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THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY





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THE HUNT BALL
MYSTERY
º
--
BY 2 A º -
SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, Bt.
Author of "A Prince of Lovers,” “The Mystery of the
Unicorn,” etc., etc.
E R E N T A N O'S
N E W YOR K
1918
(PRINTED IN ENGLAND.)
- -
t -
- * * *
** *


- " **-*r-sºe-
C NEW YORK
º T
PUBLIC LIBRARY
, 8245 69,
-------
|TILDEN Foundations
R 1918 L


:
VII
VIII
IX
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
Contents
= PAGE
THE INTRUDER . - - - - - 7
THE STAINED Flowers - - . 17
THE STREAK ON THE CUFF - . 29
THE MISSING GUEST . - - . 37
THE LOCKED ROOM . - . . . 49
THE Mysters of CEEMENT. HENSHAw. 62
THE INCREQUltry of Gervase HENshaw 73
Kelson's PéRELExity - - . 89
The Closiſ of Nică, “ . . . IOI
AN ALARMING DISCOVERY . - ... III
GIFFORD’s COMMISSION - - . I24
HAD HENSHAW. A CLUE 2 . - . I39
WHAT GIFFoRD SAw IN THE WooD . I5o
GIFFORD’s PERPLEXITY - - . I58
ANOTHER DISCOVERY . - - . I65
AN ExPLANATION - - - . I72
5


6 CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
XVII WHAT A GIRL SAw . - - . 184
XVIII THE LOST BROOCH . - - . 196
XIX IN THE CHURCHYARD . - - . 207
XX AN INvoluntary EAvesDROPPER . 217
XXI GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY . . 227
XXII How GIFFORD ESCAPED . - . 233
XXIII EDITH MoRRISTON'S STORY. º . 247
XXIV. How THE STORY ENDED . - . 26o
XXV DEFIANCE . - - - - . 272
XXVI Issue Joined . - - - . 278
XXVII GIFFORD's Reward . . . . . . . . . 297
-


CHAPTER I
THE INTRUDER
* - IM afraid it must have gone on in the
van, sir.”
“Gone on l’” Hugh Gifford exclaimed .
angrily. “But you had no business to send
the train on till all the luggage was put out.”
“The guard told me that all the luggage
for Branchester was out,” the porter pro-
tested deprecatingly. “You see, sir, the
train was nearly twenty minutes late, and
in his hurry to get off he must have over-
looked your suit-case.” -
“The very thing I wanted most,” the
owner returned. “I say, Kelson,” he went
on, addressing a tall, soldierly man who
strolled up, “a nice thing has happened;
the train has gone off with my evening clothes.”
Kelson whistled. “Are you sure ?”
“Quite.” Gifford appealed to the porter,
who regretfully confirmed the statement.
“That's awkward to-night,” Kelson
7


8. THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
commented with a short laugh of annoy-
ance. “Look here, we'd better interview
the station-master, and have your case
wired for to the next stop. I am sorry, old
fellow, I kept you talking instead of letting
you look after your rattle-traps, but I was
so glad to see you again after all this long
time.”
“Thanks, my dear Harry, you've nothing
to blame yourself about. It was my own
fault being so casual. The nuisance is that
if I don’t get the suit-case back in time I
shan’t be able to go with you to-night.”
“No,” his friend responded ; “that
would be a blow. And it's going to be a
ripping dance. Dick Morriston, who hunts
the hounds, is doing the thing top-hole.
Now let's see what the worthy and obliging
Prior can do for us.”
The station-master was prepared to do
everything in his power, but that did not
extend to altering the times of the trains or
shortening the mileage they had to travel.
He wired for the suit-case to be put out at
Medford, the next stop, some forty miles on,
and sent back by the next up-train. “But


THE INTRUDER 9
that,” he explained, “is a slow one and is
not due here till 9.47. However, I’ll send
it on directly it arrives, and you should get
it by ten o'clock or a few minutes after.
You are staying at the Lion ?” -
“Yes.” -
“Not more than ten or twelve minutes'
drive. I’ll do my best and there shall be
no delay.”
The two men thanked him and walked
out to the station yard, where a porter waited
with the rest of Gifford's luggage.
“There is a gentleman here going to the
Lion,” he said with a rather embarrassed
air; “I told him your fly was engaged,
sir; but he said perhaps you would let him
share it with you.”
Kelson looked black. “I like the way
Some people have of taking things for granted.
Cheek, I call it. He had better wait or walk.”
“The gentleman said he was in a hurry,
sir,” the porter observed apologetically.
“No reason why he should squash us up
in the fly,” Kelson returned. “I’ll have
a word with the gentleman. Where is he 7"
“I think he is in the fly, sir.”


IO THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“The devil he is We'll have him out,
Hugh. Infernally cool.” And he strode
off towards the waiting fly.
“Better see what sort of chap he is before
you go for him, Harry,” Gifford said depre-
catingly as he followed. He knew his
masterful friend's quick temper, and antici-
pated a row.
“If you don't mind, this is my fly, sir,”
Kelson was saying as Gifford reached him.
“The porter told me it was the Golden
Lion conveyance,” a strong, deeply modu-
lated voice replied from the fly.
“And I think he told you it was engaged,”
Kelson rejoined bluffly.
“I did not quite understand that,” the
voice of the occupant replied in an even
tone. “I am sorry if there has been any
misunderstanding ; but as I am going to
the hotel— ”
“That is no reason why you should take
our fly,” Kelson retorted, his temper rising
at the other's coolness. “I must ask you
to vacate it at once,” he added with heat.
“How many of you are there 2 ” The
man leaned forward showing in the door-


THE INTRUDER II
way a handsome face, dark almost to swarthi-
ness. “Only two 2 Surely there is no
need to turn me out. You don’t want to
play the dog in the manger. There is room
for all three, and I shall be happy to con-
tribute my share of the fare.”
“I don't want anything of the sort—”
Kelson was beginning angrily when Gifford
intervened pacifically.
“It is all right, Harry. We can squeeze
in. The fellow seems more or less a gentle-
man ; don’t let's be churlish,” he added
in an undertone.
“But it is infernal impudence,
protested.
“Yes; but we don’t want a row. It is
not as though there was another conveyance
he could take.”
“All right. I suppose we shall have to
put up with the brute,” Kelson assented
grudgingly. “But I hate being bounced
like this.”
Gifford took a step to the carriage-door.
“I think we can all three pack in,” he said
civilly. -
“I’ll take the front seat, if you like,”
yy
Kelson


I2 THE HUNT BALL MystERY,
the stranger said, without, however, show-
ing much inclination to move.
“Oh, no ; stay where you are,” Gifford
answered. “I fancy I am the smallest of
the three ; I shall be quite comfortable there.
Come along, Harry.”
With no very amiable face Kelson got in
and took the vacant seat by the stranger.
His attitude was not conducive to geniality,
and so for a while there was silence. At
length as they turned from the station ap-
proach on to the main road the stranger
spoke. His deep-toned voice had a musical
ring in it, yet somehow to Gifford's way of
thinking it was detestable. Perhaps it was
the speaker's rather aggressive and, to a
man, objectionable personality, which made
it seem so.
“I am sorry to inconvenience you,” he
said, more with an air of saying the right
thing than from any real touch of regret.
“On an occasion like this they ought to
provide more conveyances. But country
towns are hopeless.”
“Oh, it is all right,” Gifford responded
politely. “The drive is not very long.”


THEY INTRUDER I3
“A mile 2 ” The man's musical inflec-
tion jarred on Gifford, who began to wonder
whether their companion could be a profes-
sional singer. One of their own class he
certainly was not.
“I presume you gentlemen are going to
the Hunt Ball 2 ” he asked.
“Yes,” Gifford answered.
“Rather a new departure having it in a
private house,” the man said. “Quite a
sound idea. I have no doubt Morriston will
do us as well—much better than we should
fare at the local hotel or Assembly Rooms.”
“Are you going 2 ” They were the first
words Kelson had uttered since the start,
and the slight surprise in their tone was
not quite complimentary. It must have
so struck the other, seeing that he replied
with a touch of resentment : -
“Yes. Why not ?”
“No reason at all,” Kelson answered,
“except that I don't remember to have seen
you out with the Cumberbatch.”
“I dare say not,” the other rejoined
easily. “It is some years since I hunted
with them. I’m living down in the south


14 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
now, and when I'm at home usually turn
out with the Bavistock. Quite a decent little
pack, faute de mieux ; and Bobby Amphlett,
who hunts them, is a great pal of mine.”
“I see,” Kelson observed guardedly.
“Yes, I believe they are quite good as far
as they go.”
The stranger gave a short laugh. “They,
or rather a topping old dog-fox, took us an
eleven mile point the other day, which was
good enough in that country. Being in
town I thought I would run down to this
dance for old acquaintance' sake. Dare
say one will meet some old friends.”
“No doubt,” Kelson responded dryly.
“As you have been good enough to ask
me to share your fly,” the man observed,
with a rather aggressive touch of irony, “I
may as well let you know who I am. My
name is Henshaw, Clement Henshaw.”
“Any relation to Gervase Henshaw 2 ”
Gifford asked.
“He is my brother. You know him 2 ”
“Only by reputation at my profession,
the Bar. And I came across a book of his
the other day.”


z
THE INTRUDER I5
“Ah, yes. Gervase scribbles when he
has time. He is by way of being an authority
on criminology.”
“And is, I should say,” Gifford added
civilly.
“Yes; he is a smart fellow. Has the
brains of the family. I'm all for sport and
the open-air life.”
“And yet,” thought Gifford, glancing at
the dark, rather intriguing face opposite to
him, “you don't look a sportsman. More a
viveur than a regular open-air man, more at
home in London or Paris than in the stubbles
or covert.” But he merely nodded accep-
tance of Henshaw's statement.
“My name is "Kelson,” the soldier said,
supplying an omission due to Henshaw's
talk of himself. “I have hunted this coun-
try pretty regularly since I left the Service.
And my friend is Hugh Gifford.”
“Gifford P Did not Wynford Place where
we are going to-night belong to the Giffords?”
Henshaw asked, curiosity overcoming tact.
“Yes,” Gifford answered, “to an uncle
of mine. He sold it lately to Morriston.”
“Ah; a pity. Fine old place,” Henshaw


I6 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
observed casually. “Naturally you know
it well.”
“I have had very good times there,”
Gifford answered, with a certain reserve as
though disinclined to discuss the subject with
a stranger. “I have come down now also
for old acquaintance'sake,” he added casually.
- “I see,” Henshaw responded. “Not
altogether pleasant, though, to see an old
family place in the hands of strangers.
Personally, when a thing is irrevocably gone,
as, I take it, Wynford Place is, I believe in
letting it slide out of one's mind, and having
no sentiment about it.”
“No doubt a very convenient plan,” Grf-
ford replied dryly. “All the same, if I can
retrieve my evening kit, which has gone
astray, I hope to enjoy myself at Wynford
Place to-night without being troubled with
undue sentimentality.”
“Good,” Henshaw responded with what
seemed a half-smothered yawn. “Regret for
a thing that is gone past recall does not
pay ; though as long as there is a chance of
getting it I believe in never calling oneself
beaten. Here we are at the Lion.”
º


CHAPTER II
THE STAINED FLOWERS
* * HAT do you think of our acquaint-
ance 7" Gifford said as they
settled down in the private room of Kelson,
whomade the Golden Lion his hunting quarters.
“Not much. In fact, I took a particular .
dislike to the fellow. Wrong type of sports-
man, eh?”
“Decidedly. Fine figure of a man and
good-looking enough, but spoilt by that
objectionable, cock-sure manner.”
“And I should say a by no means decent
character.”
“A swanker to the finger-tips. And
that implies a liar.”
“Not worth discussing,” Kelson said.
“He goes to-morrow. I made a point of
inquiring how long he had engaged his room
for. One night.”
“Good. Then we shan’t be under the
17 B


I8 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
ungracious necessity of shaking him off. I
can't tell you how sick I am, Harry, at the
loss of my things.”
“No more than I am, my dear fellow.
If only a suit of mine would fit you. But
that's hopeless.”
They both laughed ruefully at the idea,
for Captain Kelson looked nearly twice the
size of his friend.
“We'll hope they'll arrive in time for you
to see something of the fun at any rate,”
Kelson said. “I’m in no hurry; I'll wait
with you.”
“You will do nothing of the sort, Harry,”
Gifford protested. “Do you think I can't
amuse myself for an hour or two alone 2
You'll go off at the proper time. Absurd to
wait till every decent girl's card is full.”
“I don't like it, Hugh.”
“Nor do I. But it is practically my
fault in not looking sharper after my lug-
gage, and better one should suffer than two.”
So it was arranged that Captain Kelson
should go on alone and his guest should
follow as soon as his clothes turned up and
he could change into them,


THE STAINED FLOWERS 19
That settled, they sat down to dinner.
“Tell me about the Morristons, Harry,”
Gifford said. “He is a very good fellow,
isn't he 2 ”
“Dick Morriston 2 One of the best.
Straight goer to hounds and straight in every
other capacity, I should say. You know
they used to live at Friar's Norton, near here,
before they bought your uncle's place.”
“Yes, I know. What is the sister like 2 ”
“A fine, handsome girl,” Kelson answered,
without enthusiasm. “Rather too cold
and statuesque for my taste, although I
have heard she has a bit of the devil in her.
Quite a sportswoman, and as good after
hounds as her brother. They say she had
a thin time of it with her step-mother, and
has come out wonderfully since the old lady
died. Lord Painswick, who lives near here,
is supposed to be very sweet on her. Per-
haps the affair will develop to-night. The
ball will be rather a toney affair.”
“Morriston has plenty of money 2 ”
“Heaps. And the sister is an heiress
too. The old man did not nearly live up to
his income and there were big accumulations.”


20 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Which enabled the son to buy our pro-
perty,” Gifford said with a tinge of bitter-
ness. “Well, it might have been worse.
Wynford has not passed into the hands of
some Jew millionaire or City speculator, but
has gone to a gentleman, a good fellow and
a sportsman, eh?”
“Yes; Dick Morriston is all that. As
the place had to go, you could not have found
a better man to succeed your people.”
When the time came to start for the ball
Gifford went down to see his friend off and
to repeat his orders concerning the imme-
diate delivery of his suit-case when it should
arrive. Henshaw was in the hall, bulking
big in a fur coat and complaining in a master-
ful tone of , the unpunctuality of his fly.
A handsome fellow, Gifford was constrained
to acknowledge, and of a strong, positive
character; the type of man, he thought,
who could be very fascinating to women—
and very brutal.
He dropped his rather bullying manner
as he caught sight of the two friends; and,
noticing Gifford's morning clothes, made a
casually-sympathetic remark on his bad luck.


THE STAINED FLOWERS 2I
“Oh, I shall come on when my things
arrive, which ought to be soon,” Gifford
responded coldly, disliking the man and his
rather obvious insincerity.
“We might have driven over together,”
Henshaw said, addressing Kelson. “But I
hardly cared to propose it after the line you
took at the station.”
There was an unpleasant curl of the lip
as he spoke the words almost vindictively, as
though with intent to put Kelson in the
wrong. º
But his sneer had no effect on the ex-
Cavalryman. **
“I am driving over in my own trap,”
he replied coolly, ignoring the other's intent.
“You will be a good deal more comfortable
in a closed carriage.”
“Decidedly,” Henshaw returned with a
laugh. “I am not so fond of an east wind
as to get more of it than can be helped. And,
after all, it is best to go independently to
an affair of this sort. One may get bored
and want to leave early.”
Kelson nodded with a grim appreciation
of the man's trick of argument, and went


22 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
out to his waiting dog-cart. Henshaw's
fly drove up as Gifford turned back from the
door. -
“I suppose we shall see you towards mid-
night,” he said lightly as he passed Gifford,
his tone clearly suggesting his utter indiffer-
ence in the matter.
“I dare say,” Gifford replied, and as he
went upstairs he heard an order given for
“Mr. Henshaw's fire in number 9 to be
kept up against his return.”
Alone in the oak-panelled sitting-room
Gifford settled down to wait for his clothes.
He skimmed through several picture-papers
that were lying about, and then took up a
novel. But a restless fit was on him, and
he could not settle down to read. He
threw aside the book and began thinking of
the old property which his uncle had muddled
away, and recalling the happy times he had
spent there from his schooldays onwards.
Memories of the rambling old house and its
park crowded upon him. By force of one
circumstance or another he had not been
there for nearly ten years, and a great impa-
tience to see it again took hold of him. He


*
THE STAINED FLOWERS (23
looked at the clock. At the best, supposing
there were no hitch, his suit-case could
hardly arrive for another hour and a half.
Wynford Place was a bare mile away, per-
haps twenty minutes' walk; the night was
fine and moonlight, he was getting horribly
bored in that room ; he would stroll out
and have a look at the outside of the old
place. After all, it was only the exterior
that he could expect to find unaltered;
doubtless the Morristons with their wealth
had transformed the interior almost out of
his knowledge. Anyhow he would see that
later. Just then he simply longed for a sight
of the ancient house with its detached tower
and the familiar landmarks. -
Accordingly he filled a pipe, put on a thick
overcoat and a golf cap and went out, leav-
ing word of his return within the hour.
But it was a good two hours before he
reappeared, and the landlord, who met him
with the news that the missing suit-case
had been awaiting him in his room since
twenty minutes past ten, was struck by a
certain peculiarity in his manner. It was
nothing very much beyond a suggestion
*


24 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
of suppressed excitement and that rather
wild look which lingers in a man's eyes when
he is just fresh from a dispute or has experi-
enced a narrow escape from danger. Then
Gifford ordered a stiff glass of spirits and
soda and drank it off before going up to
change. -
“Shall you be going to Wynford Place,
sir 2 ” the landlord inquired as he glanced
at the clock. -
Gifford hesitated a moment. “Yes. Let
me have a fly in a quarter of an hour,” he
answered.
But it was more than double that time
when he came down dressed for the dance.
The old house looked picturesque enough
in the moonlight as he approached it. All
the windows in the main building were lighted
up, and there was a pleasant suggestion of
revelry about the ivy-clad pile. Standing
some dozen yards from the house, but con-
nected with it by a covered way, was a
three-storied tower, the remains of a much
older house, and from the lower windows
of this lights also shone.
Gifford, entered the well-remembered hall


THE STAINED FLOWERS 25
and made his way, almost in a dream,
to the ball-room, where many hunting men
in pink made the scene unusually gay.
Unable for the moment to catch sight of
Relson, he had to introduce himself to his
host, who had heard of his mishap and
gave him a cheerily sympathetic welcome.
Richard Morriston was a pleasant-looking
man of about five or six-and-thirty, the last
man, Gifford thought, he would bear a
grudge against for possessing the old home
of the Giffords.
“I’m afraid you must look upon me.
rather in the light of an intruder here,”
Morriston said pleasantly. -
“A very acceptable one so far as I am
concerned,” Gifford responded with some-
thing more than empty civility.
“It is very kind of you to say so,” his
host rejoined. “Anyhow the least I can
do is to ask you with all sincerity to make
yourself free of the place while you are in
the neighbourhood. Edith,” he called to
a tall, handsome girl who was just passing
on a man’s arm, “this is Mr. Gifford, who
knows Wynford much better than we do.”


