes, three years. Three years hacked out
of my life! Nothing, absolutely nothing to a man, no doubt,
but to a young woman — priceless. I'm only twenty-five.
You forgot that, I dare say. So do I sometimes."
There was a depth of feeling in the last four words, but
she mastered it, and continued to plead her cause.
“Of course, I ought not to have submitted for a moment
when I first found you out. I see that now clearly enough.
It's as plain to me as anything could possibly be. But you
know why I did. It was what thousands of women in the
same plight would have done. It was little Philip alone who
made me stay."
“ Philip!” murmured Ware almost inaudibly.
“ Yes. A mother is easily held captive by her child."
“But, Magdalen,” continued Ware quietly, “after he died
you —”
“Remained on? I know that. What did it matter to me
at such a time whether I went or whether I stayed ? Nothing
mattered then. Each day dragged by like the one before,
without a streak of light in it, and the tale of your faithless-
ness to me became monotonous and expected. I—I got
used to it; so used to it that it needed something new to
- to bring me to life again. That happened two months ago
when your ruin came - a ruin brought about by the utter
worthlessness of your life, a ruin without a shadow of an
excuse, undeserving of a shred of pity."
" I'm not defending it,” said the man helplessly.
“Even then, though - even then I decided to stay with


190
THE WARE CASE
“ You mean ?".
“This terrible end of Eustace. Can we ever get away
from it? Never, it seems to me."
“ It's awful, of course, but time, you know -—"
“ Time! Time! It's two months now, and just as one
thought the horror of it all was passing, out it bursts again
to haunt one!”
“Ah, well, perhaps after this reward there will be an end
of it."
“ It will never end !"
She rose from her chair, and again paced the room rest-
lessly.
Ware waited until she came close to his side.
“On the face of it, then,” he said, “ isn't this a time when,
if we both did our best, we might help each other? Can't
we start afresh, Magda, you and I? Can't I try to make
arnends for — what's gone before? Can't we patch it up
pick up the broken pieces?”
She looked at him steadily and said:
“ The broken pieces are strewn everywhere. Some are
lost for good. Others are beyond repair.”
A long silence followed, which at length was broken by a
loud knock upon the front door. Both of them heard it,
and Ware hurried to the window, and looked out from be-
hind the blind. “Michael,” he said as he returned to her.
“He's before his time, confound it !” But Magdalen was
glad. “You've never spoken so determinedly before, Mag-
dalen,” continued Ware hurriedly.
“I've never felt so determined. I—I don't want to be
cruel, but all sympathy between us is dead, and it would
take far more than words from you to revive it."
“What could I do to revive it?” he cried.
“ You could do nothing. It would need a great something
from outside to bring that about.”
The handle of the folding doors turned, and Rate advanced
into the room to make his announcement:
“Mr. Adye.”


CHAPTER XIX
M ICHAEL ADYE came in in his customary easy way.
I Ware was not far from the doors when he entered,
and greeted him first. Adye then approached the fire and
took Magdalen's hand warmly in his. The lack of words
on her part was compensated by Ware's volubility.
“Well, how are you, Adye?”
" Fairly fit, thanks, except for the east wind and an Eng-
lish November," answered the K.C., who then turned towards
his hostess. “I'm becoming painfully conscious of it, Mag-
dalen. Ha! ha!”
“What nonsense!” she exclaimed with a laugh, while she
seated herself upon a settee by the fire.
“I don't believe you," said Ware.
“ Word of honour. Why, if I have to cross-examine a
witness when the wind's in the west I'm a perfect lamb with
him; but if it's in the east I give him hell.”
The Wares laughed with him, and it would have taken an
uncommonly keen observer to imagine that that husband and
wife but a moment before had passed through an interview
which had settled finally, irrevocably, their future existence.
Adye, indeed, was thinking how perfect Magdalen was look-
ing, and how well she seemed after all she had gone through.
Even a question was rushing through his brain: “ Are these
two people happier together than they have been ? Has the
misery they've endured formed an olive branch ?”
"Well, I'll go and get these things off,” said Ware.
“ Shan't be more than ten minutes."
“Been playing golf, eh?” said Adye. “What luck some
people have! There have I been stuck in court all day."
“Oh, one moment, Hubert," interrupted Magdalen. “ You
could tell me this. That transfer Michael witnessed for me
down at Wilbury -"
Ware halted suddenly by the doors which he had opened,
ment het ver to im and it would
had pasting that that have taken an
191


192
THE WARE CASE
and Adye passed his hand casually across his face to hide
his surprise.
“The dividend is paid, I believe, in January, isn't it?”
she asked.
“Er — yes, in January," replied Ware.
“Well, it will appear in my book as something different,
won't it?”
“How do you mean?” asked Adye, with a face like a
mask.
“Well, the thing was changed, wasn't it? But I can't
remember exactly whether it was from Great Western De-
bentures to Great Western Ordinary, or the other way about.
I'm such an idiot at these things, and all the financial trans-
actions I've been bothered with since -- since poor Eustace's
death have muddled me dreadfully. Which was it?”
Adye seized the difficulty at once. He remembered faith-
fully his promise to Ware never to tell his wife. He knew
equally well that no transfer had occurred. There was only
one thing, therefore, to do to save the situation. He had
to lie.
“I can remember," he said calmly, while Ware hung upon
his words. “It was from Ordinary to Debentures, wasn't it,
Ware?”
“Yes, certainly," was Ware's answer, which he gave with
his back turned to the others."
“ The dividend will be larger, won't it?" asked Magdalen.
“Well, I'm not so sure," replied Adye. “And you mustn't
mind if it isn't, my friend. So long as it doesn't shrivel,
there's much nowadays to be thankful for."
“I shan't be long," said Ware, who left to dress, and
closed the doors after him with an indescribable relief. As
he mounted the stairs his feeling of gratitude to Adye was
unspeakable, and he realized that never in his life could he
have tackled a difficulty in such a masterly way.
Adye sat down on the sofa opposite Magdalen. It was the
first moment they had been alone since the day of the trag-
edy, and both of them remembered vividly what had passed
between them on that afternoon. That interview was in-
delibly stamped upon their minds. It was there for ever.


THE WARE CASE
193
worland the Engadine skilfully it mighoth a feeling crewed
It is not surprising, therefore, that at this first renewed
meeting there should be with them both a feeling of em-
barrassment, however skilfully it might be concealed.
“And the Engadine has done you all the good in the
world,” were Adye's first words. “You were wise to go.”
“Yes, the air and the quiet. It was restful,” she replied
rather wearily.
“Of course it was. Many a time I've gone there, fagged
out after a hard term and a strenuous time in the House,
and three weeks of that air have done marvels for me. It's
like champagne."
Magdalen was unable to make small talk. She looked
across at Adye suddenly.
“ Michael," she said quietly, “this is the last time you will
dine with my husband and me.”
“Why, what have I done?” he asked with a laugh.
“We're — we're going to separate."
he asked:
“Finally?"
“Finally."
He rose from the sofa and walked about the room thought-
fully for some time. He then stopped.
“I understand," he said quietly.
“Two months ago," Magdalen proceeded, “ before every-
thing was suddenly changed for me, I — I was ready, as I
told you, to stay on to help him, but now it's all so different.”
“ You mean you can afford to —?”.
" Arrange for him to have everything in accordance with
his position. I intend to behave liberally to him.”
“That you're sure to do. It - it wouldn't be you to act
otherwise. But as an old legal hand as well as an old friend
I would suggest, if I may, the advisability of making no
settlement of capital which —".
“You need have no fear of that. It will be a question of
income solely."
“I see.”
Another pause came. An uncomfortable sensation of em-
barrassment laid hold of Adye. Here he was, he thought,


194
THE WARE CASE
in a man's house accepting his hospitality while tendering
advice of this nature. A feeling of shame attacked him.
He ought to be on neutral ground.
" Please forgive my talking as I did,” he said. “ As a
guest here I couldn't be guilty of grosser taste, and I feel
a— You have no party to-night, of course?”.
“Only yourself and the Gurneys."
“Yes — well — as I shouldn't be upsetting your table,
wouldn't it be better if I — if some telephone message had
just come through, calling me away on business, or — ?”
“No, no, Mike, I -".
Her words came out spontaneously without thought, and
he went to her side.
“I think,” he said, “it would be better for me to —”
"No— don't do that. I- I'm nervous to-night — appre-
hensive, somehow, and I should like you to stay — just to
steady me. Silly of me, isn't it? But I feel ——”.
She shivered violently. Then, after controlling herself,
she looked up at him and said:
“Mike, I've known you the requisite number of years, I
think. Put some coal on, like an angel, will you?”
Adye went to the grate. He was thankful to her for the
request. It gave him something to do. He placed two or
three lumps on the fire very deliberately. While his back
was turned to her, and nobody else could see, Magdalen
regarded him with a great love and tenderness. She won-
dered how those two months of existence away from him
had been passed. The flames of the big fire caught the fresh
coal quickly. It crackled gaily. Adye remained in the same
position for some time, watching the dancing light. Once
or twice he took up the tongs and humoured it by changing
the position of the new lumps. The process amused him,
and it took time. No doubt the others would join them
shortly, and they would go into dinner. There would be
relief in that. A general conversation could be regulated
easily, and his feelings could be disguised. The information
which Magdalen had imparted to him impressed him keenly.
The inevitableness of it had been plain to him for a long
time. But now, when the news was given to him, there


THE WARE CASE
195
was a suddenness in it. He had not expected to hear it at
that moment. And if he had been asked to summarize his
thoughts he could not have done so. He had only one set-
tled conviction in his mind — that Magdalen was right in
her decision. Yet from his point of view there was a general
hopelessness in it all. What was the future going to bring
her? Here was a young woman of five-and-twenty, endowed
with great beauty and nobility of character, who had been
badly used. She must continue to suffer from it. A legal
separation was no real means of escape. It freed her of
a presence, nothing more. She deserved life, and she could
not obtain it. Through no fault of her own that was to be
denied her. As a case, it was a case in a hundred to him.
But this was no case to him. He loved her.
An uncomfortable silence between the two had lasted for
some time, and Adye had taken up the poker. He now
tapped the fire aimlessly, and the red-hot coals took the
shape of faces which laughed at him, and as the flames leapt
up the chimney they seemed to bear away remorselessly all
his hopes and dreams. Nothing remained behind.
"Ah, that's lovely,” said Magdalen at length, “I felt hor-
ribly cold before.”
“ It's this beastly east wind," he said with a laugh, without
looking round, while he dug at the fire more strenuously,
" that's what it is. It changes one's point of view of every
mortal thing, and entirely smothers one's sense of humour.
Why, even old Wrench this morning — he couldn't raise a
smile.”
“ Mr. Justice Wrench ?”.
“ Yes, I had a case before him. He was a complete meta-
morphosis. He was really. He became quite a respectable,
dignified figure, and never once tried to crack a single rotten
judicial joke.”
“ You don't say so," laughed out Magdalen.
Adye turned towards her, waving the poker in the air.
“ And when I tell you,” he said, “ that it was a theatrical
case with the court crammed with reporters, you'll realize
how far answerable an east wind can be.”
“And what a blessing in disguise.”


196
THE WARE CASE
wa! But hedalen su great kithat?
chair" sokindness a steat kinand"7
“Yes; well, there's something in that. The judge has
become fairly terrible with his jokes lately. Still, it does
show what an east wind can do, doesn't it?”
Adye felt that he had come to the end of his tattle, and
laid down the poker in the fender. A further pause fol-
lowed, and embarrassment would but feebly describe the
feelings of the two. He looked at her for a moment, the
underhung jaw asserted itself, and he crossed a little awk-
wardly to the other side of the room.
“But here we are, gabbling on about all sorts of subjects,"
said Magdalen suddenly, “and I'm forgetting altogether to
thank you for a great kindness you've done to-day.”
“A kindness? I? What?” said Adye, as he sat in a
chair some distance off.
“To young Marston Gurney.”
“Oh, that – that's nothing," was the modest reply. ?
“ It's a great deal, and I'm so grateful to you on little
Celia's account.”
“ Marston ought to do all right at the Bar. My brother,
Dick, is delighted to have him as a pupil.”
“ But,” said Magdalen, thoughtfully, “a pupil has a fee to
pay — a hundred guineas, isn't it?”
“As a rule, yes. But this is a matter of love with Dick.
He's doing it to oblige me.”
Magdalen hesitated for a moment and bit her lips.
“How good of you!” she murmured as she looked away.
“No, nonsense," replied Adye, with a laugh, “Dick's the
chap who's doing the kindness, if it is a kindness.”
“Yes, but because you asked him to. And you only asked
him because you know how anxious I am for everything to
go well with that child.”
“Well — er — I hadn't exactly forgotten that, Magdalen,
but I really believe Dick has got hold of a thundering good,
useful fellah. Splendid what he did with his win on “ Aero-
plane.' He's made of the right stuff, Marston.”
They had talked rapidly on this subject, which was a relief
to both of them. But a halt had to come, and it came now.
The topic was exhausted. Another had to be found by one
of them.


THE WARE CASE
197
“Er — do you intend to live on in this house,” continued
Adye after some seconds, “after you and your husband
have ?”
“Oh, yes."
“And to keep Wilbury?”
“No, no," was the downright answer. “Don't let us talk
of Wilbury, Mike. It's a nightmare to me.”
"Ah, I'm sorry," said the K.C., as he rose from his chair.
“ It was idiotic of me.”
“Not that I can ever escape from it. I- I suppose
you've seen the evening papers.”
“ Yes.” And he sat by her side. “ I'm so sorry for
you —”
“It's persecution, Michael.”
“ Still, you know, the police have to do their duty.”
“But surely they must see the futility of a search after a
purely imaginary person.”
"Perhaps, though, they don't think the person purely
imaginary. In fact, I know they don't.”
“How ? "
“From Egerton. I saw him a few days ago, and he says
the Director of Public Prosecutions is rather strong about it.”
“Oh, but it's preposterous. Sir Henry was to have dined
with us to-night.”
“ So he told me. Isn't he coming?"
“No, unfortunately. He's just telephoned that he's pre-
vented. I was going to beg him to use his influence to have
no further steps taken in the matter. If they only knew the
pain all this is to me! What view does Sir Henry take him-
self?"
“Well, for all your sakes he would have gladly seen the
matter dropped, but he's rather inclined to agree with the
Director that the coroner's jury were right.”
“Oh-h! But how can he?" asked Magdalen hotly, as
she rose from the sofa. “Don't you think it monstrous ? "
Adye did not answer, but knit his brows seriously. To
differ from this woman upon any subject did not appeal to
him. But in this matter it was hateful to him. He would
not cause her pain for all the world.


200
THE WARE CASE
somehow. Surely, Michael, if some one in a high position
gave his orders to Inspector Watkin he would have to be
obeyed.”
“ Certainly.”
“ Then Sir Henry must do it. He's Chief of the Criminal
Investigation Department. Surely he could do it."
“He would carry great weight, of course,” said Adye,
“ but probably the Director of Public Prosecutions would
have a word to say. Sir George is not an easy man to
move."
“Do you know him, Mike?" asked Magdalen.
“Oh, yes.”
“ Then could you possibly put it to him? ”
“I might.”
“I should be so grateful if you would. Tell him the
misery that all this is causing us — the horrible publicity -
everything, and that we ourselves are convinced of the
wickedness of that verdict. Will you ?”.
“Of course I will. I would do anything to spare you all
this suffering. But, as I said just now, the Director holds a
strongish view about poor Eustace.”
“What? Does he think it was murder?" asked Ware.
“ Yes.”
“Ah, that makes it difficult," Ware rejoined. “But what
I can't get over is the question of motive. What conceiv-
able object, according to the evidence, could there possibly
be in killing Eustace; where's the motive for it?”
“ That's often the crux," answered Adye.
“ Still, here robbery is out of the question - isn't it?"
“ Perhaps they don't think so."
“ Well, then they ought to think so."
“But of course," agreed Magdalen.
“ They found plenty of money in the poor boy's pockets -
gold and silver. And then his watch and chain,"continued
Ware.
“Yes, but does any one know how much money Eustace
had on him before he went down to the lake?” asked Adye.
“Well, no —"
“That's straining it dreadfully," argued Magdalen.


: THE WARE CASE
201
“I dare say it is. But they have to hunt everywhere,
worse luck," Adye proceeded. “ Assuming there was a
blackguard there, he might, for all we know, have taken
two or three pounds, and left the rest as a 'blind.' I don't
say it was so, but it just possibly might have been.”
“I confess that never occurred to me,” said Ware.
“But of course not,” protested Magdalen. “And I don't
think it really occurred to you, Mike.”
“Well, then,” Ware went on, “if we eliminate that mo-
tive, what is there? Eustace hadn't an enemy in the world.
And there wasn't a living being except Magdalen and myself
to whom his death meant anything."
“That's it," interrupted Magdalen vehemently. "And
you know what the world is. It's not exactly a charitable
institution.”
Adye turned sharply towards her in horror.
“Oh, but you can't think that people —!”.
“ Haven't I heard them in other cases ? Is ours so very
different? That's what I'm going through, and I can't help
“Ha, but you carply towards
it.”
A dead silence fell upon the three. It was broken at last
by Ware.
“There's only one way to treat that sort of thing," he said
-“ with contempt."
At that moment Gurney and Celia joined them from the
hall, and Rate at the dining-room door announced funereally
that dinner was served.
Celia almost ran to Adye, and took his hand warmly.
“ Thank you so much, Mr. Adye, for your kindness to
Marston,” she said.
“Oh, don't talk of that,” replied the K.C.
“But I'll tell you what your brother will find him."
“What?"
“A genius!”
“Oh, shut it, Celia,” said Gurney.
“Why, what's going to happen to you, Marston ? " Ware
inquired.
“He's going to my brother's chambers," was Adye's reply.
"Splendid !"


202
THE WARE CASE
And Ware looked at Adye. “Will you go in first with
my wife?” he said. “And, Marston, will you take yours.”
Gurney regarded his host with some surprise, and Adye,
whose arm Magdalen had just taken, turned round with an
effort of gaiety.
“What! husband and wife together!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, why not?” said Ware with a forced laugh. “Let
them be unconventional."
The two couples passed through the doorway to the dining-
room. Ware stood still for a moment, and forgot that Rate
was still waiting for him by the door. He passed his hand
across his forehead without disarranging his carefully
brushed hair, and uttered a suspicion of a sigh. There was
a look of solitude about the man. Did he feel solitary ?
Was he meditating that this was to be the last dinner he
would share with his wife? Or what was he thinking ?
“Her ladyship’s at the table, Sir Hubert,” ventured Rate
very quietly.
“Oh, right.”
And with a hitch at the lapels of his faultlessly cut dress
coat, and a slight tug at the ends of his necktie, he joined
the others quickly at the table, while Rate closed the door
after him, and proceeded to hand the soup-plates, or to su-
perintend the handing of them by the footmen — which of
the two does not matter seriously.