26 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
Miss Morriston left her partner and held
out her hand. “We were so sorry to hear
of your annoying experience,” she said.
“These railway people are too stupid. I
am so glad you retrieved your luggage in
time to come on to us.” -
Gifford was looking at her with some curi-
osity during her speech, and quickly came
to the conclusion that Kelson's description
of her had certainly not erred on the side
of exaggeration. She looked divinely hand-
some in her ball-dress of a darkish shade of
blue, relieved by a bunch of roses in her
corsage and a single diamond brooch.
Statuesque, too statuesque, Kelson had
called her; certainly her manner and bearing
had a certain cold stateliness, but Gifford
had penetration enough to see that behind
the reserve and the society tone of her wel-
come there might easily be a depth of feeling
which his friend with a lesser knowledge of
human nature never suspected. An interest-
ing girl, decidedly, Gifford concluded as he
made a suitable acknowledgment of her
greeting, and, I fancy, my friend Harry
takes a rather too superficial view of her


THE STAINED FLOWERS 27
character, he thought, as strolling off in
search of Kelson, he found himself watching
his hostess from across the room with more
than ordinary interest.
He soon"encountered Kelson coming out
of a gaily decorated passage which he knew
led to the old tower. He had a pretty girl
on his arm, tall and fair, but with none of
Miss Morriston's dignified coldness. This
girl had a sunny, laughing face, and Gifford
thought he understood why his friend had
not been enthusiastic over the probable Lady
Painswick.
Kelson, receiving him with delight, intro-
duced him, with an air of proprietorship
it seemed, to his companion, Miss Tred-
worth.
“Have you been exploring the old tower 2 ”
Gifford asked.
“We've been sitting out there,” Kelson
answered with a laugh. “They have converted
the lower rooms into quite Snug retreats.”
“In my uncle's day they were anything
but snug,” Gifford observed. “I remember
we used to play hide-and-seek up there.”
He spoke with preoccupation, his eyes
yy


28 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
fixed on a bunch of white flowers which the
girl wore on her black dress. They were
slightly blotched and sprinkled with a dark
colour in a way which was certainly not
natural, and Gifford, held by the peculiar
sight, looked in wonder from the flowers to
the girl's face. a
“You must give Gifford a dance,” Kelson
said, breaking up the rather awkward pause.
- “I’m afraid my card is full,” Miss Tred-
worth said, holding it up.
Kelson laughed happily. “Then he shall
have one of mine.”
But Gifford protested. “Indeed I won't
rob you, Harry,” he declared. “I’m tired,
and should be a stupid partner.”
“Tired 2 ” Kelson remonstrated. “Why,
you have been resting at the Lion waiting
for your things while we have been dancing
our hardest.” -
“Resting 2 No ; I went out for a walk,”
Gifford replied.
“The deuce you did Where did you
go to ?” º
“Oh, nowhere particular,” Gifford answered
rather evasively. “Just about the town.”


CHAPTER III
THE STREAK ON THE CUFF
UGH GIFFORD did not stay very long
at the dance. He took a mouthful
of supper, and then told Kelson that he had
a headache and was going to walk back to
the Golden Lion.
Kelson was distressed. “My dear fellow,
coming so late and going so early, it's too
bad. This is the best time of the night.
I hope the old place with its memories
hasn't distressed you.”
“Oh, no,” was the answer. “But some-
thing has upset me. I’ll get back and turn
in. By the way, I don't see that man
Henshaw.”
“No,” Kelson replied casually; “I
haven't seen him lately. But then I’ve had
something better to think about than that
ineffable bounder. He was here all right
º
- 29


30 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
in the early part of the evening. One
couldn't see anything else.”
“Dancing 2 ”
“More or less. Well, if you will go, old
fellow, do make yourself comfortable at the
Lion and call for anything you fancy. I'm
dancing this waltz.”
s Gifford left the dance and went back to
the hotel. He seemed perplexed and wor-
ried, so much so that for some time he paced
his room restlessly and then, instead of
turning in, he went back to the sitting-room,
lighted a pipe, and settled himself there to
await his friend's return.
It was nearly three o'clock when Kelson
came in. - -
“Why, Hugh ” he exclaimed in surprise.
“Still up 2 ”
“I didn't feel like sleeping,” Gifford
answered, “and if I'm to keep awake I'd
rather stay up.”
Kelson looked at him curiously. “I
hope the visit to your old home hasn't been
too much for you,” he remarked with the
limited sympathy of a strong man whose
nerves are not easily affected.


THE STREAK ON THE CUFF 31
“Oh, no,” Gifford assured him. “Al-
though somehow I did feel rather out of it.
I have had rather a teasing day, but I shall
be all right in the morning, and am looking
forward to a run round the scenes of my
childhood.”
“Good,” Kelson responded, relieved to
think his friend's visit was not after all going
to be as dismal as he had begun to fear.
“Well, Hugh,” he added gaily. “I have a
piece of news for you.”
“Not that you are engaged ?”
Something, an almost apprehensive touch,
in Gifford's tone rather took his friend aback.
“Why not 2 ” -
“To Miss—the girl you were dancing
With ??”
Again Gifford's tone gave a check to Kel-
son's enthusiasm. .
It was with a more serious face that he
replied, “Muriel Tredworth, the best girl
in England. I hope, my dear Hugh, you
are not going to say you don't think so.”
“Certainly not,” Gifford answered
promptly. “I never saw or heard of her
before to-night.”


32 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
Kelson laughed uncomfortably. A man
in love and in the flush of acceptance wants
something more than a lukewarm reception
of the news. “I’m glad to hear it,” he
responded dryly. “From your tone one
might almost imagine that you knew some-
thing against Muriel.” º
“Heaven forbid ” Gifford ejaculated
fervently.
“You don't congratulate me,” his friend
returned with a touch of suspicion.
Gifford forced a laugh. “My dear Harry,
you have taken my breath away. You
deserve the best wife in the kingdom, and
I sincerely hope you have got her,” he said,
not very convincingly.
His half-heartedness, not too successfully
masked, evidently struck Kelson. “One
would hardly suppose you thought so,” he
said in a hurt tone. “I wish,” he added
warmly, “if there is anything at the back
of your words you would speak out. I
should hope we are old friends enough for
that.”
Gifford glanced at the worried face of the
big, simple-minded sportsman, more or less


THE STREAK ON THE CUFF 33
a child in his knowledge of the subtleties of
human nature, and as he did so his heart
Smote him.
“We are, and I hope we always shall be,”
he declared, grasping his hand. “You are
making too much of my unfortunate manner
to-night, and I’m sorry. With all my heart
I congratulate you, and wish you every
blessing and all happiness.”
There was an unmistakable ring of sin-
cerity in his speech now, and, without going
aside to question its motive, as a more pene-
trating mind might have done, Kelson
accepted his friend's congratulations without
question.
“Thanks, old fellow,” he responded,
brightening as he returned the grasp of
Gifford's hand. “I was sure of your good
wishes. You need not fear I have made a
mistake. Muriel is a thorough good sort,
and we shall suit each other down to the
ground. We've every chance of happiness.”
Before Gifford could reply there came a
knock at the door. The landlord entered.
“Beg your pardon, captain,” he said,
“I’m sorry to trouble you, but could you tell
C


THE STREAK ON THE CUFF 35
*
“He couldn't well do that without calling
here for his things,” Kelson objected. “I
Suppose he did not do that, unknown to
you ?” he asked the landlord. -
“No, captain. His things are all laid
out in his room, and the fire kept up as he
ordered.”
“Then I don't know what has become of
º him,” Kelson returned, manifestly not inter-
ested in the subject. “I certainly should
not keep open any longer. If Mr. Henshaw
turns up at an unreasonable hour, let him
wait and get in when he can. Don't you
think so, Hugh 2 ”
Gifford nodded. “I think, considering
the hour, Mr. Dipper will be quite justified
in locking up,” he answered.
“Thank you, gentlemen; I will. Good-
night,” and the landlord departed.
Kelson turned to a side table and poured
out a drink.
“Decent fellow, Dipper, and uniformly
obliging,” he said. “I certainly don't see
why he should be inconvenienced and kept -
out of his bed by that swanker, who has
probably gone off with some pal and hasn't


36 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
had the decency to leave word to that effect.
Bad style of man altogether. Hullo I
What's this 2 ”
“What's the matter 2 ”
Gifford crossed to Kelson, who was look-
ing at his shirt-cuff.
“What's this 2 ”
A dark red streak was on the white linen.
“Hanged if it doesn't look like blood,”
Kelson said, holding it to the light.
Gifford caught his arm and scrutinized the
stain.
“It is blood,” he said positively.


CHAPTER IV
THE MISSING GUEST
EXT morning Captain Kelson took his
guest for a long drive round the
neighbourhood. Before starting he asked
the landlord at what time Henshaw had
returned.
“He didn't come in at all, captain,”
Dipper answered in an aggrieved tone. “His
fire was kept up all night for nothing.”
“I suppose he has been here this morning,”
Kelson observed casually.
“No,” was the prompt reply, “Nothing
has been seen or heard of him here since he
left last night for the ball.” T
Kelson whistled. “That looks rather
queer, doesn't it, Hugh 2 ”
Gifford nodded. “Very, I should say.
What do you make of it 2 " he asked the
landlord.
That worthy spread out his hands in a
37 * * =


38 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
gesture of helplessness. “It’s beyond me,
gentlemen. We can none of us make it out.
I’ve never known anything quite like it
happen all the years I’ve been in the business.”
“Oh, you'll have an explanation in the
course of the morning all right,” said Kelson
with a smile at the host's worry. “Don’t
take it too seriously; it isn't worth it.
You've got Mr. Henshaw's luggage, which
indemnifies you, and he is manifestly a person
quite capable of taking care of himself.”
Mr. Dipper gave a doubtful jerk of the
head. “It is very mysterious all the same.”
Kelson laughed as he went off with his
friend.
“I’m afraid I can’t get up much interest
in the doings of the objectionable Henshaw,”
he remarked lightly as they started off.
“Such men as he know what they are about,
and are not too punctilious with regard to
other people's inconvenience.”
“No,” Gifford responded quietly. “All
the same, his non-appearance is a little
mysterious.”
Kelson blew away the suggestion of mys-
tery in a short, contemptuous laugh.


40 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
clined to drive over to the Tredworths,
about seven miles away, in order to settle his
betrothal, but Gifford suggested that the
duty call should be paid first, and so it was
arranged. To Kelson's delight he heard that
Muriel Tredworth and her brother were
coming over next day to stay with the
Morristons for another dance in the neigh-
bourhood and a near meet of the hounds;
so he, warming to the Morristons, chatted
away in all a lover's high spirits.
“By the way,” he said presently, as they
sat over tea, “rather an extraordinary thing
has happened at the Golden Lion.”
“What's that ?” asked his host.
“Did you notice a man named Henshaw
here last night P A big, dark fellow, pro-
bably a stranger to you, but by way of being
a former follower of the Cumberbatch.”
“An old fellow 2 ” Morriston asked.
“Oh, no. About six-and-thirty, I should
say; eh, Hugh 2 ”
“Under forty, certainly,” Gifford an-
swered.
“Tall and very dark, almost to swarthi-
ness; of course I remember the man,”


THE MISSING GUEST 4I
Morriston exclaimed with sudden recollection.
“I introduced him to a partner.”
“I noticed the fellow,” observed Lord
Painswick, who also was calling. “Thea-
trical sort of chap. What has he done 2 ”
Kelson laughed. “Simply disappeared,
that’s all.”
“Disappeared l’” There was a chorus of
interest.
“How do you mean 2 ” Morriston asked.
“Left the hotel at nine last night and has
never turned up since,” Kelson said with an
air of telling an amusing story. “Poor
Host Dipper is taking it quite tragically,
notwithstanding the satisfactory point in the
case that the egregious Henshaw's elaborate
kit still remains in his unoccupied bedroom.”
“Do you mean to say he never came back
all night 2 ” Miss Morriston asked.
“Never,” Kelson assured her. “Old Dip-
per came to us, half asleep, at four o'clock to
ask whether he was justified in locking up
the establishment.”
“And nothing has been seen or heard of
the man since,” Gifford put in.
“That is queer,” Morriston said, as though


42 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
scarcely knowing whether to take it seriously
or otherwise. “Now I come to think of it
I don't recollect seeing anything-of the man
after quite the first part of the evening. Did
you, Painswick 2 ”
“No, can't say I did,” Painswick answered.
“And,” observed Kelson, “he was not
a man to be easily overlooked when he was on
show. I missed him, not altogether dis-
agreeably, after the early dances.”
“What is the idea 2 " Edith Morriston
inquired. “Is there any theory to account
for his disappearance 2 ”
“No,” Kelson answered, “unless a dis-
creditable one. Gone off at a tangent.”
“And still in his evening things 2 ” Pains-
wick said with a laugh. “Rather uncom-
fortable this weather.”
“That reminds me,” Morriston said with
sudden animation, “one of the footmen
brought me a fur coat and a soft hat this
morning and asked me if they were mine.
They had been unclaimed after the dance
and he had ascertained that they belonged
to none of the men who were staying here.
Nor were they mine.”
f


THE MISSING GUEST 43
“That is most curious,” Kelson said with
a mystified air. “Henshaw was wearing a
fur coat and soft hat when we saw him in the
hall of the Lion just before starting. Don't
you remember, Hugh 2 ”
“Yes; certainly he was,” Gifford answered.
“Then they s must be his,” Morriston
concluded.
“And where is he—without them 2 ” Pains-
wick added with a laugh. “Dead of
cold 2 ”
“It is altogether quite mysterious,” Morris-
ton observed with a puzzled air. * “He can't
be here still.”
“Hardly,” his sister replied. “You know
him 2 ” she asked Kelson.
“Quite casually. So far as nearly coming
to a rough and tumble with the fellow for
his cheek in scoffing our fly at the station
constitutes an acquaintance. Gifford acted
as peacemaker, and we put up with the
fellow's company to the town. But neither
of us imbibed a particularly high opinion of
the sportsman, did we, Hugh 2 ”
“No,” Gifford assented; “his was not a
taking character, to men at any rate ; and


44 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
we rather wondered how he came to be going
to the Cumberbatch Ball.”
“No doubt he got his ticket in the ordinary
way,” Morriston said.
“It only shows, my dear Dick,” his sister
observed, “you may quite easily run risks
in giving a semi-public dance in your own
house.”
Morriston laughed. “Oh, come, Edith,”
he protested, “we need not make too much
of it. We don't know for certain that the
man was a queer character.”
“One finds objectionable swaggerers every-
where,” Painswick put in.
“Anyhow,” said Kelson, “if this Henshaw
was a bad lot he had the decency to efface
himself promptly enough. The puzzle is,
what on earth has become of him 2 ”
“I don’t know, Mr. Gifford,” Morriston
said as the two friends were leaving, “whe-
ther you would care for a ramble over the old
place. A man named Piercy has written to
me for permission to go over the house;
he is, it appears, writing a book on the anti-
quities of the county. I have asked him to
luncheon to-morrow, and we shall be delighted


46 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“You think there is no deep feeling under
the ice of her manner 2 ”
“I don't know,” Kelson replied, as though
the idea was quite novel to him. “Never
got so far as to think of that. I like a girl
with whom you can get on without going
through the process of thawing her first.
And with Edith Morriston I should say it
would be a slow process. Anyhow, she is
just the girl for Painswick, who is evidently
after her.”
“I should say that with him the ice is a
little below the surface,” Gifford ventured.
Kelson laughed. “You’ve hit it, Hugh.
He's easy enough, but scratch him and you
come upon a very straight-laced aristocrat.
He and the statuesque Edith Morriston are
made for one another.”
As they entered the Golden Lion the land-
lord met them.
“Well, Mr. Dipper, any news of your
missing guest ?" Kelson inquired with char-
acteristic cheeriness, ignoring the troubled
expression on that worthy's face.
“No, captain; and we can’t imagine
what has happened to Mr. Henshaw. There
*


THE Missing guest 47
are three telegrams come for him, and I have
just got one, reply-paid, to ask whether he is
staying here.”
“And you replied ?”
“Went to Hunt Ball 9 last night. Not
been here since,” Dipper quoted. “It is
rather awkward and unpleasant for me, sir,”
he added uncomfortably.
“Oh, you've no responsibility in the
matter,” Kelson assured him. “Don’t you
worry about it, Mr. Dipper. If the man goes
out and does not choose to come back, that,
beyond the payment of your charges, can be
no affair of yours. Isn't that so, Hugh 2 ”
“Certainly,” Gifford assented.
Still their host looked anything but satis-
fied. . -
“Yes, sir, that’s quite right; all the same,
we are beginning not to like the look of it.
It is very mysterious.”
“It is, Mr. Dipper, to say the least of it,”
Kelson replied. “Still from such opinion
as we were able to form of Mr. Henshaw I
don't think it worth while making much fuss
about it. He'll turn up all right' and pro-
bably call you a fool for your pains.”


48 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“I would not worry about it if I -were
you,” Gifford said quietly.
As they turned to go upstairs a telegraph
boy came in and handed his message to the
landlord, who read it and handed it to Kelson.
“Please wire me without fail directly Mr.
Henshaw returns. Gervase Henshaw, 8,
Stone Court, Temple, London,” Kelson read.
“That's his brother,” Gifford observed.
“All right,” said Kelson. “Let him worry
if he likes. All you have to do, Mr. Dipper,
is what he asks you there.”
He went upstairs with Gifford, leaving the
landlord reperusing the telegram, his plump
face dark with misgiving. *


º
CHAPTER V
- THE LOCKED ROOM
HAT night the missing man did not
return, nor was anything heard of him.
The morning brought no news, and even
Kelson began to think there might be some-
thing serious in it.
“If it was anybody but that man,” he
said casually over a hearty breakfast, “I
should say it would be worth while taking
steps to find out what had become of him.
But that fellow can take care of himself;
and when you come to think of it, his coming
down here, an outsider, to the ball, was in
itself rather fishy.”
Gifford agreed, and they fell to discussing
the day's plans. Kelson was going to drive
over to have the momentous interview with
Miss Tredworth's father. He anticipated no
difficulty there; still, as he said, “The thing
49 D


50 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
has got to be done, and the sooner it is over
the better.”
“Why not go to-morrow?” Gifford sug-
gested. “There will be rather a rush to-day.”
Kelson, a man of action, scoffed at the
idea. “Oh, no ; Muriel and Charlie are
coming over to Wynford to luncheon. I
shall simply get the thing settled and drive
back with them.”
So it was arranged. Gifford spent the
morning in a stroll about the familiar neigh-
bourhood, and when luncheon time came they
all met at Wynford Place. Miss Morriston
was not present. Her brother apologized
for her absence, saying she had been obliged
to keep an engagement to lunch with a friend,
but that she had promised to return quite
early in the afternoon. Mr. Piercy, the
antiquarian, proved to be by no means as
dry as his pursuit suggested. He was a
lively little man with a fund of interesting
stories furnished by the lighter side of his
work, and altogether the luncheon was quite
amusing.
When it was over Morriston suggested
that, not to waste the daylight, they should


THE LOCKED ROOM 5.I
begin their tour of the house; he called
upon Gifford to share the duties of guidance,
and the party moved off.
“Hope you haven't been bored all the
morning, Hugh,” Kelson said to his friend
as they found themselves side by side.
“Any news at the Lion ? Has Henshaw
turned up yet 2 ”
Gifford shook his head. “No. Host Dip-
per has had another telegram of inquiry
from the brother, but had nothing to tell him
in return.” * e
Kelson's face became grave. “It really
does begin to look serious,” he remarked.
“Yes; Dipper has been interviewing the
police on the subject.”
“Has he 2 Well, I only hope Henshaw
has not been playing the fool, or worse,
and caused all this fuss for nothing.”
The party moved on to the great hall where
the dancing had taken place, and so to the
passage connecting the main building with
the ancient tower.
“Now this is the part which will no doubt
interest you most, Mr. Piercy,” Morriston
said ; “this fourteenth century tower, which


52 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
is to-day in a really wonderful state of pre-
servation.”
“Ah, yes,” the archaeologist murmured ;
“they could build in those days.”
They examined the two lower rooms on the
ground and first floors, remarked on the
thickness of the walls, shown by the depth of
the window embrasures, which in older days
had been put to sterner purposes; they
admired the solid strength of the ties and
hammer-beams in the roofs, and scrutinized
the few articles of ancient furniture and
tapestry the rooms contained, and the massive
oaken iron-bound door which admitted to the
garden.
“Now we will go up to the top room,”
Morriston proposed. “It is used only for
lumber, but there is quite a good view from
it.”
He preceded the rest of the party up the
winding stairs to the topmost door.
“Hullo l’’ he exclaimed, pushing at it,
“the door is locked. And the key appears
to have been taken away,” he added, bending
down and feeling about in the imperfect
light.


THE LOCKED ROOM 53
The whole party was consequently held
up on the narrow stairs. “I’ll go and ask
what has become of the key,” Morriston said,
making his way past them.
In a minute he returned, presently fol-
lowed by the butler.
“How is it that this top door is locked,
Stent 2 ” he asked. “And where is the
key 2 ”
“I don't know, sir. Alfred mentioned
this morning that the door was locked and
the key taken away; we thought you must
have locked it, sir.”
“I ? No, I've not been up here since the
morning of the ball, when I had those old
things brought up from the lower room to be
out of the way.”
“Did you lock the door then, sir?”
“No. Why should I? I am certain I
did not. Perhaps one of the men did.
Just go and inquire. And have the key
looked for.”
“Very good, sir.”
“This is rather provoking,” Morriston
said, as they waited. “I particularly wanted
to show you the view, which should be lovely


56 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Yes,” Morriston said. “I can’t under-
stand it at all. Besides, who would be likely
to want to play tricks here? We have had
no sign of burglars, and in any case they
would hardly have been able to bring a ladder
long enough to reach up to that window.
Well, we must have the mystery cleared up.
I think, Stent, you had better send one of
the men on a bicycle into Branchester to
fetch a locksmith and have the door opened
somehow. Have it explained to him that it
may be a tough job. In the meantime we
may as well go and view the tower from the
outside, as we can’t get in.”
Accordingly the whole party went down
into the hall and so out to the garden, where
they strolled round the house, Piercy mean-
while taking notes of its architectural features.
As they came to the tower the rays of a late
winter sun were striking it almost horizontally,
lighting it up in a picturesque glow. Piercy,
with his archaeological knowledge, was able
to tell the owner and Gifford a good deal
about the ancient structure of which they had
previously been ignorant.
“The sunset would have been worth seeing


THE LOCKED ROOM 57
from that top window,” Morriston said,
evidently perplexed and annoyed over the
mystery of the locked door. “I can't make
out what has happened.”
“The person who locked the door assuredly
did not make his exit by the window,”
Kelson remarked with a laugh, as he looked
up at the sheer surface of the upper wall;
- “ unless he was bent on suicide, in which case
we should have found what was left of him
at the foot of the tower.”
As they went on round the house, Miss
Morriston was seen coming up the drive.
Her brother hurried forward to meet
her.
“I say, Edith,” he exclaimed, “we are in
a great fix. Can you explain how the door
of the top room in the tower comes to be
locked with the key inside 2 ”
Miss Morriston looked surprised. “ What, -
Dick 2 ”
“We can't get in,” Morriston explained.
“We found the door locked and the key
missing, and then when Alfred tried another
key, he found the right one was in the lock
but inside the room.”


58 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
Miss Morriston thought a moment. “My
dear Dick, the door can’t be locked.”
“It is, I tell you,” he returned ; “most
certainly locked. We have tried it and found
it quite fast.”
“Then there must be someone in the
room,” his sister said.
“That,” Morriston replied, “seems the
only possible explanation. But I shouted
several times and got no answer.”
“Someone playing you a trick,” and the
girl laughed.
“But who 2 who 2 ” he returned.
His sister gave a shrug. “Oh, you'll find
out soon enough,” she replied, with a smile.
“I shall,” he replied, as two men appeared
making for the servants' entrance. “Here
comes Henry with the locksmith.”
Miss Morriston in her stately way looked
amused.
“My dear old Dick, you have been making
a fuss about it. You will probably find the
door open when you go up.”
“And I'll know who has been playing
this stupid trick,” Morriston said wrathfully.
“A footman making love to a housemaid


THE LOCKED ROOM 59
turned the key in a panic at being trapped,”
Kelson said to his host.
“I dare say,” Morriston replied with a
laugh of ill-humour. “And he'll have to pay
for his impudence.”
That explanation by its feasibility was
generally accepted as the simple solution of
the mystery.
“Come along !” Morriston called. “We'll
all go up, and see whether the door is open
or not. We shall just be in time to catch the
sunset.” .
He led the way through the hall and the
corridor beyond and so up the winding
stairs.
“What, not open yet 2 ” he exclaimed as
the last turn showed the workman busy at
the lock. “Well, this is extraordinary.”
The locksmith was kneeling and working
at the door, while the footman stood over
him holding a candle.
“The key is in the lock, inside, isn't
it 2 ” Morriston asked.
“Yes, sir,” the man answered. “There
is no doubt about that.”
“How do you account for it 2 ”


60 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
The man looked up from his task and
shook his head.
“Can't account for it, sir. Unless so be as
there is someone inside.”
“Can you open it 2 ”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have it turned in a minute.”
He took from his bag a long pair of hollow
pliers which he inserted in the lock and
then screwed tightly, clutching the end of
the key. Then fitting a transverse rod to the
pliers and using it as a lever he carefully
forced the key round, and so shot back the
lock.
There was a short pause while the man un-
screwed his instrument; then he stepped
back and pushed open the door.
Morriston went in quickly. “There is
the key, sure enough,” he said, looking
round at the inside of the door. He took
a couple of steps farther into the room,
only to utter an exclamation of intense
surprise and horror; then turned quickly
with an almost scared face.
“Go back l’” he cried hoarsely, holding
up his hands with an arresting gesture.
“Kelson, Mr. Gifford, come here a moment


THE LOCKED ROOM 6I
and shut the door. Look l’’ he said in a
breathless whisper, pointing to the floor
beneath the window through which the deep
orange light of the declining sun was stream-
ing.
An exclamation came from Kelson as
he saw the object which Morriston indicated,
and he turned with a stupefied look to
Gifford. “My—!”
Gifford's teeth were set and he fell a step
backward as though in repulsion. On the
floor between the window and an old oak
table, which had practically hidden it from
the doorway, lay the body of a man in
evening clothes, one side of his shirt-front
stained a dark colour. Although the face
lay in the shadow of the high window-sill,
there was no mistaking the man's identity.
“Henshaw l’ Kelson gasped.


CHAPTER VI
THE MYSTERY OF CLEMENT HENSHAw
T was the missing man, Henshaw, sure
enough. The Swarthy hue of his face
had in death turned almost to black, but the
features, together with the man's big, mus-
cular figure were unmistakable. For some
moments the three men stood looking at the
body in something like bewilderment, scarcely
realizing that so terrible a tragedy had been
enacted in that place, amid those surround-
ings. -
“Suicide 2 ” Kelson was the first to break
the silence.
“Must have been,” Morriston responded
“ or how could the door have been locked
from the inside. I will send at once for the
police, and we must have a doctor, although
that is obviously useless.” He went to
the door, then turned. “Will you stay
here or—” -
Kelson made an irresolute movement as
62


CLEMENT HENSHAW 63
though wavering between the implied invi-
tation to quit the room and an inclination
not to run away from the grim business.
He glanced at Gifford, who showed no sign of
moving.
“Just as you like,” he replied in a hushed
voice. “Perhaps we had better stay here
till you come back.”
“All right,” Morriston assented. “Don’t
let any one come in, and I suppose we ought
not to move anything in the room till the
police have seen it.”
He went out, closing the door.
“I can't make this out, Hugh,” Kelson
said, pulling himself together and moving
to the opposite side of the room.
“No,” Gifford responded mechanically.
“He,” Kelson continued, “certainly did
not give one the idea of a man who had come
down here to make away with himself.”
“On the contrary,” his friend murmured
in the same preoccupied tone.
“What do you think 2 How can you
account for it 2 ” Kelson demanded, as
appealing to the other's greater knowledge
of the world. -
-


64 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
It seemed to be with an effort that Gifford
released himself from the fascination that
held his gaze to the tragedy. “It is an
absolute mystery,” he replied, moving to
where his friend stood. -
“A woman in it 2 ”
For a moment Gifford did not answer.
Then he said, “No doubt about it, I should
imagine.” -
“It’s awful,” Kelson said, driven, perhaps
for the first time in his life, from his habit-
ually casual way of regarding serious things,
and mayberoused by Gifford's apathy. “We
didn't like—the man did not appeal to us;
but to die like this. It’s horrible. And I
dare say it happened while the dance was
in full swing down there. Why, man, Muriel
and I were in the room below. I proposed
to her there. And all the time this was just
above us.” -
“It is horrible ; one doesn’t like to think
of it,” Gifford said reticently.
“I cannot understand it,” Kelson went on,
with a sharp gesture of perplexity. “I can
imagine some sort of love affair bringing the
poor fellow down to this place; but that he
a


CLEMENT HENSHAW 65
should come up here and do this thing, even
if it went wrong, is more than I can conceive.
Taking the man as we knew him it is out of
all reason.”
“Yes,” Gifford assented. “But we
don’t know yet that it is a case of
suicide.”
“What else?” Kelson returned. “How
otherwise could the door have been locked.
Unless—” He glanced sharply at the
deep recess, or inner chamber, formed by the
bartizan, hesitated a moment, and then
going quickly to it, looked in.
“No, nothing there,” he announced with
a breath of relief. “I had for the moment
an idea it might have been a double tragedy,”
he added with a shudder.
“So we are forced back to the suicide
theory,” Gifford remarked. He had gone to
the landing outside the door.
“Yes,” Kelson replied as he joined him.
“But as to the woman in the case, who
could she possibly have been 2 I knew most
of the girls who were at the dance, and the
idea of a tragedy with any one of them
seems inconceivable.”
E


66 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“One would think so,” Gifford responded.
“And yet—"
“You think it possible 2 ” Kelson de-
manded incredulously.
“Possible, if far from probable,” the other
answered with conviction. “There are
women who can be as secret as the grave,
at any rate so far as appearances to the outer
world are concerned. I wonder whom he
danced with. Do you remember 2 ”
“No. I seem to recollect him with a girl
in a light green dress, but that does not take
us far.”
Footsteps on the stairway announced their
host's return.
“The police will be here, directly,” he
reported, “and, I hope, a doctor. I have
done my best to keep it from the ladies,
and I don't think that, so far, any of them
has an exact idea of what made me turn
them back. Just as well the horror should
be kept dark as long as possible. It is such an
awful blow to me that I can scarcely realize
it yet.”
“Miss Morriston does not know 2 ” Kelson
asked.


CLEMENT HENSHAW 67
“No. And I only hope it won't give her
a dislike to the house when she does. For
I am hoping to have her here a good deal
with me, even if she marries.”
A police inspector accompanied by a detec-
tive and a constable now arrived. Morriston
took them into the room of death. Gifford
grasped Kelson's arm.
“I don't think there is any use in our staying
here,” he suggested. “Let us go down.”
The other man nodded, and they began to
descend. -
“You are not going, Kelson 2 ” Morriston
cried, hurrying to the door.
“We thought we could be of no use and
might be in the way,” Gifford replied.
“Oh, I wish you would stay,” Morriston .
urged, going down a few steps to them.
“I know it is not pleasant ; on the contrary
it's a ghastly affair; but I should like to
have you with me till this police business is
over. I won't ask you to stay up here, but
if you den’t mind waiting downstairs I
should be so grateful. I might want your
advice. You'll find the rest of the party in
the drawing-room.”


68 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
The two could do no less than promise, and,
with a word of thanks, Morriston went back
to the officials.
As the two men crossed the hall the draw-
ing-room door opened and Miss Morriston
came out.
“Is my brother coming 2 ” she asked.
“He will be down soon,” Gifford answered
in as casual a tone as he could assume. -
* The girl seemed struck by the gravity of
their faces as she glanced from one to the
other. “I hope nothing is wrong,” she
observed, with just a shade of apprehension.
There was a momentary pause as each man,
hesitating between a direct falsehood, the
truth, and a plausible excuse, rather waited
for the other to speak.
Gifford answered. “No, nothing that you
need worry about, Miss Morriston. Your
brother will tell you later on.”
But the hesitation seemed to have aroused
the girl's suspicions. “Do tell me now,” she
said, with just a tremor of anxiety underlying
the characteristic coldness of her tone. “ Un-
less,” she added, “it is something not exactly
proper for me to hear.”
*
* -


70 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
drawing-room. As they entered they were
received by expectant looks.
“Well, is the mystery solved 2 ” young
Tredworth inquired.
Kelson gave him a silencing look. “You’ll
hear all about it in good time,” he replied
between lightness and gravity.
Piercy rose to take his leave.
“Oh, you must not go yet,” Miss Morriston
protested. “They are just bringing tea.”
“But I fear I may be in the way if there is
anything—” he urged.
“Oh, no,” his hostess insisted. “I don’t
know of anything wrong. At least neither
Captain Kelson nor Mr. Gifford will admit
anything. You must have tea before your
long drive.”
- The subject of the mystery in the tower
was tacitly dropped, perhaps from a vague
feeling that it was best not alluded to, at any
rate by the ladies, and the conversation
flowed, with more or less effort, on ordinary
local topics. Tea over, Piercy took his
leave.
“You must come again, Mr. Piercy, while
you are in this part of the county,” Miss


CLEMENT HENSHAW 71
Morriston said graciously, “when you shall
have no episodes of lost keys to hinder your
researches. My brother shall write to you.”
Kelson took the departing visitor out into
the hall to see him off.
“You’ll see it all in the papers to-morrow,
I expect,” he said in a confidential tone, “so
there is no harm in telling you there has been
a most gruesome discovery in that locked
room. A man who was here at the Hunt
Ball, has been found dead; suicide no
doubt. The police are here now.”
“Good heavens ! A mercy the ladies did
not see it.”
“Yes; they'll have to know sooner or
later. The later the better.”
“Yes, indeed. Any idea of the cause of the
sad business 2 ”
“None, as yet. A complete mystery.”
“Probably a woman in it.”
“Not unlikely. Good-bye.”
As Kelson turned from the door, Morriston
and another man appeared at the farther end
of the hall and called to him.
“You know Dr. Page,” he said as Kelson
joined them.


72 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“A terrible business this, doctor,” Kelson
observed as they shook hands.
The medico drew in a breath. “Ard at
first sight in the highest degree mysterious,”
he said gravely. --
“Dr. Page,” said Morriston, “has made a
cursory examination of the body. The au-
topsy will take place elsewhere. The police
are making notes of everything important, and
after dark will remove the body quietly by
the tower door. So I hope the ladies will
know nothing of the tragedy just yet.”
As they were speaking a footman had
opened the hall-door and now approached
with a card on a salver. “Can you see this
gentleman, sir?” he said.
Morriston took the card, and as he glanced
at it an expression of pain crossed his face.
He handed it silently to Kelson, who gave it
back with a grave nod. It was the card of
“Mr. Gervase Henshaw, II Stone Court,
Temple, E.C.”


CHAPTER VII
THE INCREDULITY OF GERVASE HENSHAW
“QHOW Mr. Henshaw into the library,”
Morriston said to the footman. “This
is horribly tragic,” he added in a low tone to
IZelson, “but it has to be gone through,
and perhaps the sooner the better. His
brother ??’
“Yes; he mentioned him on our way
from the station the other evening. At any
rate he will be able to see the situation for
himself.”
“You will come with me 2 ” Morriston
suggested. “You might fetch your friend,
Gifford.” w -
Kelson nodded, opened the drawing-room
door and called Gifford out, while Morriston
waited in the hall.
“The brother has turned up,” he said as
the two men joined him. “No doubt to
73


74 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
make inquiries. What are we to say to
him 2 ”
“There is nothing to be said but the bare,
inevitable truth,” Gifford answered. “You
can't now break it to him by degrees.”
Morriston led the way to the library.
* By the fire stood a keen-featured, sharp-eyed
man of middle height and lithe figure, whose
manner and first movements as the door
opened showed alertness and energy of
character. There was a certain likeness to
his brother in the features and dark com-
plexion as well as in a suggestion of un-
pleasant aggressiveness in the expression
of his face, but where the dead man's per-
sonality had suggested determination over-
laid with an easy-going, indulgent spirit of
hedonism this man seemed to bristle with a
restless mental activity, to be all brain; one
whose pleasures lay manifestly on the intel-
lectual side. One thing Gifford quickly noted,
as he looked at the man with a painful curi-
osity, was that the face before him lacked
much of the suggestion of evil which in the
brother he had found so repellent. This
man could surely be hard enough on occasion,
~


GERVASE HENSHAW 75
the strong jaw and a certain hardness in the
eyes told that, but except perhaps for an
uncomfortable excess of sharpness, there was
none of his brother's rather brutally scoffing
cast of expression. -
Henshaw seemed to regard the two men
following Morriston into the room with a
certain apprehensive surprise.
“I hope you will pardon my troubling
you like this,” he said to Morriston,
speaking in a quick, decided tone, “but I
have been rather anxious as to what has
become of my brother, of whom I can get no
news. He came down to the Cumberbatch
Hunt Ball, which I understand was held in this
house, and from that evening seems to have
mysteriously disappeared. He had an im-
portant business engagement for the next
day, Wednesday, which he failed to keep,
and this may mean a considerable loss to
him. Can you throw any light on his move-
ments down here 2 ”
Morriston, dreading to break the news
abruptly, had not interrupted his questions.
“I am sorry to say I can,” he now answered
in a subdued tone.