CHAPTER XX
beingAdye aen a famthe circumsible. A
M AGDALEN and her husband sat at either end of the
M beautiful, old mahogany table, Ware's back being
turned to the door which led into the morning-room whence
the party had just come. Gurney sat upon his right alone,
and upon the other side were Adye and Celia, the former
being upon Magdalen's immediate right, and the latter be-
tween Adye and Ware.
If it had been a family gathering in the strict sense of the
word, conversation in the circumstances would have been de-
cidedly meagre - in fact, impossible. As it was, the position
of the five was peculiar. No one as yet, with the exception of
Michael Adye, was acquainted with the final determination
of Magdalen in regard to her future life, and Ware was
ignorant of Adye's knowledge of it. Accordingly both the
Gurneys, who upon their own account were in good spirits
that evening over Marston's prospects, and Ware were able
to touch upon various topics quite naturally. Adye, too, on
his part, was a man of the world, and with a successful con-
cealment of his own thoughts and his gifts as a listener,
affected a lively interest in all that was said, while no one
could have passed the remotest adverse criticism upon Mag-
dalen's capacity of hostess.
Conversation darted from one subject to another inconse-
quently, as it is wont to do; and when it touched upon the
Engadine, Adye maintained that the railway had spoilt it.
“Still, you get there all the quicker," was Gurney's opinion.
" And a very comfortable journey,” agreed Magdalen.
“Oh, yes, I know all that,” the K.C. agreed. “But I
liked the old drive in the diligence or the extra-post. There's
a bit of the laudator temporis acti about me, I'm afraid.”
“What's that?” inquired Celia laughingly.
“ Ask Marston. He's a classical scholar. But there's one
thing they can't alter - the mountains,” continued Adye.
... 203


204
THE WARE CASE
"But what about the Jungfrau?” interrupted Ware.
“They've run a railway up that, haven't they?”
“ Yes, that's true, the vandals,” Adye replied. “Noth-
ing's sacred now — property or mountains. It's all the same.
A loathsome age.”
Champagne was at that moment poured into the K.C.'s
glass.
“ '99 Clicquot,” said Ware. “Let's make the most of it.
It's the last bottle we shall crack here."
Adye looked a little uncomfortable at the remark, and
thought it somewhat strange of Ware to make it. Magda-
len felt the same; and the result was a slight pause. But
there was in Ware's mind no meaning attaching to his words.
He did not, in fact, consider their appositeness when he ut-
tered them.
"No," he continued innocently, “it's the last of the lot.
And I shan't try to get any more."
Adye then saw that Ware's observation was quite innocu-
ous, and referred to nothing more momentous than the wine.
“Difficult to beat,” he said, “but prohibitive now, of
course."
He then turned to Celia and raised his glass to her:
“ Pump Court!” he exclaimed.
“Pump Court? What's that?" asked Celia laughingly.
“My brother's chambers.”
“ Where Marston is going?”
“ Certainly."
“What an awful address !”
The two barristers laughed at Celia, and Gurney leaned
across the table in the direction of the K.C.
“Mr. Adye —” he began.
“ Whom are you addressing?” was Adye's sharp question.
If there had been no twinkle in his eye it would have been
alarming.
“Why-er”
"No more ‘Mister' if you please, Marston. There's
your first lesson.” And he turned to Magdalen. “That's
our etiquette at the Bar, no matter how great the disparity
of age.”


THE WARE CASE
205
“Is that so? I never knew that,” she said.
“Oh, yes, an invariable rule.”
“But suppose you're Attorney-General in the next Gover-
ment and are knighted ? ” asked Ware.
“Well, then he can Sir Michael me as much as he likes.
But what were you going to say, Marston?”.
"Oh, nothing important,” replied Gurney. "I was only
wondering how you get all your work done. When do you
begin ? "
“ Four in the morning?"
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Celia. “Will Marston have
to do that?”
“Not just yet," was Gurney's amused answer.
“No, but some day, I hope he will," continued Adye.
“I don't!” protested Celia.
“Yes, I turn out every morning at four, and light my own
fire and make my own tea."
“Of course, if you do it yourself it's all right,” said Celia.
“But I know perfectly well I should have to light Marston's
fire for him.”
Thus the talk at the table ambled on pleasantly enough.
It had its gaps, no doubt, but they were not allowed by any
of the company to be of long duration. They discussed the
perennial autumn session; the chances of a General Election;
the certainty of the triumphant return of Adye's party to
power; the formation of the new government, in which it was
universally acknowledged that he could hold almost any post
he chose to ask for, though it was an open secret amongst
his friends that, since the death a month ago of his colleague,
Sir Henry Fowlett, he would infinitely prefer the Attorney-
Generalship to any other, even without Cabinet rank; the
latest strike, which Magdalen calculated was the fifty-second
in twelve months, or, in other words, one a week; the Gen-
eral Labour Unrest; and the newest phase of Syndicalism,
over which Gurney, with the privilege of youth on his side
and with the aid of the Clicquot, became dogmatic, and
maintained, with all the weight of his twenty-five years and
his impending return to the Bar, that what the country
needed was the death of the party system and the birth of a


THE WARE CASE
2
207
duty, to put everything in order. Being a well-trained serv-
ant she did it thoroughly. She bunched up the crushed
cushions upon the chairs and sofas, tidied the grate, carefully
folded the evening paper, which Madgalen had thrown aside
on reading the “reward” paragraph, and extinguished the
various electric lamps. Seeing that everything was in order,
she then passed through the folding-doors, which she closed
after her, and turned off the switch which regulated the cut-
glass chandelier. This plunged the morning-room into dark-
ness except for the fire-glow.
Shortly afterwards, as the maid was about to descend to
the basement, a bell rang. One of the footmen came out of
the dining-room to the hall at that instant, and the maid, be-
fore her disappearance downstairs, informed him that there
was some one at the front door.
A few moments later the folding doors of the morning-
room were opened quietly by the same footman, who at once
lighted the electric lamp upon the piano. He then turned
round somewhat nervously and faced the doors, through
which Sir Henry Egerton entered slowly, wearing his day
clothes and carrying his tall hat.
“Will you wait here, Sir Henry, and I'll tell her ladyship,”
said the footman.
"No, stay,” replied Egerton peremptorily and in a half
whisper.
“Very well, Sir Henry."
Egerton placed his hat upon a small table, and came to
the centre of the room in serious thought.
“I don't wish her ladyship to be told I'm here,” he said
gravely.
“Very well, Sir Henry.” And the footman caught Eger-
ton's hushed tone.
“Her ladyship and Sir Hubert are at dinner, you say?"
And Egerton accompanied his question by an indication of
the door which led to the dining-room.
“Yes, Sir Henry.”
“It's not a party, I think?”.
“ Only Mr. Adye and Mr. and Mrs. Gurney, Sir Henry."
Egerton hesitated for some moments.


208
THE WARE CASE
"Is there anywhere I can write a note?” he then asked.
“You'll find paper there, Sir Henry.” And the footman
walked to Magdalen's writing-table, where he turned up an-
other light.
Egerton followed him very slowly and sat down. He took
a pen in his hand, and sat staring at the paper in front of
him. As the light from the lamp fell upon his face the foot-
man noticed its pallor.
“I'll give you a little more light, Sir Henry," he said fear-
fully as he passed through the doors and lighted the chan-
delier from the switch outside, only to return to Egerton im-
mediately afterwards, and to find him in the same posi-
tion.
There was a moment's silence while the footman waited,
and Egerton looked round.
“Would you just close those doors,” he almost whispered.
The footman did so, and remained near them with his
eyes riveted upon the set face of the Chief of the Criminal
Investigation Department.
Egerton then appeared suddenly to carry out a resolution,
and wrote a note hurriedly which he placed in an envelope.
With that he rose from the chair slowly and walked very
deliberately to the middle of the room, sticking down the en-
velope as he went.
“I want you,” he said in the same hushed tone, " to give
this note quietly to Sir Hubert.”
“ Yes, Sir Henry.” And the footman took the envelope
from him.
“Without disturbing any one else, and without mention-
ing that I am here — even in answer to any question. You
understand?"
The note of command in his voice left no room for any
misunderstanding, and the footman answered nervously:
“Perfectly, Sir Henry."
The next moment the footman passed into the dining-
room with the note, and shut the door after him.
Sir Henry Egerton remained motionless for a few seconds.
An air of deep concern and anxiety hung over him. He then
walked to the folding-doors, which he opened cautiously,


THE WARE CASE
209
and looked towards the front entrance to the house. Ap-
parently satisfied by what he saw, he reclosed the doors, and,
stroking his chin in serious thought, came again to the middle
of the room. He had only to wait a moment before Ware
entered quickly from the dining-room.
“Ssh!” whispered Egerton with his finger to his lips,
while with his other hand he signalled silently to Ware to
shut the door behind him.
Ware did so at once and came to the other's side.
“What's up, Egerton ?” he asked quietly as he extended
his hand, which Egerton retained. “I thought you couldn't
come. Anything — wrong?”.
"I'm afraid there is,” replied the other with a frown as
he released Ware's hand. “Your wife doesn't know I'm
here?”
“No. You asked me in your note not to mention your
name. She merely thinks someone's come on important
business."
“ I'm glad.”
“But what the devil's the matter? You look like a
thunder-cloud."
There was a second's pause before Egerton answered
gravely:
“I have a task before me the like of which I've never had
to perform.”
“I'm awfully sorry, Egerton. Can I help you in any
way?"
“ You can, Ware," was the steady reply.
“Then fire away.”
Egerton placed both hands upon Ware's shoulders, and
looked into his eyes.
“ You can help me by trying all you know how to keep
your nerve,” he said, “and by believing that never in my life
have I suffered as I'm suffering now."
“Well, I'll do anything I can. Tell me."
Egerton did not remove his hands from Ware's shoulders
as he began his answer with a great effort.
“This evening,” he said slowly, “a warrant has been is-
sued for — your arrest.”


THE WARE CASE
211
"If it wasn't for the horror of it,” Ware proceeded, “ the
whole thing would be too childish.”
“What — what? Tell me," she entreated.
“ And that's the way you and I must look at it.”
“Tell me! Tell me!”
“I — I'm accused of the — murder - of your brother,
Eustace.”
Magdalen put her hand quickly over her mouth and stifled
a cry of agony. And then during the pause which followed
her eyes looked with withering scorn at Egerton, and she
drew herself up with dignity to her full height as she said
to him slowly:
“How — dare — you?”.
"It isn't I,” protested Egerton feelingly. “And I must
beg you to believe, Lady Ware, that I feel most deeply for
you.”
“Feel for me! Feel for me!".
“Most terribly. The duties of my work have never placed
me in such an awful position. And it's because of my —
friendship for you that I am here.”
"Because of it! You're laughing at me! I dare say it's
very easy to do that.”
“I only came at all to — to try to prepare you”— and he
turned to Ware, who was staring dazedly in front of him
'to try to make it less grievous to bear.”
“ But it's cruel, wicked, devilish,” interrupted Magdalen.
“Why, you could have prevented this !”
“I, Lady Ware?”
“Yes, by telling the truth of what occurred on that after-
noon. You were there! You were there - in the house at
the very 1.1 was in tine quibblenant woman.and I te
“ Well, I was in the garden,” replied Egerton.
“Oh, that's a fine quibble the law can make use of, I
suppose," protested the indignant woman. “But this is not
the moment for quibbles, Sir Henry, and I resent them.
My husband at the time my brother met his death was in
the library with me and Mr. Adye. He then joined you
upon the croquet lawn. You — you know that perfectly
well. Hubert, speak, for God's sake!”


· CHAPTER XXI
TROM the dining-room Magdalen had distinctly heard
T her husband's raised voice during his terrible inter-
view with Egerton. She had no notion who the visitor was
at that strange hour, and she relied upon Ware's speedy
return to the table. As that was not forthcoming she became
apprehensive and silent — why, she could not have told —
and she strained her ears to listen. For a time the subdued
voices of the two men travelled through the closed door from
the morning-room, and the time passed. Then there came
the loud, sharp cry from Ware which caused her to spring
to her feet and to ascertain the cause. The appalling sequel
to her departure was unknown to Adye and the Gurneys,
who remained in their places waiting. The delay seemed
to them interminable. Each one of the three became anx-
ious. Something unusual had undoubtedly occurred. They
could only wonder what. No one spoke, and from behind
the door they could hear the three voices. The words were
inaudible, but Magdalen's tone was to them clearly one of
anguish.
Something untoward had happened. And Adye's love for
the woman swept him away. Whatever it was, he might be
able to help her. It was a cry of distress, and he could
endure it no longer. Probably it was no affair of his, but he
could not help that. They could call him a meddler, or
anything else. That was unimportant to him if he could
come to her aid. There was no other living being, he felt,
who understood her as he did. At any rate, he could but ask
if he could help. In any case, while there was but a flimsy
bit of wood dividing him from the woman he loved and who
was suffering, he was not the man to be thwarted by it. He
would have broken it in had it been necessary. And he
rose determinedly to his feet, with Celia's eyes fixed upon
him.
213


THE WARE CASE
215
“It's inhuman, this,” she cried, “and it shan't go unpun-
ished so long as there is breath in my body. Tell me,
Michael, what can Hubert do? What can I do? Tell me!”
“Nothing can be done yet,” he answered tenderly.
“Oh, but something must be done! We must find some-
thing that can be done!”
“ It sounds a heartless thing to say, Magdalen, but we can
only wait events.”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! How long are we to wait? What
are we to wait for?”.
The tortured woman was inconsolable. It was useless to
try to comfort her. What comfort in the world could there
be for any one in a like position? The crash was over-
powering. And though, to the relief of the others, her
physical strength had returned to her, her mental agony
was unutterable. She stood up suddenly, and with a big,
sweeping movement of her arms thrust every one away
from her. Then she paced the room up and down for
minutes by the clock like a caged animal. At one moment
she seemed to forget the other three in the room, at the next
she looked as if she wished they were gone.
Adye then took Celia by the arm, and said very quietly to
her and Gurney: “ Leave me alone with her for a while.
Wait in the library. I'll call you at once if there's any need."
“Very well,” replied Celia, who then passed out into the
hall with her husband. Magdalen saw the folding-doors
close, and uttered a cry of relief. She would have been
unable to say why, but now she was alone with the one
person she had grown to lean upon. He was the personifica-
tion of strength and goodness to her. He might say some-
thing to ease her mind. He might make a suggestion. If
any one on the earth could comfort her it was he. There
was no other living soul who could.
He stood quite still waiting for her to choose the time to
speak. She had only to command him. He was her slave.
But she continued to pace the room frantically, and coming
to his side by the sofa near the fire she stopped suddenly.
“What can I do? ” she cried. “Tell me what I can do,
Michael, for God's sake!”


216
THE WARE CASE
Seeing that she was becoming beyond control he seized
hold of both her hands almost roughly.
“You must keep calm, or you can do nothing. Sit down!”
The note of stern command in his voice had an instan-
taneous effect upon her. With her hands still gripped by his
she did what she was ordered, and Adye sat down by her.
Already she was comforted to some extent. She was con-
scious of the power of the man, and, being essentially a
feminine woman, it appealed to her.
“I - I'm sorry, Michael, if I'm difficult,” she said, “I-
I'll try to be good.”
“ You can't make anything better by being otherwise,” he
answered tenderly. “And we need all our wits about us,
you know.”
"But it's a fiendish thing, this! Think what Hubert must
be suffering! To be accused of such a frightful thing
is —”
"I know, but everything must be done to make it bearable.
It will all come right, you'll see."
“Ah, do you think it will?” And she clung to his hand
helplessly.
“Of course.”
“Oh, I wish now I hadn't said to him what I did just
before you came.”
“ What was that?"
“When I told him we must separate for ever."
“ You must banish all that from your mind, Magdalen.
It's outside the case entirely."
"Still, I can't help wishing it. He would have been less
lonely to-night if I had only waited. But I didn't know what
was going to happen.”
“How could you have known? Besides, you may depend
upon one thing — that at this moment nothing but this ghastly
charge is in his mind. Think of nothing else, I beg of you,
Magdalen. As to the other matter, if I may speak freely, no
man alive knows better than your husband how finely you
have treated him — except one."
“ Who?"
“Myself.”


THE WARE CASE
217.
There was silence for some moments. Then Magdalen was
the first to speak.
“Why have they done this terrible thing, Michael?”
“They must suppose they have some evidence, Magdalen,”
was the grave answer.
“But, in the name of heaven, what evidence could there
be?”
"I wish I could think. I can't. They must imagine, I
presume, that they've found some to support the motive.”
“The motive! The motive! We always have that to
haunt us. But there has to be more than a motive, Michael.
You know, as I know, that this charge is an impossible one.
And there's the cruelty of it."
“How do you mean, Magdalen?”
"Why, upon that awful day Hubert was with you and me
in the library until he joined the others on the croquet lawn."
“ That's perfectly true," exclaimed Adye.
“And it was then – it must have been that Eustace --"
“Quite right. Keep your mind on that point entirely.
You're splendidly helpful now."
He was giving her all the encouragement she so greatly
needed. He had no other thought but that of helping her
to bear this terrible thing, and he realized that his only hope
of success lay in the endeavour to make her cut away all the
fringe of the story, and at all costs to prevent her mind from
dwelling upon any remorse or regrets which at this moment
she was prone to entertain, however unreasonably. But it was
a herculean task. The human being is rare who in the hour
of grief does not ponder upon what might have been or
might not have been had a different course been pursued.
And the philosophy of “What's done cannot be undone ” is
precious hard to follow. Adye's difficulty, however, did not
end there. There was much in his mind that for Magdalen's
much love his miculty to everyodial emot
sake he, could not give utterance to. First and foremost
there was his knowledge as an experienced counsel that no
warrant in a case of this nature would have been applied for
without evidence, and, indeed, without strong evidence. He
knew perfectly well that the department of the Director of
Public Prosecutions would not move in the matter without


218
THE WARE CASE
he was someon the croquet long aft
reasonable cause, and that there must be something more
behind the institution of criminal proceedings than mere idle
suspicion. What that something was they could only wait
and learn. At the same time, what Magdalen had just said
was true. There was the fact that upon that fateful after-
noon Ware had been with the others, and was present with
them when the boy went to bathe. He stayed behind in the
house. Then Magdalen, he remembered, suggested to her
husband that he was somewhat neglecting Sir Henry Egerton,
whom he then joined upon the croquet lawn, both the Gur-
neys being there, and subsequently, not long afterwards, the
entire party returned to the house from the garden, and the
news of the catastrophe was brought to Ware in their pres-
ence. At the first blush it appeared to him to be an over-
whelming piece of evidence in Ware's favour, and it was
difficult for him to see how any prosecution could get over it.
As this last thought passed through his mind a look of
hopefulness crossed his face, and he walked quickly to the
other side of the room.
“ Something good has occurred to you, Michael?” asked
Magdalen excitedly.
" I was only working out what you said. It's incontesta-
ble. Now let us think.”
The underhung jaw became very prominent as he brought
all his concentration of mind to bear, and his eyes glistened.
“Bragsons are your ordinary solicitors, aren't they ?” he
asked.
“Yes.”
“No good in a matter of this kind. You must have Charles
Bodsell.”
“ Any one you advise, Michael.”
“I'll tell you what I'll do. We mustn't use the telephone
for this. I know Arthur Bragson well. Directly I leave you
I'll go to his house to see him. I'll tell him what has hap-
pened, and say that you wish him to communicate at once
with Charles Bodsell. He'll gladly fall in with your wish.
His is merely a family business. He'd never undertake a
criminal case."
“Ą criminal case!” cried Magdalen,


THE WARE CASE
219
“Now, now, try not to think of that,” he said, returning
quickly to her side. “You're awfully good, but you must
continue to be so. See? First of all I'll ring up Arthur
Bragson to see if he's in.”
With that he went promptly to the telephone upon the
writing-table. He got the number quickly.
“Is that Mr. Bragson speaking? - Right! I'm Mr. Adye.
Shall you be in in half an hour's time if I drop in to see
you? — Very important.— Good. In about half an hour,
then. Good-bye.”
He returned to Magdalen's side, and again sat down by
her.
“So far all right, eh?”
“How good you are!” and she laid a hand upon his arm
and burst into tears.
“Now, now," he said half scoldingly, while he took her by
the shoulders as he would a child, “ that won't do, you know.
If you cry you'll knock all the thoughts out of my head,
and I shall be done.” And he tried very hard to laugh.
She raised her face, and her eyes looked steadily into his.
The grief and the beauty in them he could not trust himself
to gaze upon too long. He turned his head away. To see
a woman cry is one of the worst things that can happen to
a man. What must this man's suffering have been to look
upon such tears?
“ Don't cry,” he besought her gently.
“I- I'm sorry. Forgive me. I — I'm better now."
She dried her eyes bravely and with an effort to collect
her thoughts she said suddenly:
“ Michael, there - there's another point that's just struck
me.” .
“What's that?”
“Why, on that very day Hubert had written to the Ger-
man family in Hanover about Eustace going there the next
Monday. That came out at the inquest.”
“Yes, that's a good point!” exclaimed Adye excitedly.
“ Did the letter go ?”
"I can't say. But Rate might know. Ring the bell,
Michael, will you ?”