76 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Sorry?” Henshaw caught up the word
quickly. “What do you mean 2 Has he
met with an accident 2 ”
“Worse than that,” Morriston answered
sympathetically.
Henshaw with a start fell back a step.
“Worse,” he repeated. “You don't mean
to say—”
“He is dead.”
“Dead ' " Surprise and shock raised the
word almost to a shout. “You—” -
“We have,” Morriston said quietly, “only
discovered the terrible truth within the last
hour or so.” -
“But dead 2 ” Henshaw protested incre-
dulously. “How—how can he be dead 2
How did he die? An accident "
“I am afraid it looks as though by his own
hand,” Morriston answered in a hushed voice.
The expression of incredulity on Henshaw's
face manifestly deepened. “By his own
hand 2 ” he echoed. “Suicide? Clement com-
mit suicide 2 Impossible ! Inconceivable !”
“One would think so indeed,” Morriston
replied with sympathy. “May I tell you the
facts, so far as we know them 2 ”


GERVASE HENSHAw 77
“If you please.” The words were rapped
out almost peremptorily.
Morriston pointed to a chair, but his visitor,
in his preoccupation, seemed to take no notice
of the gesture, continuing to stand restlessly,
in an attitude of strained attention.
The other three men had seated themselves.
Morriston without further preface related the
story of the locked door in the tower and of
the subsequent discovery when it had been
opened. Henshaw heard him to the end in
what seemed a mood of hardly restrained,
somewhat resentful impatience.
“I don’t understand it at all,” he said
when the story was finished.
“Nor do any of us,” Morriston returned
promptly. “The whole affair is as mysterious
as it is lamentable. Still it appears to be
clearly a case of suicide.”
“Suicide l’” Henshaw echoed with a cer-
tain scornful incredulity. “Why suicide 2
In connexion with my brother the idea seems
utterly preposterous.”
“The door locked on the inside,” Morriston
suggested.
“That, I grant you, is at first sight mys-


78 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
terious enough,” Henshaw returned, his keen
eyes fixed on Morriston. “But even that
does not reconcile me to the monstrous im-
probability of my brother, Clement, taking
his own life. I knew him too well to admit
that.” -
“Unfortunately,” Morriston replied, sym-
pathetically restraining any approach to an
argumentative tone, “your brother was prac-
tically a stranger to me, and to us all. My
friends here, Captain Kelson and Mr. Gifford,
met him casually at the railway station and
drove with him to the Golden . Lion in the
town, where they all put up.”
Henshaw's sharp scrutiny was immediately
transferred from Morriston to his companions.
“Can you, gentlemen, throw any light on
the matter 2 ” he asked sharply.
“None at all, I am sorry to say,” Kelson
answered readily. “I may as well tell you
how our very slight acquaintance with him
came about.”
“If you please,” Henshaw responded, in a
tone more of command than request.
Kelson, naturally ignoring his questioner's
slightly offensive manner, thereupon related


GERVASE HENSHAW" 79
the circumstances of the encounter at the
station-yard and of the subsequent drive
to the town, merely softening the detail of
their preliminary altercation. Henshaw lis-
tened alertly intent, it seemed, to seize upon
any point which did not satisfy him.
“That was all you saw of my unfortunate
brother ?” he demanded at the end.
“We saw him for a few moments in the
hall of the hotel just as we were starting,”
Kelson answered.
“You drove here together ? No?”
“No, your brother took an hotel carriage,
and I drove in my own trap.”
“With Mr.—?” he indicated Gifford, who
up to this point had not spoken.
“No,” Gifford answered. “I came on
later. A suit-case with my evening things
had gone astray—been carried on in the
train, and I had to wait till it was returned.”
Henshaw stared at him for a moment
sharply as though the statement had about
it something vaguely suspicious, seemed about
to put another question, checked himself,
and turned about with a gesture of per-
plexity.


80 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“I don’t understand it at all,” he muttered.
Then suddenly facing round again he said
sharply to Gifford, “Have you anything
to add, sir, to what your friend has told
me 2 ”
“I can say nothing more,” Gifford an-
swered. - -
Henshaw turned away again, and seemed as
though but half satisfied.
“The facts,” he said in a lawyer-like
tone, “don’t appear to lead us far. But
when ascertained facts stop short they may
be supplemented. Apart from what is actu-
ally known—I ask this as the dead man's
only brother—have either of you gentlemen
formed any idea as to how he came by his
death 2 ” -
He was looking at Morriston, his cross-
examining manner now softened by the
human touch.
“It has not occurred to me to look beyond
what seems the obvious explanation of Sui-
cide,” Morriston answered frankly.
Henshaw turned to Kelson. “And you,
sir; have you any idea beyond the known
facts 2 ''


GERVASE HENSHAW 8I
“None,” was the answer, “except that
he took his own life. The door locked on
Henshaw interrupted him sharply. “Now
you are getting back to the facts, Captain
Kelson. I tell you the idea of my brother
Clement taking his own life is to me abso-
lutely inconceivable. Have you any idea,
however far-fetched, as to what really may
have happened 2 ” *
Kelson shook his head. “None. Except
I must say he looked to me the last man who
would do such an act.”
“I should think so,” Henshaw returned
decidedly. Then he addressed himself to
Gifford. “I must ask you, sir, the same
question.”
“And I can give you no more satisfactory
answer,” Gifford said.
“As a man with knowledge of the world as
I take you to be 2 * Henshaw urged keenly.
“No.” -
“At least you agree with your friend
here, that my poor brother did not strike
one as being a man liable to make away
with himself 2 ''
F


82 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Certainly. But one can never tell. I
knew nothing of him or his affairs.”
“But I did,” Henshaw retorted vehe-
mently. “And I tell you, gentlemen, the
thing is utterly impossible. But we shall see.
The body—is it here 2 ”
“The police have charge of it in the room
where he was found. It is to be removed
at nightfall. You will wish to see it 2 ”
Morriston answered.
“Yes.” -
Morriston led the way to the tower, ex-
plaining as he went the arrangements on
the night of the ball. Henshaw spoke little,
his mood seemed dissatisfied and resentful,
but his sharp eyes seemed to take everything
in. Once he asked, “Did my brother dance
much 2 '' -
“He was introduced to a partner,” Morris-
ton replied. “But after that no one seems
to have noticed him in the ball-room.”
“You mean he disappeared quite early
in the evening 2 ”
“Yes ; so far as we have been able to
ascertain,” Morriston answered. “Naturally,
before this awful discovery we had been


84, THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
of the deceased,” he said, addressing 1110Te
particularly the detective. “What do you
make of this 2 ”
The question was put in the same sharp,
business-like tone which had characterized
his utterances in the library.
“Judging by the door being locked on
the inside,” the detective answered sym-
pathetically, “it can only be a case of
suicide.” -
Henshaw frowned. “It will take a good
deal to persuade me of that,” he retorted.
“Mr.—” -
“Detective-Sergeant Finch.”
“Mr. Finch. Did the doctor say suicide?”
“I did not hear him express a definite
opinion. Did you, inspector 2 ”
“No, Mr. Finch. I rather presumed the
doctor took it for granted.”
“Took it for granted ’’ Henshaw echoed.
contemptuously. “I’m not going to take
it for granted, I can tell you. Did the doctor
examine the body ?”
“He made a cursory examination. He
is arranging to meet the police surgeon for
an autopsy to-morrow morning.”


GERVASE HENSHAW 85
On the table lay a narrow-bladed chisel,
the lower portion of the bright steel dis-
coloured with the dark stain of blood.
The inspector pointed to it.
“That is the instrument with which the
wound must have been made,” he remarked
in a subdued tone. “It was found lying
beside the body.”
Henshaw took it up and ran his eyes
over it. “How could he have got this 2 ”
he demanded, looking round with what
seemed a distrustful glance.
“I can only suggest,” Morriston answered,
“ that one of my men must have left it when
Some work was done here a few days ago.”
“That is so apparently, Mr. Morriston,”
the detective corroborated. “It has been
identified by Haynes, the estate carpenter.”
Henshaw put down the chisel and for some
moments kept silence, tightening his thin
lips as though in strenuous thought. Then
suddenly he demanded, “Beyond the fact
that the door was found locked from within,
what reason have you for your conclusion ?”
Mr. Finch shrugged. “We don't see how
it could be otherwise, sir,” he replied with


(
*
86 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
quiet conviction. “Clearly the deceased
gentleman must have been alone in the room
when he died.”
“Might he not have locked the door after
the wound was given 2 ” Henshaw suggested
in a tone of cross-examination.
“Dr. Page was of opinion that death,
or at any rate unconsciousness, must have
been almost instantaneous,” Finch rejoined
respectfully.
“Even supposing the autopsy bears out
that view I shall not be satisfied,” Henshaw
declared. * .
The inspector took up the argument.
“You See, sir, taking into consideration the
position of the room it would be impossible
for any second party who may have been
here with the deceased to leave it undis-
covered except by the door. To drop from
this window, which is the only one large
enough to admit of an adult body passing
through, would mean pretty certain death.
Anyhow the party would have been so
injured that getting clear away would be
out of the question. Will you see for your-
self, sir? "
*


GERVASE HENSHAW 87
He threw back the window and invited
Henshaw to look down. The argument
seemed conclusive.
“Was the window found open or shut 2 ”
“It was found unlatched, sir,” Finch
answered. “But the servants think that it
was opened that morning and owing to the
extra work in the house that day its fastening
in the evening was overlooked.” -
“Even if a second person had let himself
down from the window,” the inspector
argued, “the rope would have been here.”
Henshaw kept silence, seemingly indifferent
to the officials’ arguments. “I can only tell
you I am far from satisfied with the suicide
theory,” he said at length. “My brother
was not that sort of man. He had nerves
of iron; he was in love with life and all it
meant to him, and he made it a rule never
to let anything worry him. Let the other
fellow worry, was his motto. Well, we
shall see.”
He turned towards the door, and as he
did so he caught sight of a cardboard box
in which was a collection of various articles,
jewellery, a watch and chain, money, a pocket-


88 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
handkerchief, a letter, and a dance pro-
gramme.
“The contents of deceased's pockets.”
the inspector observed, answering Henshaw's
glance of curiosity. “We have collected
and made a list of them, and they will in
due course be handed to you, or to his heir,
on the coroner's order.”
“Is that a letter 2 May I see it 2 ”
As the official hesitated, Henshaw had
snatched the paper, a folded note, and
rapidly ran his eye through its contents.
Then he gave a curious laugh, as he turned
over the paper as though seeking an address,
and laid it back in the box.
“A note from my brother to an anonymous
lady,” he observed quietly. “Perhaps if
we could find out whom it was meant for
she would throw some light on the mystery.”


CHAPTER VIII
KELSON'S PERPLEXITY
- 4. HAT do you think of Mr. Gervase
Henshaw 2 ” Kelson said, as, late
in the afternoon, he and Gifford walked
towards the town together. Henshaw had
left Wynford Place half an hour previously,
having kept to the end his attitude of resent-
ful incredulity.
“A nailer,” Gifford answered shortly.
“Yes,” Kelson agreed. “He gives one
the idea of a man who will make trouble if
he can. As offensive as his brother was, I
should say, although in a different line. I
did not detect one sign of any consideration
for the Morristons in their horribly unpleasant
position.”
“No,” Gifford agreed. “I was very sorry
for Morriston. He behaved extremely well,
considering the irritatingly antagonistic line
the man chose to take up.”
89 *-


90 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
*
“Brainy man, Henshaw; unpleasantly
sharp, eh?”
“Yes,” Gifford replied. “Added to his
legal training he is by way of being an
expert in criminology.” -
“I do hope,” Kelson remarked thought-
fully, “he is not going to make himself
unpleasant down here. The scandal will be
quite enough without that. Horribly rough
luck on the Morristons as new-comers here
to have an affair like this happening in their
house. I can’t think what brought the man
down here.”
“No ; he came with a purpose, that's
certain.”
“A woman in it, no doubt. One can
quite sympathize with the brother's incred-
ulity as to the suicide theory, though hardly
with his manner of showing it. The dead
man was not that sort. The idea is simply
staggering.”
Gifford made no response, and for a while
they walked on in silence. Presently, he
asked, “How did you get on to-day—I mean
with Colonel Tredworth 2 ”
“Oh, everything went off beautifully,”


92 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Then you will have to find a house, and
get furniture. And there is the trousseau,”
Gifford urged.
“Oh,” Kelson returned with a show of
impatience, “all these details can be got over
in two or three weeks if we set ourselves to do
it. I don’t believe in waiting once the thing
is settled.” -
“I don't believe in rushing matters,”
Gifford rejoined. “Least of all matrimony.”
Kelson stopped dead. “Why, Hugh,” he
said in an expostulatory tone, “what is the
matter with you ? You are most confound-
edly unsympathetic. Any one would think
you did not want me to marry the girl.”
“I certainly don't want you to be in too
great a hurry,” Gifford returned calmly.
“But why? Why?”
“I feel it is a mistake.”
Kelson laughed. “You are not going to
suggest we don't know our own minds.”
“Hardly. But why not wait till the
family returns 2 Of course it is no business
of mine.”
“No,” Kelson replied with a laugh of
annoyance ; “ and you can’t be expected


KELSON's PERPLEXITY 93
to enter into my feelings on the subject.
But I think you might be a little kess grudging
of your sympathy.”
“You quite mistake me, Harry,” Gifford
replied warmly. “It is only in your own
interest that I counsel you not to be in a
hurry.”
“But why 2 What, in heaven's name,
do you mean 2 ” Kelson demanded, vaguely
apprehensive.
“It is a mistake to rush things, that is
all,” was the unsatisfactory answer.
“If I saw the slightest chance of danger
I would not hesitate to take your advice,”
Kelson said. “But I don't. Nor do you.
Since when have you become so cautious 2 ”
Gifford forced a laugh. “It is coming
on with age.”
Kelson clapped him on the shoulder.
“Don’t encourage it, my dear Hugh. It
will spoil all the enjoyment in your life, and
in other people's too, if you force the note.
I promise you I won't hurry on the wedding
more than is absolutely necessary.”
“Very well,” Gifford responded, and the
subject dropped.
.*


94 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
-
They had finished dinner, at which the
absorbing subject of the tragedy at Wynford
Place was the main topic of their conversa-
tion, when the landlord came in to say that
Mr. Gervase Henshaw, who was staying at
the hotel, would like to see them if they were
disengaged.
Kelson looked across at his friend. “Shall
we see him 2 °
Gifford nodded. “We had better hear
what he has to say. We don't want him
worrying Morriston.”
“Ask Mr. Henshaw up,” Kelson said to
the landlord, and in a minute he was ushered
111.
With a quick, decisive movement Henshaw
took the seat to which Kelson invited him.
“I trust you won't think me intrusive,
gentlemen,” he began in his sharp mode of
speaking, “but you will understand I am
very much upset and horribly perplexed
by the terrible fate which has overtaken
my poor brother. I am setting myself to
search for a clue, if ever so slight, to the
mystery, the double mystery, I may say,
and it occurred to me that perhaps a talk


KELSON'S PERPLEXITY 95
with you gentlemen who are, so far, the last
known persons who spoke with him, might
possibly give me a hint.”
“I’m afraid there is very little we can tell
you,” Gifford replied. - “But we are at your
service.”
“Thank you.” It seemed the first civil
word of acknowledgment they had heard him
utter. “First of all,” he proceeded, falling
back to his dry, lawyer-like tone, “I have
been to see the medical man who was sum-
moned to look at the body, Dr. Page. He
tells me that, so far as his cursory examina-
tion went, the position of the wound hardly
suggests that it was self-inflicted.”
“Is he sure of it 2 ” Kelson asked.
“He won't be positive till he has made
the autopsy,” Henshaw answered. “He
merely suggests that it was a very awkward
and altogether unlikely place for a man to
wound himself. Anyhow that guarded opin-
ion is enough to strengthen my inclination
to scout the idea of suicide.”
“Then,” said Kelson, “we are faced by
the difficulty of the locked door.”
Henshaw made a gesture of indifference,


KELSON'S PERPLEXITY 97
reserve which could scarcely be satisfying
to Henshaw.
“Perhaps,” he said keenly, “you have
also an idea who the lady was.”
Gifford shook his head. “Not at all,” he
returned promptly.
“Then why should the idea have sug-
gested itself to you,” came the cross-examin-
ing rejoinder.
“Your brother was not a member of the
Hunt, and it seemed to us—curious.”
Henshaw took him up quickly. “That
he should come to the ball 2 No doubt.
I will be perfectly frank with you, as I
expect you to be with me. It is perhaps not
quite seemly to discuss my brother's failings
at this time, but we want to get at the truth
about his death. He had, I fear, rather
irregular methods in his treatment of women.
One can hardly blame him, poor fellow.
His was a fascinating personality, at any
rate so far as women were concerned. They
ran after him, and one can scarcely blame
him if he acquired a derogatory opinion of
them. After all, he held them no cheaper
than they made themselves in his eyes. That
G


98 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
note I looked at which came from his pocket
was written by him to make an assigna-
tion.”
“Was it addressed ?” Gifford put the
question quickly, almost eagerly.
“No,” Henshaw answered. “I wish it
had been. In that case we should be near
the end of the mystery.”
Kelson was staring at the glib speaker with
astounded eyes. “Do you suppose a woman
killed your brother ?” he almost gasped.
“Such things have been known,” Hen-
shaw returned with the flicker of an enig-
matical smile. “But no, I don't suggest
that—yet. At present I have got no farther
than the conviction that Clement did not
kill himself. I mean to find out for whom
that note of his was intended.”
“Not an easy task,” Gifford remarked,
with his eye furtively on Kelson, who had
become strangely interested. "
“It may or may not be easy,” Henshaw
returned. “But it is to be done. The
woman who, intentionally or otherwise,
drew my brother down here has to be found,
and I mean to find her.”


KELSON'S PERPLEXITY 99
Kelson was now staring almost stupidly at T
Gifford.
“Neither of you gentlemen saw my brother
dancing P” Henshaw demanded sharply. .
“I saw nothing of him at all in the ball-
room,” Gifford answered, “as I did not
arrive till about midnight. Did you see him,
Harry 2 " he asked, as though with the design
of rousing Kelson from his rather suspicious
attitude.
Kelson seemed to pull himself together by
an effort. - -
“No-yes; I caught a glimpse of him, I
think, with a girl in green.” º
“You know who she was 2 ” Henshaw
demanded.
“I’ve not the vaguest idea,” Kelson an-
swered mechanically. “I did not see her
face.”
Henshaw rose. Perhaps from Kelson's
manner he gathered that the men were
tired, and had had enough of him. He shook
hands, with a word of thanks and an apology.
“We may know more after the inquest
to-morrow afternoon,” he remarked, “ al-
though I doubt it. You will let me consult
824.569


IOO THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
you again, if necessary 2 Thanks. Good-
night.”
As the door closed on Henshaw, Kelson
turned quickly to Gifford with a scared face.
“Hugh ' " he cried hoarsely, in a voice
subdued by fear. “The blood stain on my
cuff that night. How did it come there 2
Was it 2 ”
Gifford forced a smile. “My dear Harry,
how absurd ' What could that have had to
do with it 2 ”
Kelson gave an uncomfortable laugh. “It
is a grim coincidence,” he said.