220
THE WARE CASE
Adye quickly pressed the bell, and Rate, as may be im-
agined in the circumstances, was not slow to answer it.
“Rate," began Magdalen haltingly.
“Yes, my lady.” And there was a note of genuine feeling
in his voice.
“Will — will you ask him, Michael?”
Adye was glad of the request. He felt he could put the
question without “ leading " the butler in any way, and that
possibly he might obtain a clear answer one way or the other.
“Rate, I want you to take your mind back as clearly as
you can to the day of Mr. Eustace's death. Do you think
you can remember everything you did quite distinctly?”.
“I shall never forget anything I did on that day, sir."
“ Very well then; had you charge of any letters for the
post ? "
“Yes, sir, Mr. Gurney gave me several.”
“ Can you recollect if anything about them struck you at
all?”
“Well, sir, Mr. Gurney gave me a packet.”
“Whose handwriting was upon the envelopes ?”
“ Mr. Gurney's, sir. But they were letters of Sir Hubert's.
Mr. Gurney said so, sir.”
“And were they placed in the official letter-box?”
“Yes, sir. I posted them myself. And I remember a
little later there was another, an odd one. That was in Sir
Hubert's writing, sir.”
“ In Sir Hubert's writing? Are you sure?”
“Quite, sir. I noticed it particularly, because it was ad-
dressed to Germany."
“You're certain of that?” asked Adye eagerly.
“ Positive, sir. I remember the name of the place, too,
sir — Hanover.”
“And you posted it?"
“I did, sir.”
" Thank you, Rate.”
The butler saw that his services were no longer required,
and retired from the room with the conviction, from Adye's
demeanour, that his information had been decidedly helpful.


THE WARE CASE
221
When he had closed the folding-doors Adye brought down
his hand upon his knee excitedly, and said:
“That letter is a vital piece of evidence for your husband,
Magdalen. Without any delay we must communicate with
the family at Hanover, and find out if they've kept it. If
they have, the prosecution will have no small difficulty in
meeting it."
“But if they haven't kept it!” exclaimed Magdalen.
“Even then your husband will remember having written it.
Rate can speak to having posted it, and it's more than likely
that Marston Gurney, as Sir Hubert's secretary, was aware
of its contents.”
A look of real pleasure and relief crossed Magdalen's face
for the first time. It was not lost upon Adye, and he took
her hand warmly.
“You see, my dear friend, everything's going well — ev-
erything. I told you it would. We've only got to keep up
our peckers, you know. And we've only just started. Let
them bring any case they like. It would have to be an over-
whelming one to beat your husband's.”
“But, Michael, how long will it last? What exactly has
got to occur?”
Adye hesitated. He then regarded her fixedly. “ Look
here, Magdalen,” he said steadily, “you've got to be the
great, brave soul you've always been, as I know you will be.
It can only be a big ordeal. It can't be anything else. But
you'll come through it. I know you will.”
“But whatever my suffering,” she replied, " it can be as
nothing compared with his. Think of that! Just think of
it!”
“ And you'll help him to bear it.”
She could not utter a word for some time. She then
turned to him and asked fearfully: “How long will it take,
Michael? How long ?”
“I can't say. But it must take time. You must make up
your mind to that. First of all there must be the police
court proceedings, which will begin to-morrow. Then, no
doubt, as in every other case, there will be remand after re-


222
THE WARE CASE
mand. The length of it all must depend upon the amount of
evidence."
“Of course the magistrate could dismiss the case, couldn't
he?” asked Magdalen hopefully.
Adye looked at her seriously.
“ I'm going to be perfectly frank, Magdalen. It would be
cruel to be anything else. But such a course in a grave case
of this kind is unlikely. You must make up your mind for
it to go to trial.”
"Oh, but that means months of agony and suspense!” she
cried.
“ I'm afraid so."
“What is it now? — November. It might not be before
January ! ”
" It could hardly be earlier.”
“Oh, but, Michael, it's unending. It's torture!"
“ This is poor comfort, I know, but if it was America it
would take a year.”
The agonized woman without a word threw up her hands
in despair, and Adye was quick to seize hold of them.
“You mustn't give way. You shan't!” he exclaimed with
all the force at his command.
“But think of him!”
“ It is of you I'm thinking now — of you alone. Your
husband will bear this like any other man in the same posi-
tion. If the guilty can come through it the innocent can.
You must remember that. And if I know anything of your
husband he will stand it better than most. But with you it's
different. Your health is everything —!”
“My health! As if it mattered to a soul!”
“ It matters to me, Magdalen! It is everything to me!
I'm not going to have you broken by this! You've had to
endure much — far beyond your share, and you're going to
endure this as no woman before you has endured it! For my
sake- !"
His voice rang out fervently. He was failing to measure
his words. He was being carried away by his overpowering
love for the woman. He had looked on at her misery in the
past, and it had maddened him. And now he was watching


CHAPTER XXII
LJE hastened to the Gurneys, who were waiting in the
11 library, and sent Celia to Magdalen after giving a per-
emptory order that at all costs her strength and courage must
be sustained. The next moment, with his eyes upon the
clock, he was helped on with his astrakhan coat by Rate, and
the K.C., with Marston Gurney, who asked if he might
accompany him as far as the house, was travelling at top
speed in a taxi-cab to Devonshire Place to keep his appoint-
ment with Mr. Arthur Bragson.
On the way naturally nothing but the terrible charge was
spoken of, and the only one of the two to speak was Gurney.
He expressed his indignation in no uncertain terms, and his
sympathy with Ware was unbounded, as it was, of course,
with Magdalen. Adye allowed him to run on, but did not
listen. He was far too deep in his own thoughts. Any
question which the young fellow chanced to ask him went
quite unheeded. When they were not far from the solicitor's
house Gurney was expatiating, not only upon the improba-
bility, but the impossibility of Sir Hubert Ware's guilt as
demonstrated conclusively by the evidence given at the in-
quest. And he wondered how any such charge could have
come to be formulated.
A concise reply came from Adye, who was sitting well
back in the cab.“ Inspector Watkin, of course,” he said.
back in the ca That fool!" dragged that lake. We may fee-
"Wath or no fool, he searched theed his discov
"Fool or no fool, he's dragged that lake again, and he's
apparently more or less searched the house. We may feel
tolerably certain that he communicated his discovery, what-
ever it was, to headquarters, where coupling it with what they
doubtless already knew there, it was considered sufficiently
strong to initiate a prosecution. There's my diagnosis for
what it's worth.”
“But what did they already know, Adye?”
224


THE WARE CASE
225
“Ware's financial difficulties.”
“Of course that's cruel luck for him, poor chap! But he
makes no bones about it. Why, only last evening when we
got back from Switzerland he told me himself that he couldn't
be humbug enough to pretend that Eustace's death had not
altered his position entirely."
“ Did he?”
“ Yes, and I admired his frankness. He spoke of his relief
at not owing a penny in the world.”
“How did he make that out?”.
“Why, Lady Ware has arranged through her solicitors for
the payment of every one of them. He told me so.”
Adye turned his head sharply towards him, and paused
before he spoke.
“Ah, Marston," he then said, “there's a woman, if you
like !”
“ By Jove! I should think so indeed. She didn't men-
tion that to you?”
“Not a word,” replied the K.C. “It's just one of those
things she would leave out.”
They then stopped at Mr. Bragson's door, and before he
got out Adye asked Gurney if he remembered any letter from
Ware to Hanover being sent that afternoon.
“ Certainly, I do," answered the other. “Sir Hubert spoke
of it at the inquest. He had written it himself, and earlier
in the day had asked me if it would do. It was to ask the
family to look after Eustace, and all that. I remember, too,
I couldn't make the envelope stick down. So I sealed it with
Sir Hubert's ring. I recollect it perfectly."
“ Good. It's a big point for Ware."
" By Jove, it is! It ought to be overwhelming with the
evidence that on that afternoon he was with you and Lady
Ware in the library, and directly afterwards he joined us at
croquet. By the way, Adye, I suppose you'll go into the box
as well as Lady Ware to speak to that.”
"I can't," answered the K.C., “ I'm going to defend him.”
Gurney had not time to show his delight. The next in-
stant Adye had jumped out of the taxi-cab and rung the
front-door bell. He then hurriedly returned to Gurney, and


226
THE WARE CASE
asked him what he proposed to do since he might be some
time with Arthur Bragson. Gurney replied that he would
wait if the other did not mind; and the bell by then having
been answered, Adye entered the house. The young fellow's
choice was a very natural one. He was, of course, exceed-
ingly close to the whole tragedy, and apart from that a certain
sense of nervous excitement in him was pardonable enough
in the circumstances.
Additionally he entertained, perhaps unconsciously, a feel-
ing of some self-importance in possessing the friendship of
the most brilliant figure at the Bar, who was about to under-
take the defence in what undoubtedly would be an exception-
ally sensational case.
As he waited in the taxi-cab, nervously lighting one
cigarette after another, many thoughts rushed through his
mind. Firstly, he reviewed in order the events of that
ghastly afternoon at Wilbury, his conversation through the
telephone with Sir Hubert's stockbroker, his interview with
Eustace Ede, who showed his terror of the wasps, Lady
Ware's communication to him and Celia that his post of secre-
tary would have to be abandoned, Sir Hubert's merry game
of tennis with Sir Henry Egerton, who, as Chief of the Crim-
inal Investigation Department, must now be linked up with
the prosecution of his friend, his own bathe in the grim lake
not very long before Eustace, his taking Sir Hubert's signet
ring to seal the letter to Germany, and his talk to him in the
heat of the moment of the unfairness of the will of Lady
Ware's father, his extraordinary win on “ Aeroplane," which
had enabled him to alter his whole career, and upon the top
of it that awful entrance of Sir Hubert to the library when
he could barely announce the calamity.
Then he pondered over the wickedness of the charge, and
wondered how any sane man could have made it. It was
outrageous. It was farcical. If Adye was right in fixing
the responsibility upon Inspector Watkin, the day, at any rate,
was near at hand when that individual would be a discred-
ited officer. He would be able to enjoy a little cheap notoriety
for the time being, but there would be an appalling Nemesis
for the blockhead. Nevertheless it was a heavy price which


228
THE WARE CASE
scanty white hair, he did not cultivate large whiskers with a
shaved upper lip, he did not wear spectacles, his dress was not
antediluvian, and even in his study at his private house there
was a total absence of the prehistoric black bag. On the
contrary, he was an exceedingly well-groomed man of forty-
five, as perfectly dressed as Sir Hubert Ware himself. His
thick hair was carefully brushed in the modern fashion; he
wore a smartly trimmed moustache, and when Adye walked
into the room he found him enjoying an excellent Upmann
cigar and a whisky and soda in an easy-chair by a first-rate
fire.
While the servant was removing Adye's coat Arthur Brag-
son offered his friend a whisky and soda which he accepted
gladly, together with one of the Upmann cigars. The servant
mixed the drink, and Adye sat down by the fire with the
lighted cigar between his teeth, and his lower jaw thrust well
forward. Bragson knew how set the face could look when
something serious was the matter, and that was the expression
which Adye was now wearing.
Directly the servant withdrew the solicitor returned to his
chair and waited calmly for Adye to speak.
“ Bragson, within the last hour," began the K.C., “a terri-
ble thing has happened. They have arrested Ware for the
murder of Eustace Ede.”
The solicitor puffed out from his mouth a ring of smoke
quite composedly.
Adye regarded his unruffled demeanour with some aston-
ishment.
“Ah," was Bragson's only exclamation, which was uttered
with remarkable tranquillity.
“ Had you heard it already?”
“ No."
“But aren't you rather staggered by it — surprised ?”
“ I'm afraid not. But then nothing surprises me.”
“ I've only this moment left poor Lady Ware."
“ Poor soul! How is she?"
“Oh, how can she be? Apart from her grief, she's hor-
rified and indignant.”
“At the charge being made against her husband ? "


THE WARE CASE
229
“Why, yes."
“If anything could surprise me, that might, Adye.”
“What do you mean?” asked the K.C., regarding him
fixedly.
“Well, I can understand her grief, poor creature! But
I'm hanged if I can understand her indignation. She knows
him, and I should have thought she would have realized —”
“ That he might be capable of murder, Bragson?”
“Or of anything else.”
“ She's very far from realizing that," continued Adye.
“ She's horror-stricken, and will combat such a charge against
her husband to the last breath in her body.”
“ Women are wonderful creatures."
“She's begged me to defend him."
“ And are you going to?”
“ Yes. That is chiefly why I'm here. I wanted to see you
without delay.”
“Well, of course," proceeded the solicitor calmly, “I can't
be in it. It's out of my line altogether, and, besides, a man
must have his heart in his case. Mine wouldn't be in this
one. I don't mind saying to you what I mean - hanging
would be much too merciful an end for Hubert Ware."
“But, Bragson, do you, by any chance, know anything about
the merits of this particular case?”
“ Nothing at all.”
“Well then —” And Adye broke off with a tone of re-
proach in his voice.
"I know nothing whatever about it except from the account
of the inquest.”
“But you're not going to tell me that you'd arrest Ware
upon that, much less hang him!”
“ That's not what I mean. But, Adye, since you're going
to defend him, it may become necessary for you to know
certain things, so that I shan't be betraying any professional
confidence. And I can tell you this of my own knowledge -
Ware's a wrong 'un.”
No one knew this in one sense more surely than Adye
himself, but he meant to keep his own counsel upon that
point. He was right in thinking that it was impossible for


232
THE WARE CASE
Adye spoke these words very quietly and slowly, and there
was a latent fighting power behind them which Bragson could
not mistake. The solicitor then strolled to the table, and
mixed for himself another whisky and soda, while Adye
remained motionless in his chair, with his cigar let out, en-
grossed in his own secret thoughts. Bragson, in his cold-
blooded way, had unfolded a fresh point of view, and he
little knew how it struck home.
“Of course," said the solicitor on returning to his chair,
“as regards Ware I admit I'm a prejudiced devil. I know
what nobody else' knows, and the popularity of the brute
sickens me. But, Adye, putting all prejudice aside —”
“Now you're talking."
“Well, putting prejudice aside, you don't believe he did
it, eh?”
“Not for a moment,” was the other's emphatic answer.
“Well, now, that's interesting. And if he didn't, it's a bit
rough to hope he'll hang — what?”
“That's how I'm inclined to regard it,” replied Adye sar-
castically.
“ Splendid! But you know what I mean just now?"
“Of course. You'd hang most people if you had your
way, Bragson - politicians into the bargain, eh?” And the
solicitor laughed heartily.
“But what have the Crown got hold of, I wonder?” he
asked.
“Ah!” exclaimed the K.C. gravely.
“Because, of course, they don't launch these prosecutions
for fun."
“Not as a rule. But they make their mistakes sometimes
like other people. Anyhow I shall hear before we're many
hours older. Meanwhile, knowing this sort of thing is out
of your line, I advised Lady Ware to intrust it to Charles
Bodsell."
“ The best.” .
“Well, then, do you mind getting on to him at his flat,
and asking him if he can run round to see me at Carlos
Place in er — twenty minutes' time? It would be better for
it to come from you.”


THE WARE CASE
233
“Right."
Bragson went out to the hall to telephone as suggested,
while Adye remained alone in the study. He had not to
wait long, and during those five short minutes, in whatever
way he tried to approach this case, in which he was convinced
of his client's innocence, there always returned to him Brag-
son's point of view. It stood out bold and clear-cut before
him. The solicitor little dreamed when he planned out
Magdalen's future, pondered Adye, how real his imaginary
“good chap” was, who, in a certain contingency, would do
his utmost to make that woman happy. He was very far
from guessing that he sat only six feet away, and that, what-
ever the development of the case for the prosecution, he
would defend that man as he had never defended any other
in all his experience at the Bar, and so, perhaps, uncage his
Blue Bird for ever. He had given his word to the woman he
loved, and whatever her husband might have been, however
great his contempt for him, he had made up his mind, at all
events, to the injustice of this terrible accusation, and to
establish it before the world.
“Bodsell was at his club," said Bragson on re-entering the
room,“ but I caught him. He'll be with you in a few min-
utes. I told him it was urgent."
“Right."
With that Adye rose from his chair, put on his overcoat
again, and bade good-night to the solicitor, who saw him out
at the front door. There they were greeted by the hoarse
yells of newspaper-sellers who were rushing up and down
the street, shouting against each other :
“ ARREST O’SURRRUBERT WARE.
Great Sensaition! Speshall.”
“Ah, they've got it already, have they?” muttered Adye,
as he hurried to his taxi-cab to open the door, which, how-
ever, he was intercepted in doing by one of the yellers, who
turned the handle for him.
“Paiper, Sir. Arrest o' SurrRubert Ware. Buy one, sir.
Gorspel, sir - speshall.”
events, to the empt for him, he he might have been we


CHAPTER XXIII
TT would be no exaggeration to describe it as the biggest
I sensation afforded to London for many years. Of its
kind it was unique. To take murder trials only, there had
been several exciting cases within living memory, owing their
thrill to one cause or another which lifted them out of the
common rut. But whatever the cause, be it wireless telegra-
phy or any other uncanny invention, or a poison mystery,
which is always an attraction, broadly speaking it is the social
status of the people involved which gives a real zest to the
proceedings and whets the appetite of the sensation-loving
public. Here there was a feast for them. A real live baronet
was the accused. His supposed victim, or rather his victim,
without any qualification in the opinion of those charitable
people who invariably make it a rule immediately to assume
the guilt of any person once charged, quite regardless of the
evidence of which they have not heard a word, was not only
a gentleman, but the brother of one of the most beautiful
women in England. And she, together with her husband,
was a persona grata in society.
As we have seen, the inquest had been given, by the Press,
unusual prominence, but an approaching murder trial of this
cachet was a very different affair. It swamped everything
else. Politics bored people more than ever. A country called
Germany did not exist. A rearrangement of the Cabinet
was a matter of sublime indifference to everybody but the
successful and the disappointed. A further fall in Consols
was regarded with complete equanimity. The starting of a
memorial by public subscription to a distinguished man was
postponed until more importance could be accorded to it by the
papers. Interview-lovers and self-advertisers were seriously
curtailed and, to their indignation, shoved into a corner on
page 14 without a proper headline. People attending fash-
ionable weddings and funerals and receptions and other amus-
235


236
THE WARE CASE
ing functions felt a pang of disappointment in the knowledge
that, though they saw to it that the fact was duly chronicled,
comparatively few people would read it. And most significant
of all, indeed a grave sign of the times, the sale of football
editions had fallen off a little.
And if at the time of the inquest people everywhere dis-
cussed the verdict from their own point of view, how much
more animated were the discussions now! Domestic rows
were ubiquitous. Indeed, the paterfamilias, with the wife
called Elizabeth and the small son called Jack, in order to keep
his reason was actually driven into a solitary week-end exile at
the seaside. The enfant terrible pursued him everywhere in
his own home, and started the subject early each morning.
He watched him shave regularly, a practice he had of late
grown tired of.
“What did I say, father? I knew Sir Hubert Ware did
it. I said so all along, didn't I? I told you so.”
And the paterfamilias cut himself.
Then again, the wife, of course, would not budge from her
original conclusion that Lady Ware had killed the boy herself.
She was most emphatic through the open door of her bed-
room, and told her son to be silent.
" Jack!” roared the paterfamilias, “ clear out! And you,
Elizabeth, with whom it's impossible to argue about anything
reasonably, wait till that wretched woman gives her evidence
at the trial. Damn it, the man's not shown what his defence
is yet!”
“I know that, George, but I believe she did it.”
It was hopeless, and the paterfamilias bolted by the Gran-
ville express to Ramsgate.
This is but one instance. Scores of families were scarcely
on speaking terms. Amongst acquaintances and friends, too,
there was plenty of discussion, however seemly, and opinion
as to the ultimate result of the coming trial was fairly evenly
divided. In several clubs bets upon it were exchanged
freely.
To account for all this argument and turmoil it must be
explained that, after many remands, the proceedings before
the magistrate had terminated in the month of December,


THE WARE CASE
237
w. was in the closed fully; basell, who
some five weeks after Ware's arrest, in the manner fore-
shadowed to Magdalen by Adye. Sir Hubert Ware was
committed to take his trial at the Old Bailey at the January
sessions, the alleged murder having been perpetrated at Wil-
bury which, as we know, was in the county of Middlesex.
The case for the prosecution was disclosed fully, but Ware,
acting upon the advice of his solicitor, Charles Bodsell, who
appeared regularly for him at the Police Court, and skilfully
cross-examined the witnesses for the Crown, reserved his
defence until the trial.
At the conclusion of the hearing, when the magistrate, in
the usual way, informed the prisoner that he was at liberty
to say anything he chose, though he was not bound to do so,
Ware, who had maintained throughout his ordeal a remark-
able fortitude and self-control, stood up bravely in the small
dock, and said:
" At this stage I only wish to say that my defence to this
cruel charge I intend to reserve until my trial. An appalling
chain of circumstantial evidence has been drawn round me,
but before God I'm innocent, and I will prove my in-
nocence !"
The words rang out strongly and sincerely in the small
packed court, and a sporting element there of considerable
size burst forth into loud cheers.
Charles Bodsell had advised him to say as little as pos-
sible, but afterwards the solicitor was bound to admit that
what he did say he said well; and that, without a doubt,
it made a marked impression upon those who heard it.
Magdalen had risen from her seat and was standing close
to the dock, and her husband's words were no sooner uttered
than, to the discomfiture of his watch-dogs, she thrust her
hand forward which he grasped greedily over the iron rail,
and only let go at the quick intervention of the gaolers. It
was an action on her part which moved every one to pity.
It was plain to all that she believed him. Day after day she
had attended the Police Court regularly. Ware had sent his
entreaties to her through Charles Bodsell to do so. And
although these two during the three years had scarcely held
a thought in common, and were husband and wife but in


THE WARE CASE
239
a drawing-room it is the same story. A gentleman of cul-
ture may twist his wife's wrists, or make her existence a
hell by some other subtle form of legal cruelty. But put
him in jeopardy of his life, and she will fight for it till she
drops, and swear that it was a lie.
And in Magdalen's case, as in most others, it amounted to
this — that she, within her own four walls, could attack her
husband, but anyone outside them had better not attempt
to. She knew what her life had been. But to whatever
depth of humiliation and wretchedness he had brought her,
he was innocent here.
She had had, then, to endure the publication of much of
the story in spite of all her fervent hopes that it might never
be known. And it was a relief to her when that portion of
the case was disposed of, no matter how extraordinary the
remainder of the story might be. The evidence already
given at the inquest was repeated. The two doctors spoke
in precisely the same tones as before, referring to their
notes made at the time of their examination of the body;
Durnwell attached his customary importance to “ them
weeds,” and was as repetitious and prolix as ever; and
Paterson had not changed in the meantime, though now he
felt more sure that the man he saw in the punt from half
a mile away was wearing a light suit - a point which Charles
Bodsell was not slow to pounce upon, since at the inquest
he had stated positively that it was impossible for him to say
whether the suit was light or dark.
But the dramatic turn in the proceedings came through
the evidence of Inspector Watkin, who, as Michael Adye
had guessed, was at the bottom of all the mischief. The tale
which he unfolded was a remarkable one, and it was upon
his later discoveries at Wilbury that the prosecution was
launched.
It may be remembered that he was summoned to White-
hall to see the Director of Public Prosecutions concerning a
burglary case, and that he attended the interview, at which
Sir Henry Egerton was present, in a very dejected frame of
mind. It also may not be forgotten that, while the inspector


242
THE WARE CASE
Undoubtedly Watkin was not such a fool as he looked.
He waited in the doorway for a few minutes, and, on
overhearing the gardener upon the terrace indignantly ex-
postulating with her about the other officer upsetting his
bathing-shed and his boats, was hopeful of a short respite
from her presence.
The inspector's movements then became quick and active.
He extracted the key from the outside of the library door,
which he closed quietly, and turned the lock from the
inside.
“ Just see that the window's bolted," he said to his com-
panion. “ For a few minutes at any rate we'll keep the
woman out. Pull down the blinds so that they can't look
in, and if we can't see enough I'll switch on the electric
light.”
The officer did as he was told.
“Now," continued Watkin, "you look at the books on
that side, and I'll do the same here. ‘Books I have read,'
or something like that, is what I am hunting for. It
wouldn't be a big book.”
“But what use could it be, sir, if we found it?”
“ That I don't know," answered Watkin. “With my
luck over this affair, probably none, but still, you never can
tell. It's just another inspiration of mine, Chalmers, and
it's the last card I shall play.”
Rows of books were scanned quickly by the two men on
either side of the room, but no result attended their efforts.
They merely encountered such volumes as would hold a
place in any well-stocked library. Watkin felt that he was
doomed to disappointment. With a crestfallen expression
he wandered to the Chippendale writing-table, which upon
the afternoon of the tragedy had been hurriedly shifted from
the middle of the room to allow space for the long oak table
from the hall upon which Eustace Ede's body was placed.
Since then the writing-table had been restored to its usual
position in the centre, and this was where Watkin now
found it. But there was next to nothing upon it. Nearly
all the nicknacks had been removed, and there was certainly
no trace of any book. Every drawer, too, was locked.
of encountered library in a crestha
he wanderen of the tragedy w space for


THE WARE CASE
243
And yet, the inspector thought, this was the most likely
place for any diary to be kept. If he only had proper au-
thority for his search he could force the drawers open and
ransack them. But he had no authority at all beyond the
general permission of Sir Hubert Ware, given very
hurriedly on his departure from the house, that he was at
liberty to do anything he liked. He cursed his luck, but he
must act warily or he might get into trouble. And then,
again, it was more than possible that with the removal to
London this precious “ Book-diary” might also have taken
its departure. The only chance against that, the inspector
pondered, lay in the fact that the general exodus from
Wilbury had been a hurried one, and that in the not un-
natural anxiety to quit the place without delay one or two
small things might by some good fortune have been for-
gotten. But it was a case of hoping against hope, he began
to fear.
His companion had gone to the window and was looking
out from behind the dropped blind.
“ That woman coming back?” asked Watkin.
“Not yet," answered Chalmers. “She left the terrace
with the gardener just now in the direction of the lake.
Fairly put out she seemed, too.”
“That's all right.”
With that the inspector set himself to think where exactly
the writing-table had been removed when the body lay in
the room, and he remembered that it was placed against the
bookshelves which lined the wall between the fireplace and
the door leading to the hall. He then went over to the space
quickly, and examined shelf after shelf from the top down-
wards. Dickens, Thackeray, Fielding, George Eliot, Scott,
Beaconsfield — all stared him in the face in their beautiful
bindings, but none of them were particularly helpful at the
present juncture. As he looked lower down — in fact, at the
bottom shelf — there was a number of very large books, too
high to stand perpendicularly like the others, lying horizon-
tally one upon the other, the topmost being an edition of the
“ Times Atlas” bound in pale green. Between this and the
next shelf there was a gap, and for some quite unaccount-


244
THE WARE CASE
able reason it attracted Watkin's attention. Indeed, with-
out knowing why, he pulled out the atlas, and when it was
almost entirely removed from its position he saw lying care-
lessly upon the far side of it a small thin book with a brown
morocco cover. He took it in his hand, pushing the atlas
back, and there in gold letters stamped upon it were these
words —" Books I have read.”
“Give me a light,” he called out.
And Chalmers turned the switch of the lamp upon the
writing-table,
Watkin hurried to it with the book, which he examined
eagerly.
“ Yes,” he said excitedly, “Sir Hubert's name in it, and
this year's. January, February, March,- yes, plenty of
books entered. Now, what about September?” And he
turned over the leaves as fast as he could. “ September,
September, September — Yes, here we are — September.
What about the roth? —No, no entry. Anything on the gth,
then? Yes! What does it say now? What does it say?"
He struggled to read the writing and then exclaimed !
“ French Crimes, Vol II., Page 285, The Farm Pond
Murder!”
“By Jove, that's rum,” said Chalmers.
“Yes, there's something curious in this! Where's the
volume? Seen anything like 'French Crimes' on your
side?"
“Stop a bit. I'm not sure I didn't.”
“ Look again, then, quick!”
Chalmers returned to a portion of the bookshelves upon
the other side of the room, and ran his finger along the
volumes. Presently he called out to Watkin:
“ Yes, here they are. Three volumes.”
“ Bring me the second. That's all we want."
Chalmers brought the book across to him, and the inspec-
tor turned at once to page 285.
“Yes, here we are," he said. ““The Farm Pond Mur-
der.' It's not long."
But at that moment Chalmers ran to the window, and


THE WARE CASE
245
looked out again. “ Look out, sir," he whispered, “Mrs.
Rate's coming back along the terrace."
“Right. Stick that into your overcoat pocket.” And he
handed him the “ Book-diary.” “I'll put this into mine."
And he quickly concealed “French Crimes.” “ And now
fill up the gap you took the volume from. Spread the other
books out, and no one'll notice.”
Chalmers did as he was told, while the inspector extin-
guished the electric lamp, drew up the blinds, and unlocked
the door, placing the key as before upon the outside.
Everything was accomplished just in time. A moment
later Mrs. Rate returned to them to find the room as she left
it, with the inspector almost asleep in his easy-chair and
Chalmers in another.
“Well, you ’ave deserted us, Mrs. Rate, but better late
than never, eh?” said Watkin with the noisiest yawn that
ever was yawned.
“ Yes, it was that man of yours with 'is draggin'. The
gardener took me down to see with my own eyes the mess
’e's made of the shed.”
She went on to explain volubly how the gardener would
have to tidy up again after him, and that she would com-
plain to Sir Hubert.
But Watkin received it all very good-temperedly, and as-
sured the woman that the shed would be left by his man as
he found it !
“ I'll go down and see to it myself,” he added.
Mrs. Rate was relieved to find that the intruders were
actually anxious to leave the house. The surprise pacified
her considerably, and she deigned to shake hands with the
inspector upon the terrace.
“Yes, it's no use your comin' here again,” she said,
“you'll never find out anythin', as I've always said.”
Watkin and Chalmers shook their heads sadly, and, after
leaving Mrs. Rate at the front door, and subsequently, by
the aid of half a crown, completely satisfying the gardener,
went down in the direction of the bathing-shed to join their
companion.


248
THE WARE CASE
listen to and endure. But she did listen to it and she did
endure it. She never flinched. And after she had grasped
her husband's hand upon his committal, she walked unaided
from the court with that exquisite dignity which she never
had to assume, believing implicitly in his innocence.


CHAPTER XXIV
THE prolonged nervous tension had told upon Magdalen
1 severely. Her London doctor and her friends were
extremely anxious about her. A collapse seemed imminent
and between the police court proceedings and the trial her
removal from London was deemed imperative if she ever
was to be expected to give her evidence on her husband's
behalf, which was considered by her advisers to be vital to
him.
Consequently, after much persuasion and entreaty, she
was accompanied, only by her maid and her devoted little
friend, Celia, to a small restful nook upon the Devonshire
coast with the peremptory order of the doctor to remain
there in absolute quiet without a newspaper of any kind
until the commencement of the trial, four weeks hence. It
is doubtful whether the departure could have been accom-
plished at all had not a piece of information concerning her
husband been discreetly withheld from her.
Ware awaited his trial in prison, and, like all prisoners
charged with the capital offence, he was lodged in the in-
firmary so as to be always, day and night, under supervision.
But, as events proved, it was the only place fit for him.
An epidemic of influenza had broken out, and Ware, who
was doubtless weakened by his terrible mental strain, fell a
victim to it within a few hours of his committal for trial.
He was most carefully watched and nursed, but his attack
became serious, and pneumonia supervened, with the result
that for some days his life hung in the balance. Fortu-
nately, or unfortunately, however, he weathered the storm.
He became convalescent, and was at length permitted by the
medical officer to resume his interviews with his legal ad-
viser, who, in the circumstances, had been unable to see
him since the termination of the hearing before the magis-
trate.
249


250
THE WARE CASE
Accordingly, upon the day after the Law Courts rose for
the Christmas vacation, Michael Adye, tired from his heavy
work throughout the term, was sitting in his chambers in
King's Bench Walk in conference with Charles Bodsell, who
informed him of this message from the prison, and that he
had arranged to visit him upon that afternoon.
Not a man in England yearned for a holiday so much as
Adye did. Indeed, had he not been blessed with a constitu-
tion of iron, the strain of his parliamentary work and his
huge practice at the Bar would in all probability have meant
for him either Kensal Green or a madhouse. But a holiday
was out of the question with the Ware case at hand. It
was the heaviest responsibility ever cast upon him.
The public, however, regarded it all from a very different
point of view. Only sensation and excitement appealed to
them. And their interest in the coming trial, which was
" the best ” they had ever had, was undoubtedly not lessened
by the announcement that Sir Hubert Ware was to be
defended by “M.A.," and the prosecution led by the At-
torney-General. The news created fresh discussion.
Really, it was most accommodating of it to turn up in the
Christmas holidays. It was argued by some that the Crown
must be a little doubtful as to a conviction, or they would
not have retained the Attorney-General. This opinion,
however, was challenged by others, who maintained that in
a case of such importance the services of one of the Law
Officers was a foregone conclusion. Then, as regards
Michael Adye, while there was absolute unanimity as to
Ware having secured the first advocate at the Bar, there
were various deductions drawn. One was that Adye would
not, under any conditions, have undertaken the defence un-
less he was able to put a strong one before the jury. “He
has too much to lose, has ‘M.A.' He never would fight a
case, my dear chap, if he hadn't a real good sporting chance
of winning it.” And the other was that he was a personal
friend of Ware's, and could not very well get out of it.
Thus did conjecture flourish. And all the wiseacres and
all the armchair critics little imagined the true reason for
Adye's step, nor guessed its extreme simplicity – a man will
efended byouncement in had, was coming to
Thund of War, And the hadn't a


252
THE WARE CASE
upon the way Ware gave his evidence and stand the cross-
examination of the Attorney-General.
“Well, if he cuts as good a figure as when he protested
his innocence before the magistrate," said Bodsell," he'll be
all right. There was such a note of sincerity about it
that -"
“Oh, yes, I think we can trust, him to keep his head,"
added Adye quietly. “But that ring, you know.” And he
shook his head slowly.
“ Devilish awkward.”
He rose from his chair and paced the room with his
hands tightly linked behind his back.
" And, of course, the prosecution will work the prejudice
against him over the shady way he squandered his money
for all it's worth. Let us hope they'll overdo it.”
“ That's where Lady Ware's so fine," said the solicitor.
“For a wife to have had to endure all that, but to stand by
him in this -- !”
“Ah, a noble creature that, my dear Bodsell. It isn't
given to everybody to differentiate between sin and crime.”
“She'll make a tremendous effect in the box, I'm certain.
By Jove! What a lovely woman!”.
" But, you know," interrupted the K.C. quickly, as he con-
tinued his nervous walk, “what I wish we could get hold of
is some strong, independent witness who could establish the
man's innocence up to the hilt. We've got a certain amount
of evidence - a letter to Germany and so on — but I should
like to have more, Bodsell, much more, because, although
you and I may believe that he's the victim of a hideous
conglomeration of circumstances, we must never lose sight
of the fact that, whatever the ignorant public may think,
strong circumstantial evidence in cases like this is the most
powerful evidence of all. It's hanged many a man. And
I'm not a bit happy yet — not a bit.”
At that moment the clerk entered the room and closed the
door.
“Yes?" inquired Adye shortly.
“There's a man just come, sir, who says he must see you
immediately."


THE WARE CASE
253
“Well, tell him to go away. I'm engaged.”
“ That's what I did, sir, but he won't take No for an
answer. He says it's about the Ware case, and declares
that he can establish Sir Hubert Ware's innocence."
Adye and Bodsell were startled by the information, and
looked at each other curiously.
“Does he appear to be sane or —?" asked Adye.
“Oh, quite, sir. He's all right like that."
“Who is he?"
“ He wouldn't give his name, sir. But he swears he can
prove Sir Hubert Ware never did it, and that he means to go
into the box to say so.”
“Well, it would be more in order if he saw Mr. Bodsell
first at his office. Tell him that, and give him the address.”
The clerk opened the door, but was stopped by Bodsell,
who said: “I could see him at my office at four, if he came
then."
But before the clerk had time to leave, the door was pushed
open from the other side, and Tommy Bold stood in the
room.
“Mr. Adye, there can be no delay here, sir,” he cried
huskily, trembling from head to foot, “ there's an innocent
man on trial for his life, and I can't wait. I want, sir, to tell
you what I know. I- I was at Wilbury on the day the
brother-in-law was drowned. I—I saw it!”.
There was great emotion in the broken man's voice, and he
reeled with exhaustion against a chair, while the two lawyers
each took a step back in amazement.
“ What's the matter? Are you ill?” inquired Adye.
“Very, sir," was the whispered answer. “ I'm a doomed
man, sir, but before I go I want to save -a good friend's
life.”
“ Sit down."
The man sank weakly into the chair, and Adye turned to
the clerk. “ All right, William, you needn't wait,” he said.
The clerk retired from the room, and Adye seated himself
slowly at the head of his large writing-table, Bodsell standing
on his left.
The bookmaker was very short of breath, and from his


254
THE WARE CASE
emaciated look it was plain to the two shrewd observers, who
watched him eagerly, that his doom was consumption. He
had wasted terribly since his September visit to Wilbury,
when little enough was left of the once prosperous man.
Now was scarcely recognizable.
“I'm all right now, sir," he said at length.
“Do I understand you want to make some statement?”
asked Adye.
“ Yes, sir."
“I'll take it down in shorthand,” said Bodsell, as he sat at
the side of the table.
“ Take your own time," said the K.C. gently.
“Well, sir, I'm Tommy Bold, the bookmaker that once
was, and I've known Sir Hubert some years. He always
paid his bets, and he'll tell you I was always straight with
him. But I fell on bad days, sir, and — and everything —
went wrong."
His weak voice fell to a whisper again, and throughout his
narrative he spoke with great difficulty and under consider-
able emotion.
“I—I was near starving, sir, and last September the
tenth, not knowing which way to turn, I tramped by road -
to Wilbury. I knew Sir Hubert had a kind heart, and —
and I asked him for help. There's — there's a gentleman
who was there that can bear me out, too. The butler gave
me his name - Mr. Gurney, and — and—”.
“Quite right," interrupted Adye quickly. “Wait a mo-
ment, my good man. Get your breath.”
With that the K.C. opened the door hurriedly, and in-
structed his clerk to ring up Mr. Gurney at Pump Court and
ask him to come across at once. He also mixed some brandy
and water from a cupboard and handed it to the bookmaker,
who muttered his thanks and gulped some of it down. It
evidently revived the wretched creature, but Adye told hini
not to continue his story until Mr. Gurney came. He obeyed
the order submissively, and the bent figure remained huddled
in the chair with his eyes staring glassily in front of him.
Before two minutes had passed Marston was in the room.
“ You want to see me, Adye?” he said.