CHAPTER IX
THE CLOAK OF NIGHT
T the inquest which was held next day
nothing was elicited which could offer
any solution of the mystery of Clement Hen-
shaw's death. It seemed to be pretty gener-
ally accepted to be a case of suicide, although
that view was opposed in evidence, not only
by Gervase Henshaw on general grounds, but
also by the medical witnesses, who had grave
doubts whether the mortal wound had been
self-inflicted. -
“Just possible but decidedly improbable,
both from the position of the wound and the
direction of the blow,” was Dr. Page's opinion.
It was a downward, oblique stab in the
throat which had pierced the larynx and
penetrated the jugular vein. The deceased
would have been unable to cry out and would
probably have quickly become insensible
101


I02 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
fiom asphyxiation. Unless he was left-
handed the stab could scarcely have been
self-given.
The police authorities committed them--
selves to no definite theory at that stage, and
at their request the inquiry was adjourned
for a month.
Morriston, leaving the hall with Kelson and
Gifford, asked them to walk back with him to
Wynford Place.
“Let us throw off this depressing business
as well as we can,” he said. “Of course I
have had to break it to my sister and the
others; they would have seen it to-day in
print. Thank goodness the papers don't
look beyond the suicide idea, so they are not
making much fuss about it. If they took a
more sensational view, as I fear they will now
after the medical evidence, it would be a
terrible nuisance.”
“I hope the ladies were not much upset
when you told them,” Gifford remarked.
“Well, they already had an idea that some-
thing was seriously wrong, and that took the
edge off the announcement. Of course they
were horribly shocked at the idea of the


THE CLOAK OF NIGHT I03
tragedy so close at hand, though I softened
the details as well as I could.”
“If the suicide idea is to be abandoned,”
said Kelson, speaking with an unusually
gloomy, preoccupied air, “the police have an
uncommonly difficult and delicate task before
them.”
“Yes, indeed,” Morriston responded.
“And I should say that abnormally keen
person, the brother, will keep them up to
collar.” -
“He means to,” Kelson replied rather
grimly. “We had him for an hour last night
cross-examining us, naturally to no purpose ;
we could tell him nothing.”
“He won’t leave a stone unturned,” Mor-
riston said. “He proposes to return here
after the funeral in town.”
“And I should say,” observed Kelson, “if
the mystery is to be solved he is the man to
solve it. What do you think, Hugh 2 ”
Gifford seemed to rouse himself by an effort
from an absorbing train of thought. “Oh,
yes,” he answered. “Except that it is pos-
sible to be a little too clever and so over-
look the obvious.”
y


ro4 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“If,” said Morriston, obsessed by the sub-
ject, “the case is not one of suicide it must
be one of murder. Where is Mr. Gervase
Henshaw, or any one else, going to look for
the criminal 2 º
“Not among your guests, let's hope,”
Kelson said with a touch of uneasiness.
“For one thing,” Morriston replied, “they,
or a good part of them, were not exactly my
guests. I can't tell who may have got a
ticket and been present. There was a great
crowd. We may have easily rubbed shoulders
with the murderer, if murder it was.”
“Yes, so we may,” said Kelson alertly,
though with something of a shudder.
“Not a pleasant idea,” continued Morris-
ton. “But I don’t see, if a bad character did
get in and mix with the company, why he
should have done a fellow guest to death, nor
how he contrived to leave his victim and get
out of the room after he had locked the door.”
“If the two men had a row over a girl, or
anything else,” Kelson said, “there is still
that difficulty to be surmounted.”
Gifford spoke. “From what one could
judge of the dead man's personality and char-


THE CLOAK OF NIGHT I05
acter it is not a far-fetched supposition that
he must have had enemies.”
“Down here 2 ” Morrison objected in-
credulously. “Where he was a stranger ?
Unless some ingenious person, bent on ven-
geance, tracked him here and then lured him
into the tower. Then how did the determined
pursuer contrive to leave him and the key
inside the locked room 2 ”
At Wynford Place, where they had now
arrived, they found several callers. The sub-
ject of the tragedy was naturally uppermost
in everybody's mind, and the principal topic
of conversation. Morriston and his com-
panions were eagerly questioned as to what
had come out at the inquest, but, except that
the medical evidence was rather sceptical of
the suicide theory, were unable to relieve the
curiosity.
“I think, my dear Dick,” remarked Lord
Painswick, who was there, “we can furnish
more evidence in this room than you seem to
have got hold of at the inquest.” And he
looked round the company with a knowing
smile.
“What do you mean, Painswick 2 ” Mor-


IO6 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
riston asked eagerly. “Has anything more
come to light 2 ” -
“Only we have had a lady here, Miss
Elyot, who says she danced with the poor
fellow.”
“I only just took a turn with him, for the
waltz was nearly over when he asked me,”
said the girl thus alluded to.
“Did you wear a green dress 2 ” Kelson
asked eagerly.
“Yes. Why?”
“Only that it must have been you I saw
with him.”
“And can you throw any light on the
mystery 2 ” Morriston asked.
The girl shook her head. “None at all,
I'm afraid.”
“Did Mr. Henshaw's manner or state of
mind strike you as being peculiar * *
“Not in the least,” Miss Elyot answered
with decision. “During the short time we
were together our talk was quite common-
place, mostly of the changes in the county.”
“Did he, Henshaw, know it formerly 2 ”
Morriston asked with some surprise.
“Oh, yes,” Miss Elyot answered, “he used


THE CLOAK OF NIGHT 107
to stay with some people over at Lamberton;
you remember the Peltons, Muriel ?” she
turned to Miss Tredworth. “Of course you
do.”
“Oh, yes,” Muriel Tredworth answered.
“I remember them quite well, although we
didn’t know much about them.”
“Don’t you recollect,” Miss Elyot con-
tinued, “meeting this very Mr. Henshaw at a
big garden party they gave. I know you
played tennis with him.”
“Did I ?” Miss Tredworth replied.
“What a memory you have, Gladys. You
can't expect me to recollect every one of the
scores of men I must have played tennis
With.”
As she spoke she caught Gifford's eye; he
was watching her keenly, more closely per-
haps than manners or tact warranted. “And
do you find the place much changed since
your time, Mr. Gifford 2 ” she inquired, as
though to relieve the awkwardness.
“Not as much as I could have imagined,”
he answered, through what seemed a fit of
preoccupation.
“Mr. Gifford has not had much oppor-


THE CLOAK OF NIGHT- Io9
“We will stroll round and admire when we
leave.”
“Don’t stroll over the edge of the haha
as I very nearly did one night,” Morriston
said laughingly. “When it lies in the shadow
of the house it is a regular trap.” -
“Moonlight has its dangers as well as its
beauties,” Painswick murmured sententiously.
“The friendly cloak of night is apt to trip
one up,” Gifford added.
As he spoke the words there came a start-
ling little cry from Miss Tredworth accom-
panied by the crash and clatter of falling
crockery. Gifford's remark had been made
with his eyes fixed on his friend's fiancée, to
whom at that moment Miss Morrison was
handing the refilled cup of tea. A hand of
each girl was upon the saucer as the words
were uttered ; by whose fault it was let fall
it was impossible to say. But the slight cry
of dismay had come from Miss Tredworth.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” she exclaimed, colour-
ing with vexation. “How stupid and clumsy
of me. Your lovely china.”
“It was my fault,” Edith Morriston pro-
tested, her clear-cut face showing no trace
*


IIO THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
of annoyance. “I thought you had hold of
the cup, and I let it go too soon. Ring the
bell, will you, Dick.”
“Please don't distress yourself, Miss Tred-
worth,” Mr. Morriston entreated her as he
crossed to the bell. “I’m sure it was not
your fault.”
“Was that a quotation, Mr. Gifford 2 ”Miss
Morriston asked, clearly with the object of
dismissing the unfortunate episode.
“My remark about the cloak of night 2 ”
he replied. “Perhaps. I seem to have heard
something like it somewhere.”
And as he spoke he glanced curiously at Miss
Tredworth.


º
CHAPTER X
AN ALARMING Discovery
EXT evening the two friends at the
Golden Lion were engaged to dine
with the Morristons. They had been out
with the hounds all day, and, beyond the
natural gossip of the country-side, had heard
nothing fresh concerning the tragedy. Ger-
vase Henshaw had gone up to town for his
brother's funeral, and Host Dipper had no
fresh development to report. In answer to a
question from Gifford, he said he expected
Mr. Henshaw back on the morrow, or at latest
the day after.
“It is altogether a most mysterious affair,”
he observed sagely, being free, now that his
late guest's perplexing disappearance was
accounted for, even in that tragic fashion, to
regard the business and to moralize over it
without much personal feeling in the matter.
“I fancy Mr. Gervase Henshaw means to
111


II2 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
work the police up to getting to the bottom
of it. For I don't fancy that he is by any
means satisfied that his unfortunate brother
took his own life. And I must say,” he added
in a pronouncement evidently the fruit of
careful deliberation, “I don’t know how it
strikes you, gentlemen, but from what I saw
of the deceased it is hard to imagine him as
making away with himself.”
“Yes,” Gifford replied. “But before any
other conclusion can be fairly arrived at the
police will have to account for the locked
door.”
Evidently Mr. Dipper's lucubrations had
not, so far, reached a satisfactory explanation
of that puzzle ; he could only wag his head
and respond generally, “Ah, yes. That
will be a hard nut for them to crack, I'm
thinking.”
The dinner at Wynford Place was made as
cheerful as, with the gloom of a tragedy over
the house, could be possible.
“We had the police with a couple of dev
tectives here all this morning,” Morriston
said, “and a great upset it has been. After
having made the most minute scrutiny of


AN ALARMING Discovery 113
the room in the tower they had every one of
the servants in one by one and put them
through a most searching examination. But,
I imagine, without result. No one in the
house, and I have questioned most of them
casually myself, seems to be able to throw
the smallest light on the affair.”
“Have the police arrived at any theory 2 ”
Gifford inquired.
“Apparently they have come to no definite
conclusion,” Morriston answered. “They
seemed to have an idea, though—to account
for the problem of the locked door—that
thieves might have got into the house with
the object of making a haul in the bedrooms
while every one's attention was engaged
down below, have secreted themselves in the
tower, been surprised by Henshaw, and, to
save themselves, have taken the only effectual
means of silencing him, poor fellow.”
“Then how, with the door locked on the
inside did they make their escape 2 ” Miss
Morriston asked.
“That can so far be only a matter of con-
jecture,” her brother answered, with a shrug.
“Of course they might have provided them-
H


114 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
selves with some sort of ladder, but there are
no signs of it. And the height of the window
in that top room is decidedly against the
theory.” -
“We hear at the Lion,” Kelson remarked,
“ that the brother, Gervase Henshaw, is
returning to-morrow or next day.”
Morriston did not receive the news with any
appearance of satisfaction. “I hope he won't
come fussing about here,” he said, with a
touch of protest. “Making every allowance
for the sudden shock under which he was
labouring I thought his attitude the other
day most objectionable, didn't you ?”
“I did most certainly,” Gifford answered
promptly.
“His manners struck me as deplorable,”
Kelson agreed.
“Yes,” their host continued. “It never
seemed to occur to the fellow that some little
sympathy was due also to us. But he seemed
rather to suggest that the tragedy was our
fault. In ordinary circumstances I should
have dealt pretty shortly with him. But it
was not worth while.” -
, “No,” Kelson observed. “ All the same,


II.6 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“I shall,” his sister replied.
“I should say no respecter of persons—or
anything else,” Kelson remarked with a laugh.
“Let us hope he won't take it into his head
to worry us,” Miss Morriston said with quiet
indifference.
“I am sorry to see,” Morriston observed
later on when the ladies had left them, “ that
the papers are beginning to take a sensational
view of the affair.”
“Yes,” Kelson responded ; “we noticed
that. It will be a nuisance for you.”
“The trouble has already begun,” his host
continued somewhat ruefully. “We have
had two or three reporters here to-day worry-
ing the servants with all sorts of absurd ques-
tions. It is, of course, all to be accounted
for by the medical evidence. That has put
them on the scent of what they will no doubt
call a sensational development. So long as
it looked like nothing beyond suicide there
was not so much likelihood of public interest
in the case.”
“The police—” Gifford began.
“The police,” Morriston took up the word,
“are fairly non-plussed. It seems the farther


II8 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
at Gifford, and he was certain they were
speaking of him.
With the gloom of a tragedy over the house
the little party could not be very festive;
avoid it as they set themselves to do, the
brooding Subject could not be ignored, general
conversation flagged, and it soon became
time for the visitors to say good-night.
As they walked back to the town together
Gifford noticed that his companion was un-
usually silent, and he tactfully forbore to
break in upon his preoccupation. At length
Kelson spoke.
“Muriel has just been telling me of an un-
pleasant and unaccountable thing which hap-
pened to her this evening. A discovery of a
rather alarming character. I said I would
take your advice about it, Hugh, and she
agreed.”
“Does it concern the affair at Wynford 2 ”
“It may,” Kelson answered in a perplexed
tone; “and yet I don’t well see how it can.
Anyhow it is uncommonly mysterious. We
won't talk about it here,” he added gravely,
“but wait till we get in.”
“Miss Morriston looked well to-night,”


AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 119
Gifford remarked, falling in with his friend's
wish to postpone the more engrossing subject.
“Yes,” Kelson agreed casually. “She
takes this ghastly business quietly enough.
But that is her way.”
“I have been wondering,” Gifford said,
“how much she cares for Painswick. He is
manifestly quite smitten, but I doubt her
being, nearly as keen on him.”
Kelson laughed. “If you ask me I don't
think she cares a bit for him. And one can
scarcely be surprised. He is not a bad fellow,
but rather a prig, and Edith Morriston is not
exactly the sort of girl to suffer that type of
man gladly. But her brother is all for the .
match ; from Painswick's point of view she
is just the wife for him, money and a statu-
esque style of beauty; altogether I shall be
surprised if it does not come off.”
“They are not engaged, then 2 ”
“I think not. They say he proposes
regularly once a week. But she holds him
Off.”
Arrived at the Golden Lion they went
straight up to Kelson's room, where with more
curiosity than he quite cared to show, Gifford


120 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
settled himself to hear what the other had to
tell him.
“I dare say you noticed how worried Muriel
looked all dinner-time,” Kelson began. “I
thought that what had happened in the house
had got on her nerves; but it was something
worse than that ; I mean touching her more
nearly.”
“Tell me,” Gifford said quietly.
“You know,” Kelson proceeded, “they are
going to this dance at Hasborough to-morrow.
Well, it appears that when her maid was over-
hauling her ball-dress, the same she wore here
the other night, she found blood stains on it.”
“That,” Gifford remarked coolly, “may satis-
factorily account for the marks on your cuff.”
Kelson stared in surprise at the other's
coolness.
“I dare say it does,” he exclaimed with a
touch of impatience. “I had hardly con-
nected the two. But what do you think of
this 2 How in the name of all that's mysteri-
ous can it be accounted for 2 ”
“Hardly by the idea that Miss Tredworth
had anything to do with the late tragedy,”
was the quiet answer.


AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 123
sympathetically on his shoulder. - “I am
sorry to seem so brutal, Harry,” he said
gently, “but this discovery does not surprise
me.”
Kelson recoiled as from a blow, staring at
his friend with a horror-struck face. “Why,
good heavens, what do you mean?” he gasped.
“Only,” Gifford answered calmly, “that
when you introduced me to Miss Tredworth
at the dance I noticed the stains on the white
flowers she wore.”
“You did 2 ” Kelson was staring stupidly
at Gifford. “And you knew they were blood-
stains 2 ”
“I could not tell that,” was the -answer.
“But now it is pretty certain they were.”
For some seconds neither man spoke.
Then with an effort Kelson seemed to nerve
himself to put another question.
“Hugh,” he said, his eyes pitiful with fear,
“you—you don't think Muriel Tredworth
had anything to do with Henshaw's death 2 ”
Gifford turned away, and leaned on the
mantelpiece.
“I don’t know what to think,” he said
gloomily *


CHAPTER XI
*
GIFFORD’s COMMISSION
EXT morning directly after breakfast
Kelson started for Wynford Place.
As the result of deliberating fully upon the
anxious problem before them, he and Gifford
had come to the conclusion that it might be
a grave mistake to try to keep secret the
maid's discovery. It would doubtless by this
time have become a subject of gossip and
speculation in the household and conse-
quently would very soon become public.
Accordingly it was arranged that Kelson
should arrive first and have a private inter-
view with Muriel Tredworth with a view to
ascertaining finally and for certain whether
she could in any way account for the stain on
her dress. Gifford was to follow half an hour
later, when they would have a conference with
the Morristons and afterwards, with their
approval, go into the town and see the chief
* - 124


GIFFORD'S COMMISSION I25
constable on the subject. If Gifford was
doubtful as to the expediency of the plan,
and it was with a considerable amount of
hesitation that he brought himself to agree
to it, he seemed to have no good reason to
urge against it. And, after all, it appeared,
in the circumstances, the only politic course
to follow. Secrecy was practically now out
of the question, and any attempt in that
direction would inevitably fail and would in all
probability produce results unpleasant to
contemplate.
When Gifford arrived at Wynford Place he
found Kelson pacing the drive and impati-
ently expecting him.
“Come along,” he exclaimed, “the Morris-
tons are waiting for us.”,
“Miss Tredworth ?”
“Is utterly unable to account for the state
of her dress,” Kelson declared promptly.
“She is positive that if she noticed the man
she never spoke a word to him, nor danced
with him. She says that if she ever met him
before, as according to that girl the other
day was the case, she had quite forgotten the
circumstance. So the sooner we communi-


I26 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
cate this discovery to the police the better.
As it is, they say the servants are talking of
it; so the present position is quite intolerable.”
In the library they found Morriston and his
sister with the Tredworths. The situation
was discussed and there seemed no doubt in
the mind of any one of the party that the
only thing to be done was to inform the police
at Once.
“The whole affair is so mysterious,” Morris-
ton said, “that all sorts of absurd rumours
will be afloat if we don't take a strong, straight-
forward line at once. Don't you agree,
Edith ? '' "
“Certainly I do,” Miss Morriston answered
with decision. “I don't suppose,” she added
with a smile, “that any one would be mad
enough to suggest, my dear Muriel, that you
were in any way implicated in the affair; but
the world is full of stupid and ill-natured
people and one can't be too careful to put
oneself in the right. Don't you agree, Cap-
tain Kelson 2 ”
“Most decidedly,” Kelson replied, with a
troubled face. Charlie Tredworth was also
quite emphatically of opinion that his sister


GIFFORD'S COMMISSION I27
should make no secret of what had been found.
“The inspector, who is here,” Morriston
said, “tells me that Major Freeman, our chief
constable, intends to come here this morning.
I’ll say we want to see him directly he arrives.”
It was not long before the chief constable
was shown into the library. Morriston lost
no time in telling him of the mysterious cir-
cumstance which had come to light. Major
Freeman, a keen soldierly man, with the stern
expression and uncompromising manner
naturally acquired by those whose business
is to deal with crime, received the information
with grave perplexity. He turned a search-
ing look upon Muriel Tredworth.
“I understand you are quite unable to
account for the stains on your dress, Miss
Tredworth 2 ” he asked in a tone of courteous
insistence.
“Quite,” she answered. ... “I did not speak
to Mr. Henshaw or even notice him in the
ball-room.”
“You had—pardon these questions; I am
putting this in your own interest—you had
at no time any acquaintance with Mr. Clement
Henshaw 2 ”
*
• *


128 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“I can hardly say that I had,” the girl re-
plied ; “although a friend has told me that I
played tennis with him at a garden-party some
years ago.” -
“A circumstance which you do not recol-
lect 2 ” The question was put politely, even
sympathetically, yet with a certain uncom-
fortable directness.
“No,” Muriel answered. “Even when I
was reminded of it, my recollection was of
the vaguest description. So far as that goes
I could neither admit nor deny it with any
certainty.”
“And naturally you never, to your know-
ledge, saw or communicated with the deceased
man since P ''
Muriel flushed. “No ; absolutely no,”
she returned with a touch of resentment at
the suggestion.
Major Freeman forbore to distress the girl
by any further questioning. “Thank you,”
he said simply. “I am sorry to have even
appeared to suggest such a thing, but you and
your friends will appreciate that it was my •
duty to ask these questions. This looks at the
moment,” he continued, addressing himself


GIFFORD’S COMMISSION I29
now to the party in general, “like proving a
very mysterious, and I will add, peculiarly
delicate affair. The medical evidence is
inclined to scout the idea of suicide, and my
men who have the case in hand are coming
round to the conclusion that the theory is
untenable.” -
“The locked door—” Morriston suggested.
“The locked door,” said Major Freeman,
“presents a difficulty, but still one not abso-
lutely incapable of solution. We know,” he
added, with a faint smile, “from the way the
door was eventually opened, that a key can be
turned from the other side, given the right
instrument to effect it.”
“Which only a burglar or a locksmith would
be likely to have,” Kelson suggested.
Major Freeman nodded. “Quite so. I
am not for a moment suggesting that as an
explanation of the mystery. It goes natur-
ally much deeper than that. Mr. Gervase
Henshaw is to look into his brother's affairs
and papers while in town, and I am hoping
that on his return here he may be able to give
some information which will afford a clue on
which we can work. In the meantime my
I


130 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
men are not relaxing their efforts in this
rather baffling case.”
“In which,” Morriston suggested, “this
new piece of evidence does not afford any
useful clue.” 4-
Major Freeman smiled, a little awkwardly,
it seemed. “If anything, it would appear
to complicate the problem still further,” he
replied guardedly. “Still, I am very glad
to have it, and thank you for informing me
so promptly. Miss Tredworth may rest as-
sured that should we find it necessary to go
still farther into this piece of evidence, it will
be done with as little annoyance as possible.”
Some of the chief constable's habitual stern-
ness of manner seemed to have returned to
him as he now rose to take leave. “I will
just confer with my men who are on the pre-
mises before I leave,” he said to Morriston in
a quiet authoritative tone. “They may have
something to report.” With that he bowed
to the company and quitted the room, leav-
ing behind him a rather uncomfortable feel-
ing which every one seemed to make an effort
to throw off.
But there was clearly nothing to be done
*