THE WARE CASE
255
But before the K.C. could answer, the bookmaker cried
hoarsely: “That's the gentleman, sir. That's him!”
Gurney was startled by the voice, and looked inquiringly
at the man, whose altered appearance did not come back to
him at once.
" I'm Tommy Bold, sir. Don't you remember me, sir?"
“ Why, of course," replied Gurney. “You came to see
Sir Hubert Ware at Wilbury”- and he turned to Adye -
“ on the day of the tragedy."
“Yes, sir, and — and I've come now — to save his life.”
Gurney stepped back in amazement, and, after an expla-
nation of the situation from Adye, took his seat near the
others, and listened to the completion of the story, nodding
in corroboration of those details to which he also was able
to speak.
“Well, sir, I asked Sir Hubert for help, and, by God, he
helped! No half-crown or five bob, but a five-pound note!”
Bold shook with emotion as he told this, and a violent fit
of coughing stopped him.
" Perfectly true,” interrupted Gurney, “and it must have
been his last fiver in the world!”
“Well, sir, then — then he sent me along to get some food,
and ordered me a pint of champagne. I told him I'd never
forget his goodness, and I haven't, and I— I never shall,
sir !”
“And then?” was the quiet question from Adye, who was
anxious for more, and wanted to keep him to the point.
“He also told me to have a stroll in the grounds after my
meal before I returned to London, and it was in that way, sir,
that I saw what proves his innocence —”.
The K.C. leaned forward over the table, and an expression
of avidity came into his eyes. Bodsell and Gurney, too,
hung upon his words; and while the bookmaker swallowed
with difficulty, gathering his strength to complete the narra-
tive, there was a tense stillness in the room.
"I went out into the garden, sir, and wandered about a
bit in the park till I came to the lake. And — and within,
say, a couple of hundred yards of the boathouse — it looked
like a boathouse, sir —"


256
THE WARE CASE
“ Yes, yes!" came quickly from Adye.
“Well, sir, I was sleepy like — the food and the wine -
well, I'd been strangers to both for some time — I curled
myself up under a tree in the shade, and I suppose I dozed
off, sir. But — but presently I woke, and in the distance
I saw a young gentleman — fair and thin — with a towel,
I thought it was, round his neck come to the boathouse.”
“Do you remember how he was dressed at all? ”
"A light suit, sir, and he had - one of those — Trilby
hats on - white it looked."
“ Quite right,” said Adye in an excited whisper. “Had
you ever seen him before?".
“Never in my life.”
“And then ? "
“Well, sir, he went into the boathouse.”
“ Alone?”
“ Quite alone. I didn't think anything of it at the time.
And then presently he came out again just as he was —
and — and walked to the punt at the side. He unchained it
from the bank -”
“Can you swear to that?”.
“Yes, sir, I can,” was the determined reply. “And then
he got into the punt and shoved it off with the pole —"
“ Well?"
“And I remember as he did so he lost his — balance, and
- and slipped —"
“ Slipped badly, do you mean?” asked Adye eagerly.
“ Think!”
“Well, sir, he fell forwards on - on his knee — and I
thought he knocked his head somehow against the — the
edge of the punt. I- I saw him — just put his hand —
against his —
" His forehead, Bold?” was the keen question.
“Well, sir, somewhere - over his eye — I thought.”
“Go on!”
“But it didn't seem to - upset him — very much. Then
he shoved off a little way out, sir, and stopped. Then he
seemed — to stand still a bit -- and — and look at the water
-as if hesitating. Then I see him bend low down right


THE WARE CASE
257
Landing stage sir. In a more of him?»
over the side. I-I—I couldn't tell exactly what it was
he was doing, but it — it struck me as if he was feeling the
water — to — to see if it was cold. To be truthful, sir, I
didn't think much about it.”
“ And after that?"
“He came back in a minute or two to the bank, and got
out of the punt.”
“Did he chain it up again? Think very carefully."
“No, sir, I don't think he did. I—I didn't see him
do so."
Bodsell looked up from his shorthand notes at Adye, who
uttered a sigh of relief.
“He seemed a bit hurried like then, sir, and went into
the boathouse."
“But did you see no more of him?".
“Oh, yes, sir. In a few minutes he came out on the
landing stage as he was with his clothes on and sat down
by the steps, and after a little while he got up and disap-
peared into the boathouse again. Then a few minutes later
I saw him in his bathing suit go down the steps into the
water."
“You saw that distinctly?”
“Distinctly, sir."
“And was he alone?”
“Quite, sir !”
“ You're sure?”
“ Positive."
“ Could you have recognized Sir Hubert if he'd been
there?”
“Why, of course I could, sir. But he wasn't there. I'll
swear to that on my oath!”
And the man with some nervous strength banged one hand
upon the other.
“After the young fellow entered the water," continued
Adye, concealing his excitement, " did he swim, or what?”
“Yes, sir, he — he went a little way out — not far; and
just about then I got up from under the trees, brushed my
clothes a bit, and walked off to the station. I wasn't think-
ing anything about it. The — the — the young, gentleman,


258
THE WARE CASE
I suppose — was enjoying — just his ordinary dip. But just
before I started on my walk I remember I did look round,
but the young gentleman wasn't there any more, and if I
thought anything I thought he'd gone back into the boat-
house."
“And then you went to the station and back to London ? "
“Yes, sir.'
“ And during that time you're certain you saw nobody else
but —"
“But — but the young gentleman, sir. I'll swear to it!”
The bookmaker fought again for breath, and lifting the
glass from the floor with his shaking hand, drank off the rest
of the brandy and water.
Gurney whispered excitedly to Bodsell, and Adye once
again paced the room from the fireplace to the window, and
from the window to the fireplace. He stopped there and
upon the bookmaker and said in an exceedingly quiet tone:
“Of course you've told us a very remarkable story which
should go far towards establishing Sir Hubert Ware's inno-
cence, but why haven't you told it before?”
Tommy Bold looked at him furtively, but no answer came.
“ Sir Hubert befriended you, you say,” continued the K.
C. “He was good to you — remarkably good, it seems to
me, when one knows his circumstances at the time.”
“He was, sir,” cried the bookmaker. “He was a tip-
topper, he was!”
“ Then why have you allowed all these weeks to go by
since his arrest before telling this story?”
"Must I — must I answer that, sir?" and the tears rushed
to the man's eyes.
“ I'm afraid you must,” was the gentle answer.
The bookmaker hung his head and jerked out the words:
“ Because, sir, since October — I've — I've been in prison
- at Stafford — two months hard — for — for stealing — to
- to — to keep alive. And I never heard - a word of it -
till I came out two days ago. I- I came — I- came as
fast as I could then, sir. Don't say I'm too late, sir! Don't
say I'm too late!”


THE WARE CASE
259
I think ill quickly tookting some sind wait for bwhere he
He shook from head to foot, and had a paroxysm of cry-
ing which moved the three listeners to pity.
“ Steady, man, steady,” said Adye, sympathetically, as he
placed a hand on his wasted shoulder. “Mr. Bodsell here
will see that you're comfortably looked after during the case.
I think you need a doctor too."
Bodsell quickly took out a visiting card, handed it to
Tommy Bold, and putting some silver into his hand, told
him to drive at once to his office and wait for him.
He staggered to his feet and shuffled to the door, where he
turned.
“I thank you kindly, sir," he said. “I haven't much
longer here, sir. I know that." That was the prison doctor's
parting shot. “But before I go I mean to save Sir Hubert!
Then the sooner I pop off the better."
The next instant he was gone.
“ What time, Bodsell, are you due at the prison to see
Ware?” asked Adye rapidly, as he pulled out his watch.
“Two-thirty.”
"We'll lunch at the club, then, and go on together.”
“ You'll see him with me?"
Bodsell's surprise was not unnatural. It is somewhat rare
for a counsel to visit his client in prison in this way.
“Yes,” answered Adye thoughtfully.
“Right.”
“But, Bodsell, communicate at once with the prison at
Stafford, and ascertain, without giving anything away, if this
man was there, and if he did only come out two days ago.
Also get from Bold what hour, about, he left Wilbury station
for London. We must see if we can have that corroborated.
The man's history is shaky, and it must be backed up if
possible.”
" It's an amazing bit of luck, though,” cried Gurney.
“Yes,” said Adye; "the independent witness we were
longing for, and corroborated largely by you, Marston! A
bolt from the blue! Not a word to a soul! ”


CHAPTER XXV
were few by be stricthey were
HERE was a fair sprinkling of members of the club
1 at luncheon, and Michael Adye and Charles Bodsell
attracted some curiosity as they sat at their table. Indeed,
there were few men in the room who were not discussing the
Ware case. To be strictly accurate, there were only two
who were not doing so. They were Adye and Bodsell. They
enlarged upon many topics — the latest novel, the best play,
the coming pantomime, politics, golf, hunting, shooting, fly-
ing, Monte Carlo, Bridge, cigars, wine. But "shop" was
barred. And they were delighted to meet any friend who
belonged to any profession but their own. It was a blow
to the waiters. They had hovered round the K.C.'s table
assiduously for half an hour. In fact, Adye remarked to
his companion that the service at the club had distinctly im-
proved.
“ See that man over there by the last window?” said a
struggling young barrister to a new Iramatic author who had
lately been elected. “Know who he is?”.
“ No. Strong face, though.”
“That's the great ‘M.A.'!”
"Michael Adye! The devil it is. By Jove! I always
thought he was much fairer than that.”
“Wonderful chap. How the deuce he manages to get
through his work I can't think. It's simply colossal. Ever
heard him?"
“No, never. Fine speaker- oh, fine.”
“He'll be tremendous in the Ware trial. Just his case.
I'd go miles to hear it. An extraordinary story, that.”
“He looks happy enough about it, doesn't he? I suppose
though, a fellah like that with one big case after another
grows pretty callous. The same as the surgeon, I take it?
It's all just a case with a huge fee at the end of it.”
260


THE WARE CASE
261
Then at another table were seated two old friends in the
fifties, the one happily married, the other miserably:
“I often wonder Michael Adye doesn't marry. Why
doesn't he, now ? ”
“Too clever.”
“Hallo! There's the Attorney-General. My word!
There'll be a battle between those two at the Old Bailey next
month.”
And it was the Attorney-General who, on receiving a wave
of the hand from Adye, strolled to his table to speak to him.
Every man in the room was interested to see the two great
antagonists together. The waiters hovered round the neigh-
bourhood more assiduously than ever. This is what they
heard for their pains:
“How are you, Michael? Going south?”
“No, old man — stuck in town. Are you?”
“ Not so far, but a few days in Paris will see me, I hope.
Have you just finished lunch?”
“Yes. I recommend the filet de bæuf. Excellent!
Good-bye, Johnny.”
Adye and Bodsell then made their way to the smoking-
room, and decided that there was just time for a cigar and
coffee and old brandy. Ten minutes later they were in a
taxi-cab on their way to Ware's prison. They were at busi-
ness again.
“There's one thing we've got to be thankful for," said
Adye with a grunt. “I heard just now before I left the
Temple that old Burrock, by the mercy of Providence, is
going circuit and won't try the case.”
“The gods are on our side, then.”
“Yes, the fact of Ware, a married man, being mixed up
with another woman, apart from the ugly financial side of
it, would have been quite enough for Burrock. He'd have
hanged him for a 'monkey.'”.
“Who will the judge be, then?”
“ Dick Petworth, thank heaven! - a man of the world.”
“ Splendid! That'll be another good bit of news for Ware.
I say, the poor devil will be fairly staggered when he hears
about Tommy Bold."


262
THE WARE CASE
“ Ye-e-s,” said Adye between his teeth, which held his
half-smoked cigar. “Do you think the bookie did it, Bod-
sell ?”
"No," laughed out the other heartily. “Why, do you?”
“Oh, you never know. Been in gaol — Damned bad rec-
ord — Dying man obviously — Conscience, and all that.”
“But with what object?”
“Well, the wretched devil was on his beam ends."
“Yes, but he would have bagged the money. And look
at all there was found on young Ede."
“Yes, of course. That's true.”
“And Ware had just given him a fiver."
“I was only wondering — just turning it over. But you
know, Bodsell," and he spoke slowly and perplexedly, “I
can't get away from one feeling. It's always coming up
against me. I believe it was murder by some one or other."
“In spite of the bookie's story?”
“Of course there's that, and so far he tells it all right.
But the doctors' evidence! Those marks upon the throat,
and the bruise and abrasion on the forehead caused by a
blow possibly, they say, from that infernal ring. I should
like to be able to smash up that medical evidence. And
there's only one possible way, however far-fetched it may be,
that I can see. I was worrying it out last night.”
“What's that?” asked Bodsell eagerly.
“Well, by the theory of suicide. I shall use that unfin-
ished letter from the boy to Lady Ware with that object,
where he expresses his regret, and wishes he wasn't so use-
less — some words like that, and speaks of the money."
“ Yes; but, on the other hand, he speaks of dividing it
on his return from Germany, so that he had it in his mind to
start on the journey.”
“My dear fellah, how do we know what he had in his
mind? I'm raising it as a defence, don't you see? That's
all. It can be argued quite differently by the prosecution.
No one knows that better than I do. But the thing, if we
can, is to raise a doubt in that jury's mind. And remember,
the man's on trial for his life, and if that doubt can once be
raised fairly feasibly, there are precious few juries that are


266
THE WARE CASE
since the night of his arrest at Bruton Street. But leave it
entirely to me, Bodsell. I must take him right through the
story and cross-examine him.” .
This was his invariable practice — to cross-examine closely
his own client when in consultation. It was often a cross-
examination of the most searching description. It was
thought by him to be the only way of discovering the weak
spots in the case as well as the strong ones. And when his
clients entered the witness-box it was fascinating to see how
Adye handled them.
Before many minutes had passed they heard steps in the
stone-paved corridor through the open door, and Sir Hubert
Ware, supported under the elbow by a warder, walked weakly
into the room.
The warder indicated a chair at one end of the table for
Ware to take, and another at the further end to Adye.
“I'll close the door, sir. But I have to remain outside.
I can hear nothing that passes, sir. But I have to see.”
With that the officer, who had assisted Ware to his seat,
left the grim apartment, and closed the door firmly. He was,
however, discernible upon the other side of the glass panel.
Both Ware and Adye instinctively turned their eyes slowly
towards it, and saw the burly figure of the warder watching
them. The thoughts of them both at that moment must be
left to the imagination.


CHAPTER XXVI
W ARE had made the best he could of his appearance
in the circumstances. He looked, in fact, strangely
incongruous with the ghastly surroundings, and the antithe.
sis of the shabby, down-at-heel wretch who had just quitted
the room and passed him in the passage with enormous curi-
osity. His clothes were carefully thought out in every detail,
as usual. He wore a faultlessly cut blue serge suit, patent
leather button boots with drab tops, the latest pattern of
turn-over collar, a neat black and white bird's-eye tie not
needing a scarf-pin, which, owing to' the possibility of sui-
cide, was against the regulations, and one of the few smart
golfing shirts in his possession, which fastened at the wrists
with a button instead of links. He was able, also, to be
shaved at times, and his hair was well brushed. But illness
and anxiety had left their scars. He was as handsome as
ever, but older and thinner. The fit of his suit at the mo-
ment would have caused real anguish to his tailor in Savile
Row, and his hosier would not have acknowledged the cut of
that collar. The back of his neck had shrunk perceptibly,
his eyes appeared larger, and his well-shaped hand looked
almost transparent. Nor did the hideous gas-burners on this
dark December afternoon help him. Their fierce white light
intensified his pallor. But in the presence of his “ friend”
he was able to call to his assistance that coolness and self-
possession and charm of manner for which he was famous.
Whether in the dead of night they sometimes deserted him
it was never stated. The only confidential report ever made
was to the effect that while in bed in the infirmary he would
occasionally pull the bed-clothes over his head, only to have
them removed promptly by his watchers, who were ever on
the look-out for suicidal tricks in their captives.
His action, however, might only have been due to misery
and mental pain. It was difficult to say,
267


270
THE WARE CASE
“I- I suppose so.”
“But Sir Henry Egerton did. He distinctly says so."
“Yes, yes, I forgot for the moment.”
“He says, further, that he saw you descend the other
steps, which are some six in number, opposite the library
window, to the lower level of the garden not in the direction
of the croquet lawn, and that you did not join him and the
others for quite a quarter of an hour. Can you explain
that?”
"I was extremely worried that day, though he may not
have known it. I did go down the steps he speaks of.
But I only sat down on a seat for a minute or two before
going round to the croquet.”
“Can that seat be seen from the croquet lawn?"
“ No."
“ Might it have been longer than a minute or two?"
“ Well - er "
"Might it have been three minutes?”
“Of course, as I say, I was frightfully worried, and I
was trying to think what I could do."
“ Might it then have been five minutes ?”
“Oh, perhaps it might. I can't say really."
“ Might it have been ten?”
“ Well - er —”
“ Might it have been fifteen ? ".
“No, it couldn't have been." And Ware wiped his upper
lip with his handkerchief, while the K.C. paused before put-
ting the next question.
"I may take it, I suppose, that when your wife suggested
your going to Sir Henry Egerton, you had it in your mind
to follow the suggestion ?”.
“Yes,” answered Ware wearily.
“Then why didn't you take the nearest way? Why go
out of the direction altogether?”
Ware shrugged his shoulders helplessly and answered:
"I could no more give reasons for my movements that
day than I could fly.”
Adye's piercing eyes were fixed upon him with an un-


THE WARE CASE
271
usual intentness, and became to Ware, as many a person
described who had been cross-examined by him, like one.
“ You say the seat you sat upon cannot be seen from the
croquet lawn?”.
“ That is so."
“ About what level upon the six odd steps would you
reach, do you think, before you would be out of sight of
the croquet lawn?”
“Oh, the bottom perhaps."
“ Then from that moment Sir Henry Egerton or any one
else upon the croquet lawn would lose sight of you?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“ Aren't you sure?”
"Well, yes, I suppose I am sure of that.”
“How long would it take you to walk quickly from that
spot to the bathing-shed ?”
The question came out with great rapidity, but Ware re-
plied quite naturally:
“Oh, very little time. It's nothing of a distance; cer-
tainly not more than a hundred yards.”
“ That's a very frank answer. I shall put that question
to you when you go into the box, and I would suggest your
answering it in the same way. You say emphatically, then,
that you remained on that seat for less than fifteen
minutes."
“I do."
“And that Sir Henry Egerton is speaking an untruth
when he puts it at a quarter of an hour from the time he
saw you come out of the library to the terrace to the time
of your arrival on the lawn?”.
“I say that Sir Henry is mistaken — seriously mistaken.”
“Well, then, you joined him. What followed ? ”
“Very shortly afterwards we all came back to the library
to my wife, and a few minutes later Rate called me out into
the hall to tell me the awful discovery. Must I go into all
the rest ? ”
“No, Ware. You needn't do that. I'll take you to an-
other side of the matter.” And Adye considered a while


274 : THE WARE CASE
“I was.”
“Can you account satisfactorily for its subsequent dis-
covery in the lake?”
“I can.”
Adye regarded him with quick anxiety. His expression
was eloquent. It showed Ware distinctly that his answer
upon this point was one of the utmost importance.
“How do you account for it?” he asked slowly.
There was a moment's silence before Ware began his
explanation.
“ Three days after the catastrophe - early in the morning
- I went down to the lake to bathe.”
“From the same spot?” And the K.C.'s eyes opened
wide with astonishment.
“Yes, from one of the boats. And -"
“Wait one moment."
Adye wished to collect his thoughts, so amazed was he.
No one spoke for some time, and Bodsell alone moved. He
made a note of this explanation upon a piece of paper near
him. Adye did not express his thoughts as he sat silently
watching his client in front of him sitting quite composedly
with his arms folded. But he was contemplating him in the
light of the most remarkable study he had ever encountered
in his experience. Here was a man actually able to bathe
in the very place where three days before his brother-in-
law was drowned! Adye thought that he had never heard
anything so astounding. Magdalen was, in truth, right
when she described Ware to him as abnormal.
“ Yes — go on," said Adye very quietly.
“I lost the ring then. It was on getting back into the
boat after my swim that it slipped off. It was always a
shade large for me."
“Er - did you miss it at once?”
“ Almost."
“ Had you always been in the habit of wearing it?"
“Oh, for some years."
“On which hand?”
“ The right.”
“Finger?”
here was any he had evs
very place


THE WARE CASE
275
“The little finger.”
“ Did you mention the loss to any one at the time?”
Ware thought for a while, and replied:
"I don't think I did.”
“That was a pity. Are you sure you mentioned it to no
one?”
“No, I don't think I did.”
“On the night of your arrest at Bruton Street you were
taken to the police station and searched. And you were
found to be wearing then a signet ring almost identical with
the one you lost, upon the little finger of the right hand.”
“ That is so," was the calm reply.
“For how long had you had that in your possession ?”
“Oh, a few weeks.”
“Was it a present, or did you buy it?"
“I bought it.”
“Where?”
“At Felkington's in Cockspur Street."
“ Was it made for you, or did you find it in the shop?”
"Found it in the shop. It was just an ordinary plain
gold signet-ring, with an oval seal.”
“When did you buy it?”
"I forget the date, but Felkington's could give that.”
“And they, of course, engraved your monogram upon it
-‘H.W. Is the design of the monogram the same as that
on the ring you lost?”
“Oh, exactly. They have my pattern at Felkington's.”
“Was it shortly after your return to London from Wil-
bury that you bought it?”
“Yes. I'm not at all sure it wasn't the next day. But
Felkington's could tell you, no doubt.”
“Why did you buy it?” And the K.C. eyed him fixedly.
“Why did I buy it? Well, I missed my ring. I often
wanted to seal my letters, and —”.
“ You ordered it to the exact pattern of the other?”
“ Certainly. I liked the pattern."
“On this morning, three days after the tragedy - that
you bathed — did anyone in the house know that you
bathed?”


276
THE WARE CASE
"I don't think so. I got up very early. It was one of
those terribly hot mornings in September, and I was
restless."
“About what time did you get up?"
“At six.”
“Early as that?"
“Yes, quite."
“ Before any servants were down?”
“ Yes, they're not over good at getting up, I'm afraid."
“How soon were you back?”.
“Oh, in a quarter of an hour, I dare say."
“ Later, when the servants were about, did you give your
bathing-suit to any one to have it dried, or leave it out in
your room or anywhere else for that purpose?”
“No, I wore no bathing-suit. It was so early. No one
was about.”
“ Your wife didn't know you went to bathe?”
“No. We had separate rooms — some distance apart.”
“At breakfast, after breakfast, or at any time during the
day did you mention the fact of your having bathed to any
one who could corroborate your story?”
“I don't think I did, worse luck! We were all so upset
over the inquest that we thought and talked of nothing else.
I think the bathe and the ring went clean out of my mind.”
Ware was undoubtedly now feeling the strain of this
cross-examination. He had stood it, considering his weak
state, remarkably well, and some sort of outburst from him
was not surprising.
"Oh, but Adye,” he cried, “I know what you're think-
ing —!"
“ Calm yourself, Ware. Calm yourself. I'm only think-
ing of one thing - the effect of everything upon a court
and jury,” said Adye slowly.
“Everything's as ugly as it could possibly be. I know
that perfectly well. As I said at the police court, it's a web
of circumstances they've got round me. If I'd only done
some of the things I see you wish I had done! It's fate,
this !”
He sprang to his feet as he uttered these words. For


THE WARE CASE
277
the first time he lost his self-control. Adye very gently
induced him to resume his seat, but the man's excessive
weakness was plain to him. Beads of sweat stood out upon
his pale forehead, and almost as fast as Ware wiped them
away with his handkerchief they returned. The warder
outside the glass panel kept his eyes riveted upon him. He
was ready to spring into the room at any moment if needed.
In the circumstances, therefore, Adye resolved to con-
clude the interview as quickly as possible.
“But now," he said quietly, “I have some information to
give you of an extraordinary character. An ex-bookmaker,
called Tommy Bold, at your wish apparently, was strolling
in the grounds that afternoon.”
And Adye, as quickly as he could, gave Bold's story,
which Ware listened to silently with his eyes fixed upon the
K.C. He did not move a muscle, and at its conclusion
seemed to fail to grasp its import.
“ You realize the weight this may carry, don't you?”
asked Adye. “ The man's history is not a good one, of
course, but the early portion of his evidence will be corrob-
orated by Marston Gurney."
“Adye,” said Ware in a whisper as he closed his eyes,
“this — this is the first bit of luck I've had. If — if either
of you - see — Tommy Bold — in the meantime — will you
- thank him for me?”
“I'll do so certainly,” said Bodsell.
“And now," interrupted Adye, “I think I've done,” and
he stood up. “There's only one thing more. Over the
money side of the affair, when you give your evidence you
must be absolutely frank and hide nothing."
“Oh! yes," murmured Ware. “It's no use hiding any-
thing. It's all out."
“I shan't spare you, remember, in that respect. You see,
you can't get away from the letter of that woman, Mrs.
Scale, to you. She lends you £2000, and when she thinks
you're tired of her, she demands it back.”
“Yes, it was mad of me to keep that letter. I didn't
know I had. It - it was mad of me.” And Ware rose
from his chair.


278
THE WARE CASE
"You understand then," Adye went on as he moved å
little towards the door, " that over your inevitable bank-
ruptcy at that time no excuse can be made. I don't wish to
be unnecessarily harsh, Ware, but it would be absurd to try
to palliate it. Your treatment of your wife was — well,
the whole of that side of the story is as unsavoury as any-
thing could be.”
Ware lowered his eyes.
“Good-bye,” he said huskily, “and - and thank you for
all your — goodness.”
“ Your gratitude is due to your wife." And Adye looked
away.
Bodsell's bearing was different; he did not know so much.
He expressed the hope that the suffering man might soon
be stronger, while Adye opened the door.
The warder promptly beckoned to his prisoner, and Ware
slowly passed out into the grim corridor, where he was
handed over to the close guardianship of another officer,
who accompanied him back to the prison infirmary. For a
moment or two Adye stood still, and watched the slowly
retreating figure. He had seen many a man in a like posi-
tion but never one of the same status and education. It
was an awful sight. He came to the conclusion that Ware
was an ging heavily.
weak, sir," sa
“Of course he's very weak, sir," said the warder cheer-
fully, as he escorted the two lawyers to the main gate, “but
like all prisoners of his class, he's as good as possible —
gives no trouble at all, sir. There's a good deal in caste, sir.
They'll soon get him stronger in the infirmary. They'll
feed him up well, that's what they'll do, sir. He's got over
feed him up it before the trwarders saluted in their taxi-caba
Chains and keys again, warders saluted ceremoniously,
and the two silent men sat back once more in their taxi-cab.
Adye was loath to talk. He tried to sleep. He wanted
to dream of Devonshire again. But he could not.


280
THE WARE CASE
arrest. The pneumonia had naturally taxed his strength,
but the mental strain had, perhaps, shattered him more.
He was amenable to everything, and responded as well as
he could to the “fattening-up" process, but to say that he
ate well would be an exaggeration. One sensational paper
stated that he did, but, then, some of us have read of those
“hearty breakfasts” partaken of by men on the morning of
their execution.
And now the hour had come for him to face his trial.
He must put a terrific effort upon himself, and summon all
the nerve-power that remained to him.
His wife had returned from Devonshire the day before,
greatly improved by the quiet restfulness of the place, and
prepared to sit regularly in that terrible court to support him
with every ounce of strength in her body. She was greatly
cheered by the statement of Tommy Bold, whose coming
evidence was kept a profound secret and was expected to
create an enormous surprise and sensation.
Here is an instance of one of the great advantages the
English law gives to accused persons. Whereas the Pros-
ecution are bound to disclose beforehand to the Defence
all the evidence they intend to produce against the prisoner,
the Defence need disclose to the Prosecution no part of their
case at all. And the Attorney-General had no more notion
now of the existence of such a witness as Tommy Bold than
that Adye had just had that surprising interview with him
before the two famous counsel met in the dining-room of
their club.
On the opening day of the great trial, and on the follow-
ing days, the court at the Old Bailey and its precincts pre-
sented an amazing spectacle. It had been announced that
Mr. Justice Petworth would sit at 10.30. But for over an
hour previously the building was besieged. Crowds of all
classes thronged Newgate Street, and many motor omni-
buses were held up at the corner. Their top seats were
packed with men going citywards, and all of them stood up
to watch the seething mass below, and the efforts of the
large number of City police to control and regulate the
multitude.


282
THE WARE CASE
lean! Their bets upon the result would depend so much
upon that. They looked forward to a deadly speech by the
Attorney-General, and a tremendous effort by “M.A.”!
Both sexes were alike, the well-dressed men and the beau-
tifully gowned women. All classes were levelled up, the
peer with the clerk, the peeress with the typist. There was
nothing to choose between them. Every soul was there
with the same object; they had but the one great laudable
ambition - to look on at the torture of a fellow-being!
In most cases the fortunate ones in their taxi-cabs deemed
it wise to alight and walk the last fifty yards to the doors.
They elbowed their way through the crowd by the aid of the
police, to whom they showed their tickets, and many a
snapshot was taken of this celebrity and that. They formed
an extraordinary queue, these well-groomed folk, with the
look of strained anxiety on their faces, lest they might be
late for the rising of the curtain. And about the women
there was an interesting incongruity — beautiful furs upon
their backs, enormous hats upon their heads, and little
packets of sandwiches in their hands to eat in court at the
luncheon adjournment to avoid all risk of losing their places
and missing a single word.
It was a wonderful picnic!
But there was another side to the shield. At an earlier
moment of the morning a clear space was kept for the two
horses which clattered down the street with “ Black Maria "
behind them and Sir Hubert Ware inside, but hidden from
the world. The movements of the mob could be controlled,
but not their voices, and as the great, grim, brown vehicle
swept through the gates which were open to receive it, a big
shout went up from the large sporting element assembled:
“ Three cheers for Hubby Ware!” they cried with all their
might. “Hurrah! Hurrah!”
"He never failed to help a pal,” yelled one.
“ And always paid his bets,” roared another. “Good
luck to him!”
“Hurrah!” they shouted again. “Hurrah!”
And the big gates swung to.
The noise filled the streets. And to those within the


284
THE WARE CASE
Aldermen of the City of London in their fur-trimmed
gowns, and the Under-Sheriffs with their neat black suits
and swords. The “well” was occupied by the solicitors
and detectives engaged in the trial. Their bags and docu-
ments covered the table. They talked in groups together.
And immediately above it there were the long desk and
seats, the only ones unoccupied at present, which shortly
would be filled by the counsel retained in the case. But
there was one other portion of the court upon which all the
excited eyes were centred: that was the enormous wooden
dock. There it stood facing the judge's chair and waiting
for the man who was to be tried for his life. It looked
strangely empty now, weirdly so; but in a few minutes it
would be transformed, and all the anxious gazers would be
satisfied.
Ten twenty-five and the buzz of conversation increased.
Many of the people were standing up. Friends waved to
friends, acquaintances nodded to acquaintances, and the
look upon the faces was one of keen enjoyment! The
Clerk of the Court then took his place beneath the Bench,
and a nervous hush fell upon the building when the At-
torney-General and Michael Adye were seen threading their
way in front of their juniors through the crowded gangway.
All eyes were turned upon them as they took their seats
quietly and unostentatiously. Again the voices swelled.
All was in readiness. The great leaders talked quietly with
their juniors, and slowly untied their massive briefs in front
of them, and the clock said 10.29. The excitement was
intense. Only one more minute to wait. Till then still the
empty dock, still the empty bench. It was the longest
minute of all. Then suddenly with a jerk there came
through the buzz of voices a "Rat, tat, tat” upon a door-
way, and the stentorian command of “Silence! silence!”
from the usher. Every being in the court stood up. Every
soul was as quiet as death. And Mr. Justice Petworth, the
personification of dignity and strength in his red robe,
walked slowly to the Bench, bowed low to the Bar, and took
his seat. Not a whisper could be heard, and above the
silence there came the sudden sound of several footsteps.


THE WARE CASE
285
The next instant Sir Hubert Ware stepped forward firmly
to the front of the dock surrounded by his bodyguard of
warders. It was an awful moment. Every eye in the court
was riveted upon him. All heads were craned forward to
scan his face and to watch him standing in front of his
judge, at whom alone he stared. He was looking pale and
drawn, but there was a great calm and courage upon the
man, and considerable dignity in the way in which he ig-
nored the presence of the vast audience. Out came the
pencils of the draughtsmen, and concealed cameras did their
work in deadly fear of discovery.
The Clerk of the Court then read from the indictment
that Hubert Ware stood charged with wilful murder. At
its conclusion he asked him:
" Are you guilty or not guilty ?”
“Not guilty," was the quiet, determined answer which
had almost a note of defiance in its tone; and a subdued
murmur of conversation arose. The tedious routine of
swearing the jury was then followed, and finally the box
was filled by the “twelve good men and true.”
Ware removed his overcoat, which he placed over the
back of his chair, and, at a sign from one of his warders,
sat down with his arms folded.
But he had so engrossed the attention of all present that
one other tragic figure had escaped observation. That was
his wife, who, closely veiled and in company with Celia,
was conducted quietly by Charles Bodsell to a seat in the
well of the court just beneath Michael Adye.
She was there, cost her what it might, to face the ordeal to
the end.
Then amid a hush of silence the Attorney-General gravely
rose to open the case for the Crown.
The great drama had begun, and the sight-seers, male and
female alike, settled themselves down for their great treat.
ther tragic closely you Charleschael Ads


THE WARE CASE
287
“Oh, no, not at all. He merely said that he wanted his
ordinary design, which we had.”
“There is nothing remarkable about the pattern of these
rings, is there?” And he held up the two in either hand,
while every head in the court leaned forward.
“No."
“As a matter of fact they are not absolutely identical, are
they ?”
they vot quite some baesk beh may
try now
"I thought so,” said Adye with great satisfaction, as he
leaned against the desk behind him. “You're giving your
evidence very fairly, if I may say so, and I want you,
please, to tell my lord and the jury how these two rings
differ. Just take them in your hand.”
The rings were passed up to the witness, who proceeded
to examine them. He was in the act of placing his jewel-
ler's glass in his eye to do so when Adye stopped him
quickly.
"No, no, without the glass,” he said. “Isn't it plain to
the naked eye that the two rings are different?”
The witness paused for a moment while he looked at the
rings, holding them side by side.
“ Yes, they are different to some extent.”
“Ah, I thought so,” came confidentially from Adye.
“The new one at the sides is more chased than the
other.”
“Exactly! So that it would be erroneous to describe
them as identical? ”
The Attorney-General turned quickly to his opponent and
said:
“ Almost identical was the expression used, Mr. Adye.”
“ Almost identical, then, with a marked difference! I
accept my learned friend's correction. Almost identical
with a marked difference. Isn't that so ?”
“There is a difference, sir.”
“Come, come,” said Adye forcibly, “isn't there a
marked difference?”
The witness hesitated. “Wouldn't you yourself de-
scribe it as a marked difference?”


288
THE WARE CASE
The court waited a second for the answer, and the wit-
ness lifted his eyes hurredly towards the dock, where he
caught the earnest gaze of Sir Hubert Ware.
“Yes," he answered, again examining the rings, “I
should say myself there's a marked difference.”
" I'm obliged to you,” said Adye, who, with a big sweep of
his gown, resumed his seat with his eyes fixed upon the
jury.
“You say that you would say yourself there's a marked
difference,” came quietly from the Attorney-General, who
rose to re-examine the witness. “Do you mean by that that
others might not agree with you?”
“No, sir, I don't mean that.”
“What do you mean, then?"
"I mean that, speaking for myself, I should notice the
difference.”
“ As an expert?”.
“I think, Mr. Attorney,” interrupted the judge courte-
ously, “ that it would be better at this stage for the jury to
examine for themselves the two rings. It is entirely a
question for them.”
The witness passed the rings to the jury, close by him,
and some time passed while they handled them with great
interest and care.
The evidence, too, of Sir Henry Egerton was listened to
with keen attention, and it was an engrossing moment when
his friend Michael Adye cross-examined him. It was patent
to everybody that the trial was causing Egerton much pain.
His personal friendship with the Wares placed him, indeed,
in a terrible position, and he gave all his answers in a sub-
dued voice.
" Sir Henry,” said Adye, “when Sir Hubert Ware men-
tioned the fact to you that he entered all the crimes he read
in his 'book-diary' as he read them, may I take it that you
were amused?"
"I was. I thought it an extraordinary hobby."
“ You say he told you he had been reading a remarkable
French murder.".
“Yes, his expression was a'a fascinating one,' I think.”


290
THE WARE CASE
“And you would say, would you not, that his entire
attitude subsequently was consistent with his absolute inno-
cence?"
“Quite.”
Here Adye leaned forward with both hands resting on
the table while he lowered his voice to a solemn whisper :
“Wouldn't you say, Sir Henry, after your long experience,
that it was overwhelmingly inconsistent with his guilt?”
“I think I should.”
The K.C. hitched up his gown and waited for the answer
to sink into the jury's minds. He scrutinized their faces
closely. There broke forth hushed voices throughout the
court. A great impression had been made in favour of the
prisoner. And he alone appeared unmoved. His face was
unreadable.
“And now, Sir Henry," continued Adye, “I want you, if
you will, to fix your mind upon that moment when you were
playing croquet. I know you will be scrupulously fair and
very careful how you answer me. I'm taking you now to
the approximate time when that poor young man met his
death. I understood you to say that you saw Sir Hubert
Ware come out from the library on to the terrace?”
“Well, to be strictly accurate, I was unable from where I
was standing to see him actually step out on to the terrace."
“I understand. But you were able to see him a yard and
a half, say, from the window ?”
“Yes.”
“And you saw him descend the flight of stone steps op-
posite that window to a lower level of the garden when he
disappeared ?"
“I did.”
“Are you quite sure, when you say that a quarter of an
hour passed before he joined you and the Gurneys. on the
croquet lawn, that it was as much?”
“I think it was,” replied Egerton gravely.
“But are you sure?”
“ Yes, I am sure."
“Are you prepared to swear that it was as much?”
“I am."


THE WARE CASE
293
speculation become as to what the defence was to be. The
crowd in the court had already heard Adye ask the doctor
whether by any possibility the finger marks upon the throat
could have been self-inflicted, to which the police surgeon had
replied that it was exceedingly improbable, though in the case
of a man mad with desperation it might just be possible for
such marks to be made by himself. And they had noticed
also the judge's scepticism upon this point when he questioned
the witness himself.
"I want you to do yourself justice, Dr. Winter," he said.
“Remembering the bruises on the throat which you have de-
scribed as being caused, in your opinion, by considerable force
and pressure by the hand — do you seriously mean us to un-
derstand that they might by any possibility have been pro-
duced by the boy's own fingers ?”
“ It is more than improbable, my lord.”
The judge raised his eyebrows.
“That's as far as you will go, is it?" he said quietlý,
“ Very well.”
The rest of the evidence which had been given at the in-
quest and the police court was, of course, taken, and minutely
cross-examined to by Michael Adye, and the three days which
it had occupied had been a severe strain to all concerned.
Excitement as to what answer Ware was going to make to
the strange circumstantial story was enormous, and when
the hour came for his brilliant advocate to rise in his place
to give it, the stillness in the court was painful. Every one
expected one of the finest speeches ever heard at the Bar.
He was a tremendous fighter at all times, but he was never
in his life so extended as now.
He stood up slowly at the table, and in his wig and gown
he was a magnificent figure of a manly man. His face was
pale and grave, but there was a fearless confidence about his
bearing which, to those who knew him well, was even more
marked than usual. Was it because a moment before the
beautiful eyes of the woman he loved gazed up into his with a
silent appealing look which he alone in all the world could
understand ? It may have been.
“May it please your lordship. Gentlemen of the jury,"


THE WARE CASE
295
“Thank you, my lord,” he said, his refined voice being
strangely out of keeping with his awful position, “but I
would prefer to stand at present."
The reporters had their pencils ready, the judge took up
his pen, and the sight-seers waited breathlessly. All looked
upon' the handsome well-groomed man for his story upon
which his life would hang.
“Hubert Ware," rang out the voice of Adye, as the intro-
duction to his first question, “ did you kill your brother-in-
law, Eustace Ede ?"


THE WARE. CASE
297
“And she would have been justified. I'm prepared to say
in open court that I treated my wife abominably. She de-
served every consideration from me, and I gave her none."
Ware gave this outburst with great strength, and its can-
dour impressed everybody. It certainly provided the London
papers with exceptional “copy."
Steadily by degrees his skilful counsel led him through the
whole tragic story, and he gave his answers without Ainching.
The prisoner's letter to Germany was produced and read out
to the jury, the judge carefully examining the original and its
envelope, which bore the correct date, and making a careful
note in his book of this important piece of evidence.
“ Listen to me," said Adye sharply. “The learned Attor-
ney-General in opening this case described the crime with
which you stand charged as a cold blooded, cruel, and calcu-
lated one for money. Did you, as a fact, upon the very day
of your brother-in-law's death write that letter to the German
family out of solicitude for his welfare?”
“I did."
“ And was your brother-in-law to start for Hanover in
accordance with that letter on the following Monday?"
“He was.”
“Did you ever during his life bear that boy any ill-will?”
“Never."
“Were you fond of him?"
“No, I can't say that I was.”
“What's that?” asked the judge quickly. “Did I under-
stand you to say you were not fond of him?”
“ Yes, my lord. It would be affectation for me to say that
I was. He was not a likeable boy. I was always quite
friendly with him, but beyond that --” And he left the
sentence unfinished with an eloquent shrug of his shoulders.
This was one of the instances of Michael Adye's skill. He
was determined to bring out this fact in his “ examination in
chief.” He was not going to leave it to the Attorney-General,
to elicit in cross-examination, or run the risk of his not
raising the point at all. The answer had a remarkable frank-
ness about it when given in this way. Michael Adye knew
that. He knew equally shrewdly what would tell with a jury.