GIFFORD'S COMMISSION I31
-
except to let the police researches take their
course and to wait for developments. The
party at Wynford was going over to the dance
at Stowgrave that evening and it was arranged
that they would call for Kelson and Gifford
and all go on together. -
Accordingly at the appointed time the
carriage stopped at the Golden Lion ; Kelson
joining Miss Tredworth and her brother, while
Gifford drove with Morriston.
In answer to his companion's inquiry Mor-
riston said that he had heard of nothing fresh
in the Henshaw case.
“I saw Major Freeman for a moment as he
was leaving,” he said, “ and gathered that the
police were still at a loss for any satisfactory ex-
planation as to how the crime was committed.”
“He made no suggestion as to the stains on
Miss Tredworth's dress 2 ” Gifford asked.
“No. Although I fancy he is a good deal
exercised by that piece of evidence. Men-
tioned, as delicately as possible, that it might
be necessary to have the stains analyzed,
but did not wish the girl to be alarmed or
worried about it. I can't understand,” Mor-
riston added in a puzzled tone, “how on


132 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
earth she could possibly have had anything
to do with it.” *
“No,” Gifford assented thoughtfully;
“it is inconceivable, unless by the supposi-
tion that she may by some means have come
in contact with Some one who was concerned
in the crime.”
“You mean if a man had a stain on his
coat and danced with her 3 y
“Something of the sort. If there were
blood on his lapel or sleeve.”
“H'm It would be easy to ascertain for
certain whom she danced with,” Morriston said
reflectively. “But that again is almost un-
thinkable.”
“And,” Gifford added, “it seems to go no
way towards elucidating the problem of how
Henshaw came to his death. As a matter of
fact I should say Miss Tredworth danced and
sat out nearly the whole of the evening with
Kelson. You know he proposed at the dance?”
“Yes, I understood that. Poor Kelson :
I am sorry for him, and for them both. It is
an ominous beginning of their betrothal.”
“It is horrible,” Gifford observed sym-
pathetically. “Although one tries to think


GIFFORD’S COMMISSION I33
there is really nothing in it for them to be
concerned about.”
The dance was an enjoyable affair, and, at
any rate for the time, dispersed the depression
which had hung over the party from Wyn-
ford. Gifford had engaged Miss Morriston
for two waltzes, and after a turn or two in the
second his partner said she felt tired and sug-
gested they should sit out the rest of it. Ac-
cordingly they strolled off to an adjoining
room and made themselves comfortable in a
retired corner, Gifford, nothing loath to have
a quiet chat with the handsome girl whose
self-possessed manner with its suggestion of
underlying strength of feeling was beginning
to fascinate and intrigue his imagination.
“It is rather pleasant,” she said a little
wearily, “to get away from the atmosphere
of mystery and police investigation we have
been living in at home.” a
“Which I hope and believe will very soon
be over,” Gifford responded cheeringly.
Miss Morriston glanced at him curiously.
“You believe that 2 ” she returned almost
sharply. “How can you think so 2 It
seems to me that with little apparent likeli-


GIFFORD'S COMMISSION I35
“Objectionable 2 ” Gifford supplied as she
hesitated. “Unpleasantly sharp and ener-
getic, I should say. Although it is, perhaps,
hardly fair to judge a man labouring under
the stress of a brother's tragic death.”
“He is determined to get to the explanation
of the mystery 2 ” The tinge of excitement
she had exhibited in her former question had
now passed away : she now spoke in her
habitual cold, even tone.
“He says so. Naturally he will do all he
can to that end. Of course it would be a
satisfaction to know for certain how the
tragedy came about : not that it matters
much otherwise. But unfortunately he rather
poses as an expert in criminology, and that
will make for pertinacity.”
For a moment Miss Morriston kept silent.
“It is very unfortunate,” she murmured at
length. “It will worry poor old Dick hor-
ribly. I think he is already beginning to wish
he had never seen Wynford.”
Gifford leaned forward. “Oh, but, my dear
Miss Morriston,” he said earnestly, “you and
your brother must really not take the matter so
seriously. It is all very unpleasant, one must


136 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
admit, but, after all, except that it happened in
your house, I don't see that it affects you.”
“You think not,” Miss Morriston re-
sponded mechanically.
“Indeed I think so.” As he spoke Gifford
could not help a slight feeling of wonder that
this girl, from whom he would have expected
an attitude rather of indifference, should
allow herself to be so greatly worried by the
affair. For that she was far more troubled
than she allowed to appear he was certain.
It is her pride, he told himself. A high-bred
girl like this would naturally hate the very
idea of a sensational scandal under her roof,
and all its unpleasant, rather sordid accom-
paniments. “I wish,” he added with a touch
of fervour, “that I could persuade you to dis-
miss any fear of annoyance from your mind.”
“I wish you could,” she responded dully,
with an attempt at a smile. Suddenly she
turned to him with more animation in her
manner than she had hitherto shown. “Mr.
Gifford, you—I ” she hesitated as though
at a loss how to put what she wished to say :
“I have no right to ask you, who are a com-
parative stranger, to help us in this—this
*


GIFFORD'S COMMISSION 137
worry, but if you cared to be of assistance I
am sure you could.”
“Of course, of course I will,” he answered
with eager gladness. “Only let me know
what you wish and you may command the
very utmost I can do. And please don't think
of me as a stranger.”
Edith Morriston smiled, and to Gifford it
was the most fascinating Smile he had ever
seen. “Only let me know how I can serve
you,” he said, his pulses tingling.
“I am thinking of my brother,” she re-
plied, in a tone so friendly that it neutralized
the rather damping effect of the words. “He
is worrying over this business more than one
who does not know him well would think. I
had an idea, Mr. Gifford, that you might help
us by, in a way, standing between us, so far as
might be possible, and this Mr. Gervase Hen-
shaw. He stays at your hotel, does he not ?”
“Yes; he is expected there to-morrow
morning, if not to-night.”
“You may perhaps,” the girl proceeded,
“be able—I don’t know how, and I have no
right to ask it—”
“Please, Miss Morriston | "Gifford pleaded.


138 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“To minimize any annoyance we are likely
to suffer through his—his uncomfortable
zeal,” she resumed hesitatingly. “If not
that, you may, if he is friendly with you,
have an opportunity of getting to hear some-
thing of his plans and ideas, and warning me
if he is likely to worry us at Wynford. We
don't want the tragedy kept alive indefin-
itely; it would be intolerable. I am sure
you understand how I feel. That is all.”
“You may rely on me to the utmost,”
Gifford assured her fervently, in answer to the
question in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, as she rose. “I felt
sure I mightask you this favour and trust you.”
She made a slight movement of putting out
her hand. The gesture was coldly made ; it
might, indeed, have been checked, and gone
for nothing. But Gifford, keenly on the
alert for a sign of regard, was quick to take
the hand and press it impulsively.
“You may trust me, Miss Morriston,” he
murmured.
“Thank you,” she responded simply, but,
he was glad to notice, with a touch of relief.
She lightly took his arm and they went back
to the ball-room. -
y
-


CHAPTER XII
HAD HENSHAw A CLUE 2
EXT day Gervase Henshaw made his
expected reappearance in Branchester.
He left his luggage at the Golden Lion and
then went off to the police-station where he
had a long interview with the chief constable.
Mindful of his promise to Edith Morriston,
Hugh Gifford kept about the town with the
object of coming across Henshaw and getting
to know, if possible, something of his inten-
tions. The attraction he had, even from their
first introduction, felt towards Miss Morriston
had become quickly intensified by their
strangely confidential talk on the previous
evening. So far she was to him something
of a puzzle, but a puzzle of the most fascinat-
ing kind. It was, perhaps, strangely un-
accountable that she should have chosen to
invoke his help who was little more than a
casual acquaintance; still, he argued as he
reviewed the situation, she had probably
139


140 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
been drawn to him as the one man on the
spot who was likely to be of use to them. Her
brother, a good, sensible fellow of some char-
acter, was nevertheless an ordinary country
gentleman, given up to sport of all kinds and
naturally quite unversed in the subtleties
of life and character which can be studied
only by those who live in the more intellectual
atmosphere of cities. The same judgment
would apply to his friend Kelson, a chivalrous
sportsman, who would unselfishly do any-
thing in his power to be of help, but whose
ability and penetration by no means matched
his willingness. And probably these men
were types of the bulk of the Morristons'
friends and acquaintances, at any rate of
those who were immediately available. Con-
sequently, Gifford concluded, it had been to
himself she had turned in this trouble, influ-
enced no doubt by the idea that a Londoner
with legal training and experience of the
world in its many aspects would be the best
man she could enlist to help her. * That her
confidence had been drawn by any particular
personal liking he never for one moment ad-
mitted; that unfortunately was so far all on


HAD HENSHAW A CLUE 2 141
one side, whatever hopes the future might
hold out to him. Anyhow he blessed his
luck that an accident had so quickly broken
the ice and established a state of confidential
relationship between them. As to there
being an adequate reason for alarm Gifford
was not inclined to question, since he quite
realized that this man Henshaw might easily
constitute himself a grave annoyance to the
Morristons. A clever girl like Edith Morriston,
more sensitive than to a casual observer
would appear, had naturally recognized this
danger and was anxious to have the man,
with his, perhaps, none too scrupulous
methods, held in check ; and to this service
Gifford was only too happy to devote himself,
glad beyond measure that the opportunity
had been given him by the girl who had filled
his thoughts.
It was not until evening that he came across
Henshaw, it being to his mind essential not
to appear anxious or to seek out the crimin-
ologist with the obvious view of getting infor-
mation as to his plans.
“So you are back again, Mr. Henshaw,”
he said with a careless nod of greeting as they


142 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
encountered in the hall of the hotel. “I
hear the police have not yet arrived at any
satisfactory conclusion.”
Henshaw drew back his lips in a slight
smile." To Gifford the expression was an
ugly one, and he wondered what it portended.
“There is a likelihood of our not being at
a loss much longer,” Henshaw replied, speak-
ing through his teeth with a certain grim
satisfaction.
“What, you have made a discovery 2 ”
Gifford exclaimed. -
Henshaw's face hardened. “I am not yet
at liberty to say what I have found,” he re-
turned in an uncompromising tone. “But
I think you may take it from me as absolutely
certain that my brother did not take his own
life.” -
With pursed lips Gifford nodded accept-
ance of the statement. “That makes the
affair look serious, not to say sensational,”
he responded. * “I Suppose one must not
ask you whether you have a clue to the per-
petrator.”
“No, I can hardly say that yet,” Henshaw
answered with a rather cunning look. “You,


HAD HENSHAW A CLUE 2 143
as one of our profession, Mr. Gifford, will
understand that and the unwisdom of pre-
mature statements.”
“Certainly I do,” Gifford agreed promptly.
“And am quite content to restrain my curi-
osity till I get information from the papers.”
Henshaw laughed intriguingly. “There are
certain things that don’t find their way into the
Press,” he said meaningly. “The real story
in this case may turn out to be one of them.”-
Eager as he was, Gifford resolved to show
no further curiosity. “You know best,” he
rejoined almost casually. “But I hope for
the Morristons' sake the mystery will be soon
satisfactorily cleared up.”
There was a peculiar glitter in Henshaw's
eyes as he replied, “No doubt they are
anxious.”
“Naturally. They are getting rather
worried by all this police fuss.”
“Naturally.” Henshaw repeated Gifford's
word with a curious emphasis. “It is un-
fortunate for them,” he added. - “But all
the same it is imperative that the manner of
my brother's death should be thoroughly
investigated.”


144 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
He nodded, and as unwilling to discuss the
matter further, opened a newspaper and
turned away.
About noon next day Gifford went with
Kelson to Wynford Place. They had seen
nothing more of Henshaw who, it seemed,
was rather inclined to hold away from them,
possibly with a view to avoiding an oppor-
tunity of discussing the affair, or because he
was occupied in following up some clue he
had, or thought he had, got hold of. This
was naturally a disappointment to Gifford,
who was anxious, on Miss Morriston's behalf, to
keep himself posted as to Henshaw's intentions.
“Of course,” said Kelson, “the fellow
will have heard of the stains found on Muriel’s
dress, and will set himself to make the most
of that discovery. I only hope he won't
take to worrying her. She is quite enough
upset about it without that.”
“Doubtless that is why he is keeping away
from us,” Gifford observed. “He probably
has heard of your engagement.”
“And has the decency to see that he cannot
very well discuss the matter with us,” Kelson
added.


146 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
or at least thinks he has,” Gifford proceeded.
“But what it is he did not tell me. In fact
he rather declined to discuss the affair. I
fancy he had had a long consultation with
the police authorities.” -
“And he would tell you nothing 2 °
“Nothing. I rather expected he might
have come, as before, to discuss the case with
us, but he has made a point of keeping away.
I hear, however, from your brother that he
seems far less objectionable this time.”
Somewhat to Gifford's surprise, she gave
a rather grudging assent. “Yes, I suppose
he is. I happened to see him on his arrival,
and he certainly was polite enough, but it
is possible to be even objectionably polite.”
Gifford glanced at her curiously, wondering
what had taken place to call forth the remark.
“I know that,” he said. “I do hope the
man has not annoyed you. From what your
brother told us—" º
“Oh, no,” she interrupted, “I can't say
he has annoyed me—from his point of view.”
She laughed. “The man tried to be parti-
cularly agreeable, I think.”
“And succeeded in being the reverse,”


HAD HENSHAW A CLUE * 147
Gifford added. “I can quite understand.
Still, it might be worse.”
“Oh, yes,” she agreed in a tone which did
nothing to abate his curiosity.
The luncheon bell rang out and they turned.
“I haven't thanked you for looking after
our interests, Mr. Gifford,” the girl said.
“I have unfortunately been able to do
nothing,” he replied deprecatingly.
“But you have tried,” she rejoined graci-
ously, “ and it is not your fault if you have
not succeeded. It is a comfort to think that
we have a friend at hand ready to help us if
need be, and I am most grateful.”
The unusual feeling in her tone thrilled him.
“I should love to do something worthy of
your gratitude,” he responded, in a subdued
tone. -
“You take a lower view of your service
than I do,” she rejoined as they reached the
house, and no more could be said.
At luncheon the improvement which their
host had mentioned in Henshaw's attitude
was strikingly apparent. His dogmatic self-
assertiveness which had before been found
so irritating was laid aside ; his manner was


148 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
*
subdued, his tone was sympathetic as he
apologized for all the annoyance to which
his host and hostess were being put. Gifford,
watching him alertly, wondered at the change,
and more particularly at its cause, which
set him speculating. What did it portend ?
It seemed as though the complete alteration in
the man's attitude and manner might indicate
that he had got the solution of the mystery,
and no longer had that problem to worry him.
Certainly there was little to find fault with
in him to-day.
One thing, however, Gifford did not like,
and that was Henshaw's rather obvious
admiration for Edith Morriston. When they
took their places at table, she had motioned
to Gifford to sit beside her, and from that
position it gradually forced itself upon his
notice that Henshaw scarcely took his eyes
off his hostess, addressing most of his con-
versation, and he was a fluent talker, to her.
It was, of course, scarcely to be wondered at
that this handsome, capable girl should call
forth any man's admiration. Gifford him-
self was indeed beginning to fall desperately
in love with her, but this naturally made


-
WHAT GIFFORD SAW I5I
should have any farther result was out of the
question.
He had not had that day an opportunity
of any private talk with Miss Morriston, for
she had driven out after luncheon to pay a
call. But a certain suggestion of warmth in
her leave-taking had assured him that she
still looked for his help and that the con-
ditions were not changed.
What he had undertaken so eagerly was
now, however, not easy of accomplishment.
For reasons at which Gifford could only guess,
Henshaw seemed to be playing an elusive
game ; he kept out of sight, or, at any rate,
avoided all intercourse with the two friends,
and on the rare occasions when they met he
was to Gifford tantalizingly uncommunica-
tive. That something was evidently behind
his reticence made it all the more unsatis-
factory, since the result was that Gifford had
no object in going to Wynford Place, for he
had nothing to tell. Indeed he learnt more
from the Morristons-than from Henshaw.
The police had concluded their investigations
on the premises, much to the relief of the
household, who were now left in peace.


WHAT GIFFORD SAW I53
“Yes, it was curious,” Gifford agreed
reflectively. “Did he tell you what he
was doing about the business 2 ”
Morriston shook his head. “No ; he
wasn’t communicative ; didn’t seem to
have much to go upon. Of course one can't
tell what the fellow has at the back of his
mind, but I was rather surprised that a
Londoner of his energy and smartness should
spend his time loafing about down here with
what seems a poor chance of any result ; and I.
nearly told him so.”
“Perhaps it is as well you didn't,” Gifford
replied. “He is suspicious enough to
imagine you might have a motive in wanting
to get rid of him.”
Morriston laughed. “I have. He is not
exactly the man one wants to have prowling
about the place; but it would not be polite
to hint as much.”
The episode, trivial as it seemed to Morris-
ton, gave Gifford food for disagreeable reflec-
tion. Why, indeed, should Henshaw be hang-
ing about in the grounds of Wynford, and
give so unconvincing a reason 2 What
troubled Gifford most was that the man's


154 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
-
reticent attitude precluded all hope of his
learning anything of his plans which could
usefully be imparted to Miss Morriston.
Evidently there was nothing to be got out of
him; the rather open confidence he had dis-
played on his first appearance at Branchester
had quite disappeared, and if Gifford was to
find out anything worth reporting it would
assuredly not be due to any communication
from the man himself.
He had accordingly to be content with the
resolve to keep a wary eye on Henshaw's
movements.
He was now pretty free to do this. The
Tredworths had ended their visit at Wynford
and had returned home, and naturally Kel-
son spent much of his time over there, leaving
Gifford to his own devices. It had, in view
of Gifford's commission from Miss Morriston,
been arranged that he should share Kelson's
rooms at the Golden Lion, no longer as a
guest, so that both men were now independent
of each other. The date of Kelson's wedding
seemed now likely to be put off for some
months, as his friend had suggested. The
unpleasant episode of the stains on Muriel


WHAT GIFFORD SAW I55
Tredworth's dress had, although there was
no indication of attaching serious importance
to them, nevertheless cast an uncomfortable
shadow over the happiness of her betrothal,
and without giving any specific reason she
had declared for a postponement of the wed-
ding, for which there was, after all, a quite
natural reason.
“Perhaps it is just as well,” Kelson re-
marked to his friend. “Although it is abso-
lutely unthinkable that Muriel could have
had anything to do with the affair, yet one
can quite appreciate her wish to wait till
perhaps something crops up to give us the
explanation beyond all question. It is rather
a blow to me, and I hope if the mysterious
Mr. Gervase Henshaw is really on the track
of the crime he will produce his solution with-
out much more delay. For a girl like Muriel
to have even the ſaintest suspicion hanging
over her is simply hateful.”
Meanwhile the mysterious Mr. Henshaw
seemed in no hurry to make known his
theory, if he had one. Yet he still remained
in Branchester, writing all the morning and
going out in the afternoon, usually with a


156 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
handful of letters for post. He always nodded
affably to Gifford when they met, but beyond
a casual remark on the weather or the events
of the day, showed no disposition to chat.
But now while Gifford was in this unsatis-
factory state of mind, persevering yet baffled
in what he had undertaken to do, a very
singular thing came to pass. He strolled
out one afternoon, aimlessly, wondering
whether the negative result of his efforts
justified his remaining in the place, and yet
loath to leave it, held there as he was by
the attraction of Edith Morriston. He felt
he could be making but - little way in her
favour seeing how he was failing in what he
had undertaken to do for her, and as he
walked he discussed with himself whether it
would not be possible to hit on some more
active plan of becoming acquainted with
Henshaw's knowledge and intentions. It was
obviously a delicate business, and after all,
he thought, now that the man's undesirable
presence had practically ceased to be an
annoyance to the Morristons there scarcely
seemed any need to bother about him. On
the other hand, however, there was a certain
*


WHAT GIFFORD SAW I57
strong curiosity on his own part to know
Henshaw's design and what kept him in the
town.
Gifford's walk took him over well remem-
bered ground. He was strolling along a path
which led through the Wynford property,
over a rustic bridge across a stream he had
often fished when a boy, and so on into a
wood which formed one of the home coverts.
Making his way through this familiar haunt
of by-gone days he came to one of the long
rides which bisected the wood for some quarter
of a mile. He turned into this and was just
looking out for a comfortable trunk where
he might sit and Smoke, when he caught sight
of two figures in the distance ahead walking
slowly just on the fringe of the ride. A man
and a woman ; their backs were towards
him, but his blood gave a leap at the sight
as their identity flashed upon him. It was,
in its unexpectedness, an almost appalling
sight to him, as he realised that the two
were none other than Henshaw and Edith
Morriston.