298
THE WARE CASE
Gradually all the points in Ware's case were unfolded, and he
gave his account without faltering. His love of criminology
was handled by Adye in the lightest possible fashion, and his
face as he put his question in that respect was lit up by a
good-humoured smile.
“ You seem to have been steeped in crime, Sir Hubert ? ”
he said. And there was loud laughter in the court.
“But possibly after this experience you will leave it severely
alone?”
“I shall indeed."
Ware was firm as to the lapse of only ten minutes from the
time he left the library to his arrival upon the croquet lawn,
accounting for all his movements at that crucial moment as
he had done to Adye in the prison, and giving the identical,
candid answer as to the very short distance from the garden-
seat to the bathing-shed which he had given before, and
which Adye had advised him to give.
But his explanation of the rings, and his having lost the
first one bathing from the same spot three days after the
calamity was, as his counsel always feared, a very different
affair.
The Attorney-General's pencil became exceedingly ener-
getic, and the judge asked Ware to repeat his explanation
so that he might make no error in taking it down. There
was no smile on the face of any one then, and many a
head shook. It was, indeed, an extraordinary explanation,
and his cross-examination upon the point was looked forward
to with immense relish by the sight-seers. They would get
value for their money then, they thought!
And they were right. Directly the Attorney-General faced
his prey he attacked this part of his evidence.
“You have told my learned friend,” he said, “that you
lost that ring three days after your brother-in-law's death
when you were bathing?"
“ Yes."
“Is that true?"
“ It is."
“Did you value the ring?"
“ I liked it.”


300
THE WARE CASE
“ Yes.”
“ Equally worried?"
“Yes.”
“Is Sir Henry Egerton accurate, then, in describing you
upon that day as being in excellent spirits ? "
“I take it to be one's duty to hide one's feelings from
one's guests sometimes. I'm glad I succeeded so well.”
“Can you, then, produce no evidence whatever to cor-
roborate your statement that you bathed upon that particular
morning?”
“I cannot."
“Did you bathe upon any other mornings about that time?"
“ No. That is how I am able to say that it was three days
after the accident that I bathed.”
“ Was it a pleasant bathe?”
“In a way,” was the weary answer.
“May I take it that it was not an unpleasant bathe ? "
“I- I know what you mean — !”
“Do you?" And the Attorney-General paused. “But
had you any feeling of discomfort at the time in bathing in
that particular spot?”
“I-I don't know. I- I can't say."
“But you were able to do it. Doesn't it strike you as
being a very extraordinary thing to be able to do?”
Ware then showed evident signs of fatigue, and asked for
a glass of water, which he drank nervously...
“May I sit down, my lord?” he asked rather faintly.
“Certainly," replied the judge as he looked at him over
his glasses.
The tortured creature leaned back wearily upon the seat
and wiped his face with his handkerchief, while his cross-
examiner remained standing, calm, relentless, and motionless.
“I think you wish me to repeat the last question?” said
the Attorney-General most politely.
“ Please."
“ Doesn't it strike you as being a very extraordinary thing
to be able to do?”
“It — it does now."
“ Did it then?"


THE WARE CASE
301
“ Er - no."
The Attorney-General waited before putting the next grave
question:
“ Isn't it a fact that you never bathed there at all after
your brother-in-law's death ? "
“ No."
“Isn't it a fact that you lost that ring in a struggle with
him when he met his death?”
The question rang out with an appalling force, and the
final answer was dramatic in the extreme. Ware staggered
to his feet, and swayed, and raised his voice to almost a
piercing cry:
“No! Before God — No!”
His teeth chattered, and his jaw shook. He made a fran-
tic effort to add more, but failed. It appeared then that the
Attorney-General was about to pursue his terrible questions
further, but Ware suddenly held up his hand to stop him.
“You must let me finish — what I was going to say,” he
gasped.
“ By all means," was the cold answer.
“ You – you have spun a web round me of — of the most
appalling kind. And there are certain facts against me which
I can't get over. I've only told you the truth, because I
can't tell you anything else. You have assailed my moral
character, and I haven't attempted to defend it. I don't
defend it!”
The judge tried to stop him, but it was impossible.
“I've been as candid as I could,” he continued wildly,
“but when you charge me with this crime you commit one
in doing so. I swear solemnly that I am innocent!”
He swayed again, and sank exhausted into the seat behind
him, while the Attorney-General quietly resumed his place.
The whole thing was terrible for every one to look upon.
Judge, jury, and the array of counsel, all were affected. And
out of the mass of sight-seers surely there must have been
some at that moment who wished that they had never come,
and vowed never to repeat the experience.
Ware drank some water, and wiped his face again, while
Michael Adye stood up to re-examine him shortly.
nt attempted have assailth, becausech


THE WARE CASE
303
with graver things than the loss of a ring. The inquest was
being held, and we could think of nothing else.”
“And although you bought the second ring upon the day
after your return to London," and Adye put this question
with a satirical smile at the Attorney-General," was there
anything in the world to prevent your motoring to Felking-
ton's, the twelve miles from Wilbury, upon any day before
that you chose to do so, if you had been in a desperate hurry
to replace the ring?”
“ Nothing whatever.”
“ Thank you. I have nothing more to ask you."
For a moment it appeared as if the judge wished to ques-
tion him, but, on seeing Ware in a state of exhaustion, he
obviously refrained from doing so, and once more was the
hunted man led back to the dock where the prison doctor
handed him some brandy and water.
“Lady Ware!” said Adye quietly.
The beautiful woman stepped forward to the witness-box
and lifted her veil to take the oath. An excited murmur ran
through the court, and hundreds of admiring eyes were fixed
upon her. There was a tale of suffering in her face, but it
remained grand in its beauty and distinction. She did not
seem to see the dock at all, and her husband, sitting there,
covered his eyes with his hand. Magdalen's voice was low,
but clear, and she answered Adye's questions well and
shortly. She corroborated Ware's statements as to her hav-
ing suggested his return to Egerton on the croquet lawn, and
his ignorance of her intention to pay his debts.
"Is what your husband said true,” asked Adye gently,
“ that you and he were not happy together?”
“Quite true," she replied, and her voice shook.
“We have heard him blame himself in that regard, so I
won't ask you your view of the matter."
“I would rather, if it could be avoided,” she said, with a
wonderful sweetness in her tone, " that you did not ask me
that. It seems so small.”
" And the promised future payments of all his debts —
was that an entirely voluntary action on your part?”
“Entirely. The first person to hear of it from me was my


304
THE WARE CASE
solicitor. I wrote to him from Switzerland and gave my in-
structions."
“Before your departure for Switzerland, when you left
your husband in England, had you spoken on the subject to
him?"
“I had not.”
“And he never asked you then to help him?"
“ No. And I think it probable that he did not think I
would do so. We- we were very wretched together — at
that time."
“Lady Ware, have you arranged to pay back those two
thousand pounds to Mrs. Scale?”
“Yes," she whispered. “Won't it suffice if I say that I
have arranged to pay all his debts ? "
“ Certainly. I take your answer," was Adye's gentle reply.
“By your brother's death you were the sole person to
benefit, were you not ?"
“I was. And from the point of view of this dreadful
story it was I and I alone who would profit by my brother's
death."
She raised her head proudly as she spoke those words, with
her gaze fixed upon the Attorney-General.
Amongst other things, Eustace's unfinished letter to Mag-
dalen was then gone into. She was quite candid in saying
that she and her brother had not been very good friends.
Further, she explained in a grief-stricken voice that on the
day of his death they had had a tiff, and that ever since she
had had an uneasy feeling that the letter meant that he wished
to end his life. She spoke of him as a weak character, and
as having a mind likely to become unbalanced, an opinion
which Celia and Gurney in their evidence strongly corrob-
orated.
As to Ware's ring, she stated positively that there
were many occasions upon which he did not wear it, and
that its absence from his finger would in no way surprise
her.
After a fairly long examination Adye put this final ques-
tion to her:
“ Lady Ware, knowing your husband as you do, and con-


306
THE WARE CASE
“Don't you think the story a somewhat remarkable one —
that he was able to do such a thing ?”
“No, I do not.”
“Do you mean that, Lady Ware?” inquired the judge
gravely.
“I do, and I will give my reason. I consider my husband
an abnormal man.”
"An abnormal man!” exclaimed the Attorney-General.
“ Yes, an abnormal man," was the defiant retort.
“ But you don't consider him so abnormal as to be able to
commit murder?”
“No," she answered loudly. “To be morally bad is one
thing. To be criminally bad is another."
The answer created a stir of sympathy in the court, and a
raucous voice from the gallery rang out —“ 'ear 'ear!”
“Silence !” exclaimed the judge sternly. “If there's the
slightest sign of anything of that sort again I'll clear the
court instantly."
The Attorney-General finally concluded his cross-examina-
tion of her. Adye asked her no further questions, and Mag-
dalen returned to her seat having won the admiration of all.
Men whispered to each other, many a woman wiped away
her tears, and the Attorney-General surreptitiously passed
across his juniors to Michael Adye a hastily pencilled note.
It read thus: “ A fine woman and a fine witness."
Adye then called: “ Thomas Bold.”
“Who? What name?” asked the Attorney-General, who,
in the hubbub had failed to hear it.
“Bold,” replied Adye, with just a suggestion of triumph
in his voice, “ B-o-1-d."
But he was a very different looking Tommy Bold from the
one who came to Adye's chambers. Charles Bodsell, the
clever solicitor, had seen to that. He was carefully shaved.
His hair was carefully brushed. A neat suit had been pro-
vided for him, and a clean collar and quiet neck-tie made a
great transformation. He looked "most respectable " as he
stood in the witness-box. The only thing that no hu-
man hands could change was the stamp of death upon his
face.


THE WARE CASE
307
“May I sit down, my lord?” he asked in a terribly weak
voice. “I-I have consumption, and it would help me.'
He then looked with that ominous glassy stare of his at the
dock.
And Ware leaned forward.
Adye then took him through his remarkable story; his
former prosperity as a bookmaker, his fall upon a charge of
obtaining money by false pretences, his subsequent decline
and poverty, and his arrival at Wilbury on the fatal date to
beg for help from Ware. He was then asked to say when he
first communicated with the prisoner's advisers, and told the
story which he was now about to repeat on oath. He gave
the date in December, and explained why he had not been
able to make any communication before. He admitted in a
frank manner that he had been in prison for two months for
theft — the theft having taken the form of food to keep him
alive, and that he only heard of the charge against Sir Hubert
Ware the day after he came out of the prison infirmary and
regained his freedom. Thus did Adye place all his cards
upon the table, and with this introduction the man proceeded
to unfold all that he did and saw upon that day at Wilbury.
Adye was careful, too, to show by his questions that he would
be corroborated by Marston Gurney and Rate.
Every one listened with wrapped attention to the book-
maker, and when, in his story, he reached the lake, there was
increased interest. Even the Attorney-General was noticed
to enter into a short but animated whispered conversation
with one of his juniors.
All that he had told Adye before in King's Bench Walk,
he repeated word for word, but more under control. The
judge was plainly startled by the tale, and constantly asked
him to repeat his answers so that he might take down the
actual words, and the jury, one and all, leaned forward and
never removed their eyes from the witness.
The only new fact which Bold added to the account which
he had given to Adye and Bodsell was that he returned to
London by train at about five — there were frequent trains
- and that he had asked the booking-clerk when he took his
ticket, what had won the St. Leger, and expressed the hope to
hter into cestEven thy, he reachattention to


308
THE WARE CASE
him that he had backed " Aeroplane.” This additional point
went to show that he could have seen what he swore he saw
before leaving Wilbury. Michael Adye in this regard volun-
teered to the judge that he had the booking-clerk present to
corroborate this should it be necessary to call him. The
astute K.C. knew well enough that with Tommy Bold's record
anything that they could secure to support the truth of his
story was important.
The Attorney-General was equally aware that if this wit-
ness was believed by the jury there was an end of the case.
He tried by every legitimate means to shatter the man's
credibility. He induced him very adroitly to make every
possible excuse for the two offences of which he had been
convicted, and then asked him pointedly:
“But you were convicted on each occasion?”
“I was," answered the weak voice.
“ Justly convicted ?"
“Well, sir, I suppose so."
“Did you plead guilty to either of the charges ?”
“ No.”
“You said they were false up till the end?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I meant to ride to the finish.”
“When you came out of prison last month how did you
first hear of this charge against the prisoner?"
“ From the paper, sir.”
“So I thought. Did you buy the paper on that day?"
“ Yes."
“With an account of the police court proceedings in it?”
The Attorney-General knew when he put the question that
there were no police court proceedings reported on that day,
but that Ware had been committed for trial before that date.
"I don't understand you, sir."
"Don't you? Don't you, with your record, know as much
about police court proceedings as anyone? Answer the ques-
tion. When you read of the case against the prisoner, was
it in a report of the police court proceedings?”
Bold paused for a moment, and then answered as strongly
as he could:
“No, sir.”


THE WARE CASE
309
The Attorney-General was disappointed.
“What was it, then?”
“A sort of paragraph just referring to the case, and saying
that you were going to prosecute and Mr. Adye defend."
Michael Adye's face broadened out into a big smile.
“Was that all it said ? "
“No, sir, not quite. It wasn't very long, but it had a
heading to it.”
“No doubt you're accurate upon that point," interrupted
the Attorney-General with a laugh. “What else had it?"
“ It just said in a short sort of way what Sir Hubert was
charged with — drowning his brother-in-law, Eustace Ede, in
the Wilbury lake. Not much more."
"And simply on the top of that you told your story to the
prisoner's advisers ? ”
“Yes.”
“When you went to give them that story you knew, did
you not, that it contradicted in detail the case for the prose-
cution?"
“Yes, sir."
"How did you know that?” And the Attorney-General
raised his voice very sharply.
“How did I know it?”
“That was my question.”
“Why, sir, from — from the paragraph I've told you of."
“ That short paragraph!”
“ Yes. That was enough for me. I had seen the young
gentleman bathing, and he was all alone.”
“ But that paragraph contained no details, and yet you tell
me that when you went to tell your story you knew that it
contradicted in detail the case for the prosecution.”
“Well, sir, so it does. The prosecution charges Sir Hu-
bert with drowning his brother-in-law. And I saw the young
gentleman bathing alone. That was enough for me."
“And on the strength of that paragraph only you go to the
prisoner's legal advisers and give them all these elaborate
details - such as the dead boy falling in the punt and hitting
his head, and the rest?”
“ Yes."


THE WARE CASE
311
lation was rife as to the approaching verdict, the prevailing
opinion being that, however brilliant the speeches from the
Bar might be, the result would depend upon the judge's
summing up and the view that he took – and many new bets
were made.


CHAPTER XXX
volfinum, the fight as greatly taxed the patience by the public
THE Saturday morning came. It was the final day of
I the great trial. The result was a rush by the public
upon an unprecedented scale. The patience of the police
and all officials was greatly taxed. The street was a pande-
monium, the fight at the doors of the great court-house re-
volting, men using their elbows and women shrieking out.
It was an indecent business.
And in the midst of it all the prisoner took his seat in the
dock for the last time. He looked grievously ill and strained.
Upon that night his fate was to be decreed. It meant free-
dom or death ; nothing less. And all the world watched him!
A great task lay before Michael Adye. He knew that,
and he felt it more than anyone else in the court. But he
rose with a quiet confidence to deliver a masterly effort amid
the hush of the crowd. His words flowed like a torrent from
the beginning to the end. He never looked at a note. One
glance at the torn woman who sat below him and he was
inspired.
“May it please your lordship. Gentlemen of the jury,"
he began, “I don't want to flatter. It's not my way. And
it isn't necessary. But I can't help saying this with all the
sincerity that's in me: the prisoner at the Bar is a fortunate
man in several respects. His prosecution is being conducted
by the Attorney-General with all the fairness which invari-
ably distinguishes him; his trial is presided over, if I may say
so with the greatest respect, by one of the learned judges of
England who is renowned for his scrupulous care and im-
partiality; his case is being tried by you twelve gentlemen in
whose hands his fate lies, and, speaking for myself, I can
only thank you for the patience you have shown me and
which I will confidently rely upon for a little longer; and
last, but by no means least, his very life is being fought for
by a woman who is his wife, a woman who, if I am any judge
312


316
THE WARE CASE
doubt of a prisoner's guilt, and that it was not incumbent
upon the defence to establish the prisoner's innocence.
“But, gentlemen," he said frigidly, “ have not the prose-
cution proved the guilt of this prisoner at the bar? Can you
disbelieve the evidence? Is it not beyond suspicion? Then
ask yourselves if that for the defence is equally reliable be-
yond the serious admissions made by the prisoner himself in
the box. As to Lady Ware, however sympathetic you and I
may feel, when we have a solemn duty to perform we must
be sensible. And although the world may often be sceptical
and cynical, I venture to say, and I think you will agree with
me, that there are few wives who, being placed in a like
position, would not have acted in exactly the same way. She
strenuously denies that there ever was any communication
between her and the prisoner as to her paying his debts after
the death of the boy. Assuming that to be true, and God
forbid that we should blame her if it is not true! — we have
seen her in the box, and we have seen what she will endure
for that man, we have seen that she possesses fine qualities,
and in that regard I am as ready to pay my tribute to her as
is my learned friend; but, gentlemen, with that generous
nature, which her husband recognized full well, is it not at
least conceivable that, communication or no communication
between them, he might have had a very shrewd opinion that
she would rescue him from his difficulties. At any rate,"
and the advocate lowered his voice impressively, “she did
rescue him. And I assert unhesitatingly that that boy's
death meant everything to that man. Gentlemen, his wife
described him as — an abnormal man. I don't know what
you thought of that definition. But it was a remarkable
one — wasn't it? And from the point of view of the prose-
cution it is the most accurate description that could be given
of him."
The Attorney-General then paused, and added in a low,
icy tone, while he leaned well forward towards the jury-
box: ,
“He-is-an - abnormal - man.”
Like his great opponent, he knew how to allow time for his
effects to travel. He waited again.


THE WARE CASE
317
But Magdalen, whose sufferings were beyond all compre-
hension, fell forward suddenly in her seat and fainted.
There was a great commotion, and eventually, amid a
tense sympathy and excitement, she was carried from the
court.
Ware stood up with difficulty in the dock to look, but he
quickly looked away again and closed his eyes. He could
not bear to look. He was not abnormal then,


320
THE WARE CASE
"I don't know, Magda. But Mr. Adye's speech moved
everyone and would take a deal of undoing.”
“Yes, yes,” she almost whispered. “It was magnificent.
Surely they could send no man to his death after such an
argument as that! But tell me — tell me, for God's sake,
that you don't think that too much has been admitted against
Hubert's character. That's been haunting me! If by any
chance my evidence could — !"
“ It commanded the admiration of all, dear. And the
frankness of Sir Hubert's own admissions would surely tell
in his favour."
The girl hid all the fears that she may have had herself,
and said anything to maintain her friend's fortitude.
“I never saw such courage," Magdalen went on. “His
final answer to the Attorney-General was a supreme moment
to me. It revolutionized with a flash the last three years of
my life. It dimmed them — blotted them out. Yes, Celia,
from that instant I forgave all — and I forgot all!”
Celia took her hand tenderly and stroked her forehead.
“Ah, you understand, don't you?” continued Magdalen.
"If ever in this world a past was atoned for, it was then.
His suffering! His agony! Think of it!”
“ All will be well, though.”
“ You're not saying that merely to prop me up? You
think so really? What's the time?”
“Twenty past ten."
“And still not a word! It's as if we were in another
hemisphere!"
But the telephone on the desk rang loudly at that moment.
It annihilated all distance. Magdalen stared at it fearfully.
“Ah-h!” she cried, “ that may be something."
Before Celia could stop her she rushed madly to the
instrument.
"I must know whether it is or not."
And with her hand trembling violently she unhooked the
receiver.
“Yes?-1-I can't hear.- No!”
She hung up the instrument again in despair.
“ Nothing?" asked Celia timidly.


THE WARE CASE
321
“ No. It was another wretched paper asking for more
photographs of Wilbury. These people are torturing me!”
But the folding doors were then opened quickly, and Rate
in his overcoat stood between them. The maddened woman
put her hand to her mouth as she looked at him.
“I've come straight from the court, my lady," said the
butler. “The judge has finished his summing up, and the
jury are out.”
“When - when did he finish?”
“ At a quarter past nine, my lady."
" Over an hour ago!”
“I waited a bit, my lady, and then the difficulty in getting
through the crowd in the street. Thousands, my lady, and
to a man, I think, they're for Sir Hubert."
Rate was human enough when he was put to it. He did
all he could to support his unhappy mistress.
“Some of them recognized me, my lady, and gave me a
cheer. Then I got a taxi to come and tell your ladyship the
news.”
“ Tell me quick! How did the judge sum up?"
“ Well, my lady, they said in court he was very fair. He
went neither one side more than the other."
“Not - !”
“ No, he sort of weighed the evidence for and against, and
said the responsibility was the jury's. At first he started off
strongly in Sir Hubert's favour. Then he seemed to go the
other way.”
“Ah, don't say that! Don't tell me that!”
“He didn't attach much importance to the theory of
suicide, my lady. He said the doctor's evidence was against
that. He evidently doesn't believe the marks on the throat
could have been done by Mr. Eustace himself. Then, my
lady, he asked a question very seriously.”
“ What — what was that?”
“If some other person did cause the marks, are you
satisfied, or are you not, that that person was the prisoner?'
Those were his very words, my lady. Then he said, my
lady, that the examination of Bold's evidence was most im-
portant. 'Do you accept it?' he asked.”


THE WARE CASE
323
ing for sensation? Every minute that the hand of the clock
jerked forward, without a sign from the jury, added to it!
And most of them would feed on it for weeks!
“ Half past ten,” replied Celia.
“An hour and a quarter out! Celia, this will kill me!”
The poor soul barely knew what she was saying.
“There, they're sitting,” she went on, “those twelve
brilliant specimens of mankind. Can't you picture them —
sitting round their hideous table, smoking their foul pipes
and considering - considering!”.
“ Still, darling, they may come to a right conclusion --"
“ But why haven't they ages ago? Why should they even
leave the jury-box?”
“Oh, they always do, dear, in a murder case, Marston
told me."
“ Always do! Always do!” she rushed on inconse-
quently. “That's the eternal cry in every department in
this sheep-like country. “They always do this — they al-
ways do that!' Why, for a change, can't they wake up and
never do it?”
She opened the window without knowing why, and there
immediately fell upon her ears the raucous voices of the
newspaper-sellers bawling in the streets.
“Waiting for the verdict! Excitement in court! Judge's
summing up! Great sensation! Speshall!”
Magdalen banged the window to drown the cries, and,
with her eyes fast closed, supported herself by the curtains.
Her very breathing could be heard quivering, and her lips
moved rapidly. They were muttering - muttering — mut-
tering, but not a word was heard. Celia watched her with
growing anxiety, and then all became plain to her. The
next instant the imploring creature was on her knees with
her arms outstretched and her hands clapsed in front of her.
And Celia turned her eyes away.
A moment later the folding-doors were opened again.
Michael Adye and Marston Gurney were there, and they
lowered their heads before what they saw.
An awful silence followed as Magdalen struggled to her
feet and looked at them wide-eyed.


324
THE WARE CASE
“ Is it - is it — over ? ” she whispered.
“Not yet,” replied Adye solemnly.
“ Why — why have you both — left the court?”
“ The suspense became unendurable," said Gurney.
“There's nothing more that I can do, Magdalen,” mur-
mured Adye. “And I wanted to know — how you were."
“I! I! No one must think of me!”
“The jury haven't returned ? ” asked Celia under her
breat not whRate leva Mas
“Not when we came away,” Gurney answered. “But
soon after Rate left I thought they wouldn't be long." .
“Why?” gasped Magdalen.
“Because they sent a note to the judge."
“A note?”
“No doubt asking some question,” explained Adye gently.
“ The judge sent back his reply from his private room.”
“ How do you know?”.
“I saw the Clerk of the Court bring it through."
“ And that generally means they agree soon afterwards,
doesn't it, Adye?” asked Gurney quickly.
“ Very often.”
“But here it means nothing of the kind,” exclaimed
Magdalen. “Ah! — Suppose they can't agree?”
No one answered.
“ What then? Tell me!”
“ There would have to be a fresh trial," replied Adye.
“Oh-h! He would have to go through this again?”
“Magdalen," he went on, and he was barely able to speak,
“it's dreadful for me to have to increase your suffering. I
-I will — go back — to the court."
“No, no — don't leave me — don't leave me! — I may —
need you greatly - I mean — if — if they find Hubert —!”
“You musn't speak of that yet," was the feeling reply.
“ Then you think there's a hope — a real hope?”
“ There's — always a hope.”
An extraordinary change then came to Magdalen. Her
pride suddenly rushed to her rescue, and a feeling that her
outward sufferings must be terrible to Adye. Women at the
most solemn moments can think of these things somehow.


THE WARE CASE
325
Their self-control and their unselfishness can be superhuman.
She drew herself up and walked to the doors during the
silence that followed, and Celia asked her where she was
going.
“ Just to move about a little,” she said bravely. “I-
I'm restless.”
She opened the doors, and, with Celia supporting her,
turned to the two men.
“You'll find cigars and cigarettes there,” she said with a
wan smile. “I'll come back directly."
Then she held out her delicate hand to Michael Adye, who
hid it in his with a strength which she understood. She
then closed the doors, and after this strange effort, put upon
herself by her thought for others, she paced the hall wildly
for five minutes by the clock, and never spoke.


CHAPTER XXXII
CUCH was the torture of the two chief actors in the
drama, the woman lashed to the breaking-point, and the
man in the cells sitting numb with the sweat of agony on his
face — waiting for life or death.
As to the others, the great advocate who had defended
him with all the strength of his mind and body, and whose
very heart-strings had been torn from him by the woman he
loved, sat silent in her morning-room. Marston Gurney
remained with him, but he did not realize it. What was the
future to be? Had he done his best? Had he won — and
lost? And grave doubts afflicted him.
And, then, the judge sitting in his private room at the
great court-house, the man of power who had tried to use
it well. Had he omitted anything important in the prison-
er's favour? Had he given due and impartial consideration
to the defence as well as to the prosecution ? Had he given
the same prominence to both sides of the case? Had his
complete and calm exposition of the story been of that as-
sistance to the jury which he had striven conscientiously, in
accordance with his great office, to make it?
Would his summing up lead them to the pronouncement
of a just verdict? Had he held the scales evenly? Had he
done his utmost to fulfil that splendid duty which he had
been appointed to discharge — the duty of seeing that jus-
tice is done? These were but a few of the questions which
were passing through his mind. But does a single member
of the crowd realize the burden of such a trial as this to a
judge? To them it is more than likely that he begins and
ends with red and ermine. Why, a man's life is literally in
his hands! And that life must be forfeit if it is just. Mr.
Justice Petworth was experienced, but to him it was by far
the most momentous case that he had ever tried. He felt it
326


THE WARE CASE
327
acutely. Underneath the red and ermine there was a heart,
and there were nerves. The first would often appear upon
his robe sleeve, but the last were hidden away securely. It
required an intimate to see when he was strained, and at his
moment of waiting he was strained enormously. He wished
nobody to remain near him. Ordinarily he detested solitude.
He had taken off his wig and thrown it on the table, and his
clerk, who withdrew in silence immediately afterwards, had
brought some tea and bread and butter. But though the
tea was taken he could eat nothing. Again, as a rule he was
a pipe smoker only, but under these conditions the clerk
never failed to place a box of cigarettes in readiness for him.
Two or three upon this night he smoked half through as the
time of waiting for the verdict dragged on. And up and
down the small room he walked, like many another hu-
man being whose mind is obsessed with a great thing. At
times he stopped, and from fatigue lay down upon the
leather-covered sofa. Often he closed his eyes, only to open
them at the slightest sound. Then another tramp, and many
a heavy sigh. What was his duty to be? Was he going to
be able to set that man free of this charge for ever? Or was
he about to pronounce that awful doom of death, the passing
of which invariably shook him grievously? Everything has
its price; and make no mistake about it - a judge pays
heavily.
The written question from the jury was brought to him by
the Clerk of the Court when he was trying to rest upon the
sofa. These questions, asking for the guidance of the im-
partial man, are sometimes foolish and often unnecessary.
Generally they demand a carefully worded answer. The
question here was —“ Ought we to disregard altogether Bold's
evidence on the ground of his record?”
Mr. Justice Petworth read it silently, and sat down at the
table. He was about to write his reply at once, but he
stopped and, ignoring the presence of the messenger, paced
the room in deep thought two or three times. It was in a
sense a vital question demanding a vital answer. Again he
seated himself at the table and wrote —“My answer is in the
negative, but as I have said to you, his record cannot be


328
THE WARE CASE
ignored. You must give it your full consideration while
testing the accuracy of his evidence.”
He read it through carefully and placed it in an envelope,
and the Clerk of the Court took it to the jury-room, and
could hear through the door, before he opened it, an excited
altercation. Some of the twelve men were fighting verbally
over the man's life.
Thus each actor in the drama was filling his part to the
best of his ability. It was a stupendous ordeal for all.
Adye had not opened his lips to Gurney since Magdalen
left them, and at the end of a long five minutes she re-
turned to the morning-room. Gurney caught sight of his
wife through the open doors and joined her, leaving Mag-
dalen and Adye alone.
This was the first time that they had been able to look into
each other's eyes after the great effort of the K.C. for her
husband.
She then sat down near the fire and stared at it.
“I—I don't know how — to thank you," she murmured.
“You're not to try to do that.” And with the words he
took her hand in his. It was the grasp of a real friend.
“I think you know how I'm feeling for you."
“Yes — I know,” she replied, as she removed her hand.
“But very likely you don't realize — all that's going through
my mind.”
“I think I can."
“Not all. I – I'm a changed woman since — since all
this — a different being. It's not I who am responsible for
it — but my husband.”
“How do you mean?” he asked steadily.
“This — this awful suffering of his is his — atonement
for all that is past.”
“ All that is - past?”
“Yes, for all. I—I am his sole protector now, and I
forgive him everything! If justice could bring him back to
me I – I am ready to begin — again. Do you understand?”
Michael Adye looked out in front of him fixedly.
“Yes, Magdalen,” he answered.


THE WARE CASE
331
It was an immense moment in the lives of the three.
The wife looked at the husband, bent and ill from the
strain, and in his face were the years which the last few
hours had given him. And then, as ever, the woman in her
was revealed. All that she had endured was forgotten.
There was only one sufferer in the world, and she ministered
to him.
She took a cushion from the sofa and placed it gently
behind his back.
She drew a footstool from the fireplace and put it at his
feet.
“Thank you. I _" and his weak voice died away.
“Don't try to speak," she answered tenderly.
And he closed his eyes feebly, while Rate came through
from the dining-room, carrying upon a tray an opened bottle
of champagne, two glasses and some biscuits, and placing
them upon the table by Ware's side.
“I-I brought this for Sir Hubert, my lady. I think
your ladyship should make him take it," he said falter-
ingly.
He then filled one glass with the wine.
“ Thank you, Rate," said Magdalen through her tears.
“My lady, I-1-1-".
But Rate's usual volubility forsook him, and his voice
trembled. The next instant Magdalen pressed his hand in
hers. Here again were classes levelled up. Then the hus-
band and wife were left alone once more.
“Rate's right, Hubert. Drink this." And she handed
him the glass.
“What?” he asked quite dazed. “No— no- I don't
thing - I can."
“ Try.”
“Perhaps — presently."
“ Have you had — food, Hubert ? "
“No, no," was the faint reply. “Everything — failed
me — to-day. I - couldn't."
“You've had nothing?"
“ Yes — something — at eight this morning. I've — I've
not been able to manage anything - since. They -- they


THE WARE CASE
333
"Sit quietly, Hubert,” she entreated. “You're not strong
enough to Try to stay quite quiet for a little — while I
talk to you. I want to talk to you. You have only to listen.
We must fight to forget all that is past, you and I. We have
to start afresh — begin all over again.”
Her tone was one of exquisite gentleness, and he looked
out before him strangely.
“ Start - afresh?” he muttered.
“Yes — from to-night.”
“How — how can I do that?"
“ Not alone, I know.''
His breathing became quicker as he looked at her fearfully.
“ Magdalen!” he cried. “What do you mean?”
“Only that two months ago here — in this room — you
asked me if we couldn't start afresh.”
“ That was two months ago," was his excited answer. “I
was stronger then! I was different then! I was another
man! I didn't see myself! I didn't know myself!”
“And I refused, Hubert.”
“ And you were right. My God, you were right!”
" At any rate I shouldn't be now. Listen, Hubert — listen.
I- I have to repent too."
She placed her hands tenderly upon his arms.
“ You repent!” he cried. “What for ? "
“I don't think I've helped you enough. Things might
have been different if I had been different."
“You're mad,” he shouted. “You don't know what you're
saying.”
“Hubert,” she went on, clutching him, "the past is
buried.”
“ The past!”
“ Yes, and for ever, in my eyes. I'll paint it as black as
you like. I'll spare you nothing, if you wish. But it's
buried. Try to understand me, won't you? I—I'm sorry
if I've ever been hard — unsympathetic — or anything like
that. But I've tried to undo it — these two months. I've
tried to undo it. You — you don't know what they've been
to me; the waiting, the agony of suspense, the gaze of every
eye upon me, a figure pointed at whenever it dared to venture
I She placepent.
I've had been youll


334
THE WARE CASE
out, an object of pity, curiosity — and everything that's un-
endurable. But I probably deserved it.”
He tried to stop her, but it was impossible.
“ I told you,” she rushed on, “ that it would require a great
something from outside to rekindle the sympathy between us.
Hubert, hasn't it come? Whatever I had to suffer I suffered
for you because I knew the cruelty of the charge. I knew it
was a lie! I knew it would be proved a lie!”
“Yes, I've been found innocent! Innocent!” And he
laughed foolishly.
“ At times I felt I could bear no more, Hubert, that I
should go mad. But there was one thing that kept me sane;
that was the thought of your suffering. Mine was nothing.
One great thing stood out before me — the thought of you.
I revolted against it - against the injustice of it all, the in-
famy. It was only a devil who could send it! But you're
innocent,” she cried out vehemently through her sobs.
“You're proved to be innocent, as I knew you to be. And,
Hubert, you've expiated all that is past. You've atoned for
all !”
Her outburst was unbearable to him. He could endure
no more. Every word she uttered stabbed him! She was
too good to be near him! He sprang up wildly from the
chair with her hands holding him, and then shrieked out as
he threw her from him:
“No, no! I did it!”


CHAPTER XXXIII
errurrah
W HEN Adye left them together he met Gurney and
V Celia in the hall, and they went to the library, where
Rate gave them an excited description of the scene at the
Old Bailey when the verdict was returned. How, when the
words “not guilty” were uttered by the foreman, Ware fell
back into the arms of the warders, how there was such a
burst of cheering that had never before been heard in an
English Court of justice, and how the crowd in the street
took it up. The mob had gone mad. Ware was a popular
favourite with the large sporting element assembled, and
they intended to give vent to their feelings. And Rate was
right. It was an unparalleled demonstration.
“Hubby Ware! Three cheers for Hubby Ware!” they
yelled. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! And don't forget 'is
lady! Three cheers for 'er, boys! Hurrah!” And the
street thundered with the roar.
No one who witnessed the scene will ever forget it. And
when at last Ware drove off exhausted in a taxi-cab almost
in the arms of Rate, the vehicle was surrounded and then
pursued by the shouting roughs. Only one actor in the
drama was accorded a different reception. That was Inspec-
tor Watkin who, on being recognized at an entrance, was
greeted with groans. Advancement had slipped from him at
the finish, and he showed it in his face. Yet Inspector Wat-
kin was right. Ware was guilty, and Magdalen now knew
it. And upon this charge, according to the law of England,
he was a free man for ever.
The terrible revelation nearly killed Magdalen. She reeled
against a chair which she clutched automatically for support,
and remained where she was like a figure of stone unable to
move. She was stunned. Not a sound came from her but
the chattering of her teeth and a fight for breath. No crea-
ture's reason has ever been so near to snapping. She stood
in that la who wiWith
335


336
THE WARE CASE
there transfixed, as if nailed to the floor, and her eyes stared
out into vacancy from her death-like face. Ware peered at
her wildly. His look was half-sober, half-mad, but terror
underlay it. And he laughed mirthlessly.
“What's — what's up, eh?” he whispered while he waited
vainly for an answer. “Don't stare at me like that!” And
he went nearer to her. “What — what have I—? What
have I said? Can't you answer? I -- I'm not myself. I-
I'm drunk.” And he still waited. “Do you hear me? I'm
drunk.”
She shook violently, but no word came. With her eyes
closed in agony she moved her head slowly and unbelievingly
in a dazed fashion from side to side, and then with the
feeblest movement of her hand she tried to point to the door.
Abject terror seized hold of the man and he took her
roughly by the wrist.
“What are you going to do?” he cried fearfully, but she
remained still.“ Answer me, will you? - Will you tell? -
Answer me! — Will you tell?”
But she merely shook her head.
“Yes, you will tell,” he exclaimed. “My guilt is stamped
all over your face. You'll never live this lie!”
Then lifting her hands mechanically she smoothed them
down her face as if to clear it of something. She meant
that the world must never know.
The next instant Ware inconsequently grabbed a cigarette
from the table and lighted it as he stared at her. He then
took a fiendish delight in setting fire to all the matches in
the stand and watching them flare up. And he laughed
hideously like a madman.
“But tell, if you like," he shrieked. “They can't touch
me, they can't touch me! I'm free — free! I've won! I've
cheated them! Ha! ha! ha!” Then waving his cigarette
in the air he rushed into the dining-room and slammed the
door behind him. The noise seemed to restore Magdalen's
consciousness to some extent. She stood alone where she
was, and tried to form some words. The struggle was des-
perate, and she relieved her feelings momentarily by one
agonized cry which she quickly smothered in fear. She beat


338
THE WARE CASE
“ Magdalen," he said, “I saw your husband in the hall a
moment ago. Where has he gone?”
“I don't know.”
“I scarcely think he was in a condition to be left.”
She closed her eyes in pain.
“Magdalen,” he said solemnly, “what has taken place be-
tween you and him?”
“ N-n-nothing."
“What has passed between you two?" And his voice
sank to a whisper.
“Nothing. I-I said nothing."
“Since I left you both in this room a few minutes ago ?”
“ Nothing, nothing, I tell you."
“Yes, something has.” And he raised his voice. "And
something that's damnable. It's in your face. You can't
hide it from me. If you won't tell me, I'll drag it from
him!” With that he rose to his feet, and she clung to his
arm.
“No, no," she cried.
“Yes, by heaven I will! Where has he gone?”
“I— I'm afraid to think. I don't know. Stay! Stay
here! If you left me at this moment I couldn't be answer-
able for what I—!”
He then took hold of both her hands and looked down
into her eyes.
“I don't think there's any need for you to tell me,” he
whispered.
“What — what have I said?”
“You've said nothing.”
“ This — this has robbed me of my reason, Michael, I
believe.”
“Oh!”
"I — I'm weak - weak as a child. But I - I want to do
right if — I can.”
“What are you going to do?” And he held her hand
passionately.
"I— I don't know. I must think - if I can think. Help
me, will you? You're strong and good, Michael, and you're
the only friend like that I have to lean upon.”


THE WARE CASE
341
through her tears she added: “There — there is my final
answer for your sake and for mine. And Michael — it's
because I love you."
So that, when on the brink of the great abyss, she did
what not every woman would, or could have done. “If thou
faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small.”
ohtly, and madde. He chuckled. When he was made
But during this great temptation, in another part of the
house the other side of the drama was being played.
When Ware passed through into the dining-room with his
cigarette he did not remain there long. He came out wildly
into the hall where Adye had caught sight of him. And then
he dashed up the stairs. A footman met him there, and was
terrified by what he saw. A mad stare was in his eyes, and
his movements were supernaturally quick and powerful.
When he reached the window upon the half-landing he
stopped and looked at it foolishly, and took the curtain in
his hand. Its texture amused him, and made him laugh
harshly. The next instant he pressed his cigarette upon the
silk lightly, and made it smoulder. It was a wonderful game
to see the hole it made. He chuckled as he left it, and dashed
past the footman back into the hall. When he was there
the front-door was opened, and a cheer from without made
him laugh again. The bell had been answered, and Tommy
Bold hurried into the hall.
“I must see you,” said the bookmaker hoarsely.
And Ware laughed loudly on seeing him.
Bold opened the dining-room door, and the two passed
into the room when the door was immediately closed again.
“I had — to come and see you,” gasped the bookmaker as
he wrung Ware's hand, who chuckled foolishly as he looked
at him. “I saved you! I saved you! I told you at the
time I'd never forget what you did for me. And — and I
didn't forget! But I was nearly caught by that Attorney-
General. Yes, he nearly had me! It was you I saw in the
punt — you! But I was too sharp for the Attorney-General,
eh? Jupiter ! he's clever, though. He nearly got me over
the newspapers. Why, after I came out from gaol I got
hold of 'em all, and made up my story! But I've saved you,