CHAPTER XIV
GIFFORD’S PERPLEXITY
EXT moment Gifford had instinctively
sprung back into the covert of the
trees, almost dazed by what he had seen.
Henshaw and Edith Morriston | Could it
be possible 2 His eyes must have deceived
him. About the girl there could be no doubt.
Her tall, graceful figure was unmistakable.
But the man. Surely he had been mistaken
there ; it must have been her brother, or
perhaps a friend who had been lunching with
them. Had Gifford, his mind obsessed by
Henshaw, jumped to a false conclusion ? He
stooped, and creeping warily beyond the
fringe of trees looked after the pair.
They were now some thirty yards away.
There could be no doubt that the lady was
Edith Morriston ; and the man 2 Incredible
as it might seem, he was surely Gervase Hen-
shaw. Gifford had seen him some two hours
earlier, and now recognized his grey suit and
dark felt hat. He stayed, crouched down,
158


*
GIFFORD’S PERPLEXITY 159
looking after the amazing pair, seeking a sign
that the man was not Henshaw. After all,
it was, he told himself, more likely that he had
made a mistake than that Miss Morriston
could be strolling in confidential talk (for
such seemed the case) with that fellow. It
was too astounding for belief.
They had stopped now, at the end of the ride;
the man talking earnestly, it seemed; Miss Mor-
riston standing with headbent down and scor-
ing the grass with her walking-stick as though
in doubt or consideration. Would they turn
and put theman's identity beyonduncertainty?
Gifford had not long to wait. Miss Morriston
seemed to draw off and began to walkbackdown
the ride; her companion turned and promptly
put himself by her side. There was no doubt
now as to who he was. Gervase Henshaw.
As one glance, now that the face was re-s
vealed, proved that, Gifford drew back quickly
and hurried deeper into the thick wood fearful
lest his footsteps should be heard. When he
had gone a safe distance an intense curiosity
made him halt and turn. From his place of
hiding he could just see the light of the ride
along which the couple would pass. He hated


160 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
the idea of spying upon Edith Morriston ;
after all, if she chose to walk and talk with
this man it was no business of his ; but a
Supreme distrust of Henshaw, unreasonable
enough, perhaps, but none the less keen,
made him suspicious that the man might be
playing some cowardly game, might have
drawn the girl to him by unfair means.
Otherwise it was surely inconceivable that
she should have consented—condescended in-
deed—to meet him in that clandestine manner.
As Gifford stayed, hesitating between a
breach of good form and a legitimate desire
to learn whether the girl was being subjected
to unfair treatment, the sound of Henshaw's
rather penetrating voice came into earshot,
and a few seconds later they passed across
the line of Gifford's sight.
He could catch but a glimpse of them
through the intervening trees as they went
by slowly, but it was enough to tell him that
Henshaw was talking earnestly, arguing, it
seemed, and on Edith Morriston’s clear-cut
* face was a look of trouble which was not
good to see. It made Gifford flush with
anger to think that this lovely high-bred
-


GIFFORD’s PERPLEXITY 161
girl was being worried, probably being made
love to, by a man of that objectionable type ;
for that she could be in that situation without
, coercion was not to be believed. The reason
for Henshaw's prolonged and rather puzzling
stay in the place was now accounted for.
Moreover, to Gifford's bitter reflection the
whole business seemed clear enough. Hen-
shaw had been caught and fascinated by
Edith Morriston's beauty, and being, as was
obvious, a man of energy and determination,
was now in some subtle way making use of
the tragedy as a means of forcing his unwel-
come attentions on her. How otherwise
could this astounding familiarity be arrived
at P Sick with disgust and indignation, Gif-
ford turned away and retraced his steps
through the wood, dismissing, as likely to
lead to a false position, his first impulse to
appear on the scene and stop, at any rate
for that day, Henshaw's designs. He felt
that to act precipitately might do less good
than harm. He was, after all, on private
ground there, and had no right to intrude
upon what in all likehood Miss Morriston
wished to be a secluded interview. What
- L


162 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
course he would take in the future was another
matter, and one which demanded instant
and serious consideration. The right line to
adopt was indeed a perplexing problem. ”
Gifford recalled Morriston's story of having
met Henshaw hanging about more or less
mysteriously in the plantation, and the
annoyance he had expressed at the encounter.
The reason was plain enough now. Of course
the man was waiting either to waylay Edith
Morriston or to meet her by appointment.
It was not a pleasant reflection; since the
fact showed that these clandestine meetings
had probably been going on for some days
past. That Henshaw's object was more or
less disreputable could not be doubted, and
to Gifford the amazing and troubling part
of it was that Edith Morriston, the very last
woman he would have suspected of consenting
to such a course, who had professed an abso-
lute dislike and repugnance to Henshaw, and
fear of his annoying presence, should be
meeting him thus willingly. Had he not
seen them with his own eyes he would have
scoffed at the idea as something inconceivable.
Now what was he to do 2 For it was clear


GIFFORD'S PERPLEXITY 163
*
that, justified or not as he might be thought
in interfering in matters which did not con-
cern him, something must be done. The
one obvious course which it seemed he ought
to take was to give Richard Morriston a hint
of what was on foot, if not a stronger and
more explicit statement. For that Morriston
could be privy to the correspondence between
his sister and Henshaw was quite unlikely.
If anything underhand was going on, if Hen-
shaw was holding some threat over the girl
or pursuing her with unwelcome attentions
her brother, as her natural guardian, should
be warned. That seemed to Gifford his mani-
fest duty. And yet he shrank from anything
which might seem treachery towards the girl.
For, if she needed her brother's help and pro-
tection against the man, it would be an easy
matter for her to complain of his persecution.
Why, he wondered, had she not done so 2 It
was all very mysterious. He tried to imagine
how the position had come about. On Hen-
shaw's side it was plain enough. Miss Morris-
ton was not only a strikingly handsome girl,
but she was an heiress, possessing, according
to Kelson, a considerable fortune in her own


164 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
right. There, clearly, was Henshaw's mo-
tive ; an incentive to an unscrupulous man
to use every art, fair and unfair, to force him-
self into her favour. But how had he suc-
ceeded so quickly as to make this rather
haughty, reserved girl consent to meet in
secret the man whom she professed to dislike
and avoid 2 That this unpleasantly sharp,
pushing product of the less dignified side of
the law could have any personal attraction
for one of Edith Morriston's taste and dis-
crimination was impossible. And yet, there
the challenging fact remained that confiden-
tial relations had been established between the
disparate pair. Was it possible that this man
could have found out something connecting
Edith Morriston with his brother's death 2
The feasibility of the idea came as a shock
to Gifford. He stopped dead in his walk
as the notion took form in his brain. The
possibilities of this most mysterious case
were too complicated to be grasped at once.
And so with his mind in a whirl of vague
conjecture and apprehension he reached his
hotel... And there a new development in the
mystery awaited him.


CHAPTER xv
ANOTHER DISCOVERY
ELSON was in their sitting-room reading
the Field. He started up as Gifford
entered, and flung away the paper. “My
dear Hugh, I’ve been waiting for you,” he
exclaimed.
“What's the matter P Anything wrong 2 ”
Gifford asked with a certain apprehensive
curiosity, as he noticed signs of suppressed
excitement in his friend's face.
“I don't know whether it's all wrong or
whether it is all right,” Kelson replied.
“Anyhow it has relieved my mind a good
deal.” z -
Controlling his own tendency to excitement,
Gifford put aside his hat and stick and sat
down. “Let’s hear it,” he said quietly.
“Well, another unaccountable thing has,
it appears, happened at Wynford Place. A
pendant, or whatever you call it, to that
165


166 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
which has been troubling Muriel. What do
you think? As I was riding along the Lox-
ford road this afternoon I met Dick Morriston,
and he told me that another discovery of
blood-stains has been made at Wynford.
On a girl's ball-dress too. And on whose do
you suppose it is 2 ” -
“Not Miss Morriston's 2 ” Gifford sug-
gested breathlessly.
Kelson nodded, with a slight look of sur-
prise at the correctness of the guess. “Yes.
Isn't it queer P Poor old Dick is in rather
a way about it, and I must say the whole busi-
ness is decidedly mysterious.”
Gifford was thinking keenly. “How did
it come out 2 Who found the marks P.” he
asked.
“Well,” Kelson answered, “it appears
that Edith Morriston's maid found them some
days ago, in fact the day after a similar dis-
covery had been made on Muriel's gown.
She had brought the dress which her mistress
had worn at the Hunt Ball out of the ward-
robe where it hung, in order to fold it away.
She appears to have spread it on the bed
where the sun shone on it and in the strong


I68 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
till I saw you before riding over to tell her
of it, and relieve her mind.”
“Yes,” Gifford responded mechanically,
“of course it removes any serious suspicion
from Miss Tredworth.”
“And,” said Kelson eagerly, “it divides
the odium, if there is any. In fact, to my
mind, it reduces the whole suspicion to an
absurdity. For that both girls could have
been concerned in Henshaw's death is abso-
lutely incredible.”
“Yes,” Gifford agreed thoughtfully;
“ they could not both have had a hand in it.”
– “Or either, for that matter,” Kelson re-
turned with a laugh. “Don’t you admit that
the idea is in the highest degree ridiculous 2 ”
he added more sharply as Gifford remained
silent.
“It is—inconceivable,” he admitted ab-
stractedly.
Kelson, who had taken up his hat and crop
and was turning to the door, wheeled round
quickly. “My dear Hugh,” he exclaimed
impatiently, “what is the matter with you ?
What monstrous idea have you got in your
head 2 You owe it to me, and I really must


ANOTHER DISCOVERY I69
ask you, to speak out plainly. It seems
almost an insult to Muriel to ask the ques-
tion, but do you still persist in the notion that
she had, even in the most innocent way, any-
thing to do with Henshaw's death? Because
I have her positive assurance that she knows
nothing of it, beyond what is common
knowledge.”
“I too am quite certain of that now,”
Gifford answered.
“Why do you say now 2 ” Kelson de-
manded sourly. “Surely you never seriously
entertained such an abominable idea.”
“You must admit, my dear Harry,” Gifford
replied calmly, “that with a man stabbed to
death in practically the next room, the blood-
stains on Miss Tredworth's dress were bound
to give rise to conjecture. One would sus-
pect an archbishop in a similar position. But
that is all over now. I am as convinced as
you can be that Miss Tredworth knew nothing
of the business.”
“On your honour that is your opinion ?”
“On my honour.”
“This new discovery has changed your
opinion ?”


170 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“It has at least shown me how dangerous
it may be to jump to conclusions.”
Kelson drew in a breath. “Yes, indeed.
Poor Muriel has suffered from the suspicion
as well as from the horrible shock of the dis-
covery. Still, this new development, though
it acquits her, does nothing towards solving
the mystery. I wonder whether Edith Mor-
riston has any idea as to how her dress got
marked.”
“I wonder,” Gifford responded abstractedly.
“Well,” said Kelson, “I’m off to carry
the good news to Muriel. Don't wait dinner
for me if I’m not back by seven-thirty.”
It was rather a relief to Gifford to be left
alone that he might review the situation
without interruption. His first thought had
been, could this last discovery be account-
able for what he had seen that afternoon 2
Doubtless, after the information reached the
police it would not be long in being conveyed
to Henshaw. And he was now making use
of it to put the screw on, using the hold he
had gained over Edith Morriston to bend
her to his will. What was that 2 Marriage 2
To Gifford the thought was monstrous; yet


ANOTHER DISCOVERY 171
if it should be that Henshaw had information
which put the girl in his power, what could
she do 2 That she had consented to meet
him secretly and listen to him went to show
that she felt her position to be weak. If so
she might need help, an adviser, a man to
stand between her and her persecutor.
Thinking out the situation strenuously Gif-
ford determined to seek a private inter-
view with Edith Morriston and offer him-
self as her protector. At the worst she
could but snub him, and the chances were,
he thought, greatly in favour of her accepting
his offer of help. For from her character he
judged she was not a girl to make a stronger
appeal to him than the casual invoking of his
assistance which had already taken place.
He had a very cogent reason for believing
that he could be of assistance, although there
were certain elements in the mystery which
might, in his ignorance of them, upset his
calculations.
Anyhow in consideration of the trust Edith
Morriston had shown in him he would seek an
interview with her and chance what it might
bring forth. -
a


CHAPTER XVI
AN Explanation
N pursuance of this plan Gifford proposed
to his friend that they should call at
Wynford Place on the next day. Kelson
had returned from the Tredworths in high
spirits, the news he carried there having
lifted a weight off his fiancée's mind and
indeed restored the happiness of the whole
family. There was no cloud over the engage-
ment now, and they could all look forward
to the marriage without a qualm.
If Kelson might, in ordinary circumstances,
have wondered at the motive for his friend’s
proposal, which was but thinly disguised,
he was in too happy a state of preoccupation
to trouble his head about it.
“I’m your man,” he responded promptly.
“It so happens that Muriel is lunching at
Wynford to-morrow, so it will suit me well
enough. I shouldn't be surprised if we get
172 * .


AN EXPLANATION I73
*
a note in the morning asking us to lunch
there too.”
The morning, however, brought no note of
invitation; a failure which rather surprised
Kelson, although Gifford thought he could
account for it.
Nevertheless he determined to go and do
his best to get a private talk with Edith
Morriston, however disinclined she might be
to grant it. The two men went up to Wyn-
ford early in the afternoon, but it was a
long time before Gifford got the opportunity
he sought. Edith Morriston seemed as friendly
and gracious as ever, but whether by accident
or design she gave no chance for Gifford to
get in a private word. With the knowledge
of what he had seen on the previous afternoon
and of the change in her attitude he was too
shrewd to show any anxiety for a confidential
talk. He watched her closely when he could
do so unobserved, but her face gave no sign
of trouble or embarrassment. He wondered
if there could after all be anything in his idea
of persecution, and the more curious he
became the more determined he grew to
find out. But somehow Miss Morriston con-
i


174 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
trived that they should never be alone
together; when Kelson and Muriel Tredworth
strolled off lover-like, Miss Morriston kept
her brother with her to make a third.
The three went round to the stables and
inspected the hunters, then through the
shrubbery to admire a wonderful bed of
Snowdrops. As they stood there looking
over the undulating park, and Gifford, curbing
his impatience, was talking of certain changes
which had taken place since his early days
there, the butler was seen hurrying towards
them.
“Callers, I suppose,” Morriston observed
with a half-yawn. “What is it, Stent 2 ”
“Could I speak to you, sir?” the man
said, stopping short a little distance away.
Morriston went forward to him, and after
they had spoken together he turned round,
and with an “Excuse me for a few minutes,”
went off towards the hºotise with the butler.
So at last the opportunity had come.
Gifford glanced at his companion and noticed
that her face had gone a shade paler than
before the interruption.
“I wonder what can be the matter,” she


176 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
- A
shrubbery path. The girl turned to him for
an instant, her expression softened in a look
of gratitude. “It is very kind of you, Mr.
Gifford, to take all this trouble for us. And
I am sure it is not your fault that the result
is not what you might wish. It was rather
absurd of me to set you the task. But I am
none the less grateful. Please think that,
and do not bother about it any more.”
“But if the man is likely to annoy you,”
he urged. “Have you longer any reason to
fear him 2 ”
She turned swiftly. “Fear him 2 What
do you mean?”
“We thought he might be unscrupulous
and might make himself objectionablé.”
She shrugged. “I dare say it is pos-
ssible.”
“I must confess,” he pursued, “I can't
quite make the fellow out. Nor his motive
for remaining in the place. Your brother
told me he came across him hanging about in
one of your plantations.”
He thought the blood left her face for an
instant, but otherwise she showed no sign of
discomposure.
W


AN EXPLANATION 177
“How did he account for his being there 2 ”
she asked calmly. *
“Unsatisfactorily enough. I forget his
actual excuse.”
“Was that all 2 ” she demanded coldly.
“I believe so. But it is hardly desirable, as
your brother said, to have the man prowling
about the property.”
For a moment she was silent. “No,” she
said as though by an afterthought.
Her manner troubled him. “I hope he
is not attempting to annoy you,” he said
searchingly.
She looked surprised and, he thought, a
little resentful at his question. “Me 2 ”
she returned coldly. “By hanging about in
the plantation ?”
“If he goes no farther than that—”
“Why should he 7” she demanded in
the same rather chilling tone.
“I don't know,” Gifford replied, set back
by her manner. “Except that I have no
high opinion of the fellow. It occurred to
me he might possibly attempt to persecute
you.”
She glanced round at him curiously with


178 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
a little disdainful smile. “What makes you
think he would do that ?” she returned.
Her attitude was to him not convincing.
He felt there was a certain reservation
beneath the rather cutting tone. “I am
glad to know there is no question of that,”
he replied with quiet earnestness. “I hope
if anything of the kind should occur and
you should need a friend you will not over-
look me.”
“You are very kind,” she responded, but
without turning towards him. He thought,
however, that her low tone had softened,
and it gave him hope.
“I should scarcely take upon myself to
suggest this,” he said, “but I am emboldened
by two facts. One that you have already
asked me to be your ally, your friend, in
this business, the other that there is something
about Henshaw and his actions which I do
not understand. I hope you will forgive
my boldness.”
His companion had glanced round now,
keenly, as though to probe for the meaning
which might lie beneath his words. He
speculated whether she might be wondering


AN EXPLANATION I8I
explanation. The only wonder is that no one
thought of it before.” -
“Muriel was sitting just at that end of
the sofa when I proposed to her,” Kelson said
in a low voice to Gifford.
“I am delighted the matter is so com-
pletely accounted for,” his friend returned.
“What fools we were ever to have taken it so
tragically.” -
But his expression changed as he glanced
at Edith Morriston ; she had denied that she
had been in the room.
“I have sent down to the police to tell
them of the discovery,” Morriston was saying.
“The fact is that since the tragedy the ser-
vants appear to have rather shunned this –
part of the house, or at any rate to have
devoted as little time to it as possible. Other-
wise this would have come to light sooner.
Anyhow it is a source of congratulation to Miss
Tredworth and you, Edith. Of course you
must have been in here.”
“I remember sitting just there; ugh ”
Miss Tredworth said with a shudder.
“I can swear to that,” Kelson corro-
borated with a knowing smile.


CHAPTER XVII
WHAT A GIRL SAW
ITH Morriston's departure a rather
uncomfortable silence fell upon the
party left in the room. Every one seemed
to feel that there was something in the air,
the shadow of a possibly serious development
in the case. Even Kelson, who was otherwise
inclined to be jubilant over the freeing of his
fiancée from suspicion, seemed to feel it was
no time or place just then for gaiety, and
his expression grew as grave as that of the
rest.
“I wonder what these fellows have come
to say,” he observed as he paced the room.
“Let’s hope to announce that at last
they are going to leave you in peace, Edith,”
Miss Tredworth said.
Edith Morriston did not alter her position
as she stood looking out of the window.
“Thank you for your kind wish, Muriel,”
184


WHAT A GIRL SAW 185
she responded in a cold voice; “but I'm
afraid that is too much to hope for just
yet.”
“Yet one doesn’t see what else it can
be,” Kelson observed reflectively. “They
can hardly have found out exactly how
the man came by his death ; much more
likely to have abandoned their latest theory,
eh, Hugh 2 ”
Gifford was looking, held by the grip of
his imagination, at the tall figure by the
window; wondering what was passing behind
that veil of impassiveness. “I don't see
what they can have found out away from
this house,” he said, rousing himself by an
effort to answer; “and they don't seem to
have been here lately.”
“Well, we shall see,” Kelson said casually.
“Ah, here comes Dick back again.”
Morriston hurried in with a serious face.
In answer to Kelson's, “Well, Dick P’’ he
said. -
“It appears a rather extraordinary piece
of evidence has just come to light; one which,
iſ true, completely solves the mystery of
the locked door. I asked Freeman if ther
---


I86 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
was any objection to you fellows coming to
the library and hearing the story; he is
quite agreeable. So will you come 2 You
too, Edith, and Miss Tredworth ; there is
nothing at all horrible in it so far.”
For the first time Edith Morriston turned
from the window. “Is it necessary, Dick 2 ”
she protested quietly. “I’d just as soon hear
it all afterwards from you. These police
visitations are rather getting on my nerves.”
“Very well, dear; you shall hear all
about it later on,” her brother responded,
and led the way down to the library. Gifford
was the last to leave the room, and his
glance back showed him that Edith Morriston
had turned again to the window and resumed
her former attitude.
In the library were the chief constable,
Gervase Henshaw and a local detective.
“Now, Major Freeman,” Morriston said
as he closed the door, “we shall be glad to
hear this new piece of evidence.”
Major Freeman bowed. “Shortly, it comes
to this,” he began. “A young woman named
Martha Haynes, belonging to Branchester,
called at my office this morning and made


I88 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
drifted across the moon and threw the
tower into shadow.
“The girl continued, however, to keep her
eyes fixed on the spot where she had seen the
dark object descending, with the result that in
a few seconds she saw it reach and pass over
one side of the window of the lower room
which was sufficiently lighted up to silhouette
anything placed before it. She saw the
object move slowly over the window and
disappear in the darkness beneath it. When,
a few seconds later, the moon came out
again nothing more was to be seen.
“The girl stayed for some time watching
the tower, but without result. She is a
more or less ignorant, unsophisticated coun-
try-woman, and what she had seen she was
quite unable to account for. Naturally she
hardly connected it with any sort of tragical
occurrence. The house with its lights and
music seemed given over to gaiety; that
any one should just then have met his death
in that upper room never entered her imagin-
ation. A vague idea that a thief might have
got into the house and she had seen him
escape by the tower window did indeed, as


190 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
of the suicide theory. The question now is
who was the person who was seen descending
from the window 2 ”
“Could this girl tell whether it was a man
or a woman 2 ” The question came from
Henshaw, who had hitherto kept silent.
“She thinks it was a man,” Major Freeman
answered, “but could not swear to it. The
fact of the object being close to the wall
made it almost impossible in the imperfect
light to distinguish plainly. But I think we
may take it that it was a man. The feat
could be hardly one a woman would under-
take.”
“No,” Gifford agreed. “And there would
seem little chance of identifying the per-
son.”
“None at all so far as the girl Haynes is
concerned,” Major Freeman replied. “But
we have something to go upon ; a starting
point for a new line of inquiry. The person
seen escaping must have lowered himself
by a rope from that top window and a con-
siderable length would be required. I have
taken the liberty, Mr. Morriston, of setting
a party of my men to search the grounds


º
WHAT A GIRL SAW I91
for the rope; they will begin by dragging
the little lake.”
“By all means,” Morriston assented.
“Detective Sprules,” the chief proceeded,
“would like to make another examination
of the ironwork of the window. May he
go up now 2 ”
“Certainly,” Morriston answered, and the
detective left the room.
Gifford spoke. “The girl saw nothing
of the escaping person after he reached the
ground 2 ”
“Nothing, she says,” Major Freeman an-
swered. “But the base of the tower was in
deep shadow, which would prevent that.”
“A pity her curiosity was not a little more
practical,” Henshaw observed.
“Yes.” Gifford turned to him. “You
are proved correct, Mr. Henshaw, in your
repudiation of the suicide idea. Perhaps,
in view of this latest development, you may
have knowledge to go upon of some one
from whom your brother might have appre-
hended danger ?”
Henshaw's set face gave indication of
nothing but a studied reserve. “No one


192 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
certainly,” he answered coolly, “from whom
he might apprehend danger to his life.”
“There must have been a motive for the
actſ” Kelson observed. “ Unless it was a
sudden quarrel.”
“There appears,” Major Freeman put in,
“to be no evidence whatever of anything
leading up to that.”
“No ; the cause is so far quite mysterious,”
Henshaw said.
It seemed to Gifford that there was some-
thing of undisclosed knowledge behind his
words, and he fell to wondering how far the
motive was mysterious to him.
Morriston proceeded to acquaint Major
Freeman with the discovered cause of the
marks on the ladies' dresses, and they all
went off to the lower room where the position
of the stains was pointed out. Edith Morris-
ton was no longer there.
“Miss Tredworth sat at this end of the
Sofa,” Morriston explained, “and so the
marks on her dress are clearly accounted for.”
“And Miss Morriston 2 ” Henshaw put
the question in a tone which had in it, Gifford
thought, a touch of scepticism.


WHAT A GIRL SAW 193
“Oh, my sister must have been in here
too,” Morriston replied. “Or how could
her dress have been stained 2 Unless, indeed,
she brushed against Miss Tredworth's or some-
one else’s. That's clear.”
There seemed no alacrity in Henshaw to
accept the conclusion and he did not re-
spond.
“I am glad this part of the mystery is so
satisfactorily settled,” the chief constable
remarked. “Now we have the issue nar-
rowed. Well, Sprules 2 ”
The detective had appeared at the door.
“I have examined the ironwork of the
window, sir,” he said, “ and have found
under the magnifying-glass traces of the
fraying of a rope as though caused by friction
against the iron staple.”
“Sufficient signs to bear out the young
woman's statement 2 ”
“Quite, sir. There is upon close examin-
ation distinct evidence of a rope having been
worked against the hinge of the window.”
“Very good, Sprules. We may consider
that point settled,” Major Freeman said.
Having finally satisfied themselves as to
N


194 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
the cause of the stains on the floor and sofa,
the chief constable and his subordinate pro-
posed to go to the lake and see whether
the men who were dragging it had had any
success. Morriston and Henshaw with Kel-
son and Gifford accompanied them. As they
came in sight of the boat the detective ex-
claimed, “They have found it !” and the
men were seen hauling up a rope out of the
Water.
“Sooner than I expected,” Major Freeman
observed as they hurried towards the nearest
point to the boat. -
The rope when landed proved to be of
considerable length, sufficient when doubled,
they calculated, to reach from the topmost
window to within five or six feet of the
ground. -
“The escaping person,” Henshaw said,
“must have slid down the doubled rope which
had been passed through the staple of the
window, and then when the ground was
reached have pulled it away, coiled it up,
carried it to the lake, and thrown it in.
Obviously that was the procedure and it
accounts completely for the locked door.”


WHAT A GIRL SAW 193
“Oh, my sister must have been in here
too,” Morriston replied. “Or how could
her dress have been stained 2 Unless, indeed,
she brushed against Miss Tredworth's or some-
one else’s. That's clear.”
There seemed no alacrity in Henshaw to
accept the conclusion and he did not re-
spond.
“I am glad this part of the mystery is so
satisfactorily settled,” the chief constable
remarked. “Now we have the issue nar-
rowed. Well, Sprules 2 ”
The detective had appeared at the door.
“I have examined the ironwork of the
window, sir,” he said, “ and have found
under the magnifying-glass traces of the
fraying of a rope as though caused by friction
against the iron staple.”
“Sufficient signs to bear out the young
woman’s statement 2 ”
“Quite, sir. There is upon close examin-
ation distinct evidence of a rope having been
worked against the hinge of the window.”
“Very good, Sprules. We may consider
that point settled,” Major Freeman said.
Having finally satisfied themselves as to
N


194 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
the cause of the stains on the floor and sofa,
the chief constable and his subordinate pro-
posed to go to the lake and see whether
the men who were dragging it had had any
success. Morriston and Henshaw with Kel-
son and Gifford accompanied them. As they
came in sight of the boat the detective ex-
claimed, “They have found it !” and the
men were seen hauling up a rope out of the
Water.
“Sooner than I expected,” Major Freeman
observed as they hurried towards the nearest
point to the boat. -
The rope when landed proved to be of
considerable length, sufficient when doubled,
they calculated, to reach from the topmost
window to within five or six feet of the
ground. -
“The escaping person,” Henshaw said,
“must have slid down the doubled rope which
had been passed through the staple of the
window, and then when the ground was
reached have pulled it away, coiled it up,
carried it to the lake, and thrown it in.
Obviously that was the procedure and it
accounts completely for the locked door.”


WHAT A GIRL SAW I95
The chief constable and the detective
agreed.
“A man would want some nerve to come
down from that height,” the latter remarked.
“Any man, or woman either for that
matter,” Henshaw returned dogmatically,
“would not hesitate to take the risk as an
alternative to being trapped up there with
his victim.” -
“You are not suggesting it might have
been a woman who was seen sliding down the
rope 2 ” Gifford asked pointedly.
Henshaw shrugged. “I suggest nothing
as to the person's identity,” he replied in a
sharply guarded tone. “That is now what
remains to be discovered.”


*
CHAPTER XVIII
THE LOST BROOCH
HE police authorities with Henshaw
and Morriston went off with the rope
to experiment in the room of the tragedy.
“I don't suppose we are wanted,” Kelson
said quietly to Gifford; “let’s go for a turn
round the garden. I wonder where Muriel
has got to.”
They found Miss Tredworth on the lawn.
“I am waiting for Edith,” she said.
“We'll stroll on and Gifford can bring
Miss Morriston after us,” Kelson suggested,
and the lovers moved away, leaving Gifford,
much to his satisfaction, waiting for Edith
Morriston.
In a few minutes she made her appearance.
Gifford mentioned the arrangement and they
strolled off by the path the others had taken.
It seemed to Gifford that his companion's
196


THE LOST BROOCH I97
manner was rather abnormal ; unlike her
usual cold reserve there were signs of a certain
suppressed excitement.
“I hope,” she said, “that Major Freeman
and his people are satisfied with our dis-
covery that the marks on Muriel's dress and
mine came there by accident.”
“Evidently quite convinced,” Gifford an-
swered. *
“That's well,” she responded with a rather
forced laugh. “It was rather too bad to
suspect us, on that evidence, of knowing
anything about the affair.”
“I don’t suppose for a moment they did,”
Gifford assured her.
“I don't know,” the girl returned. “Any--
how it was rather an embarrassing, not to
say painful, position for us to be in. But
that is at an end now.”
Nevertheless Gifford could tell that she
was not so thoroughly relieved as her words
implied.
“Completely,” he declared. “You have
heard of the new piece of evidence 2 " he
added casually. -
For a moment she stopped with a start,


198 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
instantly recovering herself. “No ; what is
that ?” in a tone almost of unconcern.
Gifford told her of the statement made
by the country girl and its corroboration in
the finding of the rope. As he continued
he felt sure that the story was gripping his
companion more and more closely. At last
she stopped dead and turned to him with
eyes which had in them intense mystification
as well as fear.
“Mr. Gifford, do you believe that story 2 ”
“I see no reason for disbelieving it,” he
answered quietly. “It is practically the
only conceivable solution of the mystery
of the locked door.” -
“Surely—” she stopped, checking the
vehement objection that rose to her lips.
“This girl,” she went on as though searching
for a plausible argument, “is it not likely that
she was mistaken 2 We know what these
country people are. And she could not have
seen very clearly.”
“But,” Gifford argued gently, “her state-
ment is confirmed by the finding of the
rope.” -
Edith Morriston was thinking strenuously,


THE LOST BROOCH I99
>
desperately, he could see that. The words
she spoke were but mechanical, the mere
froth of a seething brain. Yet her splendid
self-command—and he recognized it with
admiration—never deserted her, however su-
preme the struggle may have been to retain
it. *
A seat was by them ; she went across the
path to it and sat down. Gifford saw that
she was deadly pale.
“I fear this wretched business is upsettin
you, Miss Morriston,” he said gently. “Let
me run to the house and fetch something to
revive you.”
She made a gesture to stay him, and by
an effort seemed to shake off the threaten-
ing collapse. “No, no,” she said ; “please
don't. It is very stupid of me, but these
repeated shocks are rather trying. You see
one has never had any experience of the sort
before.”
“It was more than stupid of me to blunder
into the story,” Gifford said self-reproach-
fully. “But it never occurred to me—”
“No, no ; of course not,” she responded.
“And, after all, I am bound to hear all


200 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
about it sooner or later. Sit down and tell
me your opinion of the affair. Supposing
the girl was not mistaken who do you think
the person seen escaping from the window
could have been 2 ”
“That is difficult to say.”
“A thief, no doubt.”
“That is a natural conclusion.”
“Have the police any idea 2 ”
“Not that I know of. I should say decid-
edly no definite idea.”
“Or Mr. Henshaw P ''
“Whatever Mr. Henshaw's ideas may be
he keeps them to himself.”
Miss Morriston checked the remark she
had seemed about to make, and for a few
minutes there was an awkward silence. Gif-
ford broke it.
“I am so sorry that I have been unable
to get any hint of his intentions. Believe
me, it has not been for want of trying. But
the man, for reasons best known to himself,
seems determined to remain inscrutable.”
The girl was staring in front of her. “Yes,”
she responded, with a catch of her breath ;
“ that is evident. But it does not much


202 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
words, and there seemed less trouble in her
face than in his. For at his heart there was
a sickening fear and suspicion of what the
words portended.
“I can't promise that,” he objected.
“But I ask you ; it is my wish,” she
returned with a touch of command.
“For my sake, or yours ?” he rejoined.
“For both. Give me your promise. You
must if we are to remain friends.”
Her look and the fascination in her voice
seemed to pull the very heart out of him.
“You are asking a cruelly hard thing of
me,” he replied, with a tremor in his voice.
“I don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t understand,” she inter-
rupted quickly. “It is enough to know that
you have taken a girl's foolish commission
too seriously, so seriously as to run the
risk of making things even worse than they
threatened to be. Now I ask you to leave
well alone.”
“If it is well,” he said doubtfully.
“Of course. Why should it not be 2 ”
she rejoined, in a not very convincing tone.
“Now I shall rely on you—and I am sure


THE LOST BROOCH 203
it will not be in vain—to respect my wishes.
Things seem to be in a horrible muddle,”
she added with a rather dreary laugh, “but .
let's hope they will right themselves before
long.”
She rose, compelling him to rise too.
Something in the tone and manner of her
last speech made him quite unwilling to end
their conference, and desperately anxious to
speak out everything that was in his mind and
try to bring matters to a crisis.
“Don’t go for a moment,” he said as she
began to move away towards the house. “I
have something to say to you.”
She turned quickly and faced him with a
suggestion of displeasure in her eyes. “What
is it 2 ” she said with a touch of impatience.
“Only this,” he answered quietly. “Have
you lost a brooch, Miss Morriston 2 ”
At the question the blood left her cheeks
as it had done a little while before ; then
surged back till her face was suffused.
“A brooch P Yes; I have missed one.
Have you found it 2 ” The words were
spoken with a calmness which failed to hide
the eagerness behind them.


204 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“I think so,” he answered, taking out his
letter-case. “A pearl, set in diamonds
mounted on a safety-pin P”
He opened the case and showed it pinned
into the soft lining.
“Yes ; that is mine,” she said ; and for
a moment or two by a strange attraction each
looked into the other's eyes.
Gifford bent his head over the case as
he unfastened the brooch and took it
out.
“Where—where did you find it 2,” Some-
thing in the girl's voice made him glad that he
was not looking at her.
“In the garden,” he said.
“In the garden 2 ” she repeated. He was
looking up now and saw the intense relief
in her face. “To-day ?”
“No ; last time I was up here. I ought
to have taken it to the house at once but—
but it was a temptation to me to keep it
till I could give it back to you like this.
Do forgive me.”
It was plain"she divined what he meant,
but her cold manner came to the aid of her
embarrassment.


THE LOST BROOCH 205
“I am only too glad to have it again. I
am so glad you found it.”
“So am I,” he responded with a touch of
fervour. “I wish I could relieve your mind
of everything else as easily.”
“I am sure you do,” she said wistfully, and
impulsively half put out her hand.
He caught it as she was in the act of check-
ing the action and drawing it back. “You
may be sure—quite sure, of my devotion,”
he said, and raised her hand to his lips.
An exclamation and a sudden start as
the hand was quickly withdrawn made him
look up. Edith Morriston's eyes were fixed
with something like fear on an object behind
him. An intuition told him what it was
before he looked round to see Henshaw,
with his characteristic, rather stealthy walk,
coming towards them.
Gifford set his teeth hard as the two faced
round and awaited Henshaw's approach.
“This man shall not annoy you,” he said
in an undertone.
“Don’t quarrel with him, for heaven's
sake,” she entreated in the same tone,
under her breath, as the disturbing presence


CHAPTER XIX
IN THE CHURCHYARD
OTHING more of importance happened
that day at Wynford, and Gifford
had no further opportunity of private talk
with Edith Morriston. But it was evident
to him, and the knowledge gave him intense
concern, that the girl went in fear of Gervase
Henshaw. That he was intimidating her,
and using his brother's death for that purpose,
was beyond doubt, and the very fact that
Edith Morriston was a woman of uncommon
courage and self-control, one who in ordinary
circumstances would be the last to give way
to fear or submit to bullying, showed how
serious the matter had become.
Gifford on his part determined that this
intolerable state of things must come to an
end, and that in spite of the command laid
upon him by the girl, he would now pit
himself against her persecutor. He had given
- 207


IN THE CHURCHYARD 209
sound of his footsteps the man quickly
turned, and, as for a moment the fitful moon-
light caught his face, Gifford was sure he
recognized Gervase Henshaw. But he took
no notice and kept on his way to the stile,
which he orossed and gained the road. As
he did so he glanced back. A horse and trap
was waiting there with Henshaw in it. He
was now bending down, probably with the
object of concealing his identity, and had
moved on a few paces farther down the road.
Why was he waiting there 2 Gifford asked
himself the obvious question with a decidedly
uneasy feeling. Henshaw the Londoner, on
a Sunday evening, waiting with a horse and
trap in an unfrequented lane, a road which
ran nowhere but to a farm. What did it
mean P
Naturally Gifford's suspicions connected
Edith Morriston with the circumstance, and
yet he told himself the idea was monstrously
improbable. It was more likely that Hen-
shaw was bound upon some search with the
police. His movements were and had been
for some time mysterious enough.
Gifford's impulse as he turned into the
O


2ro THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
high road was to stay there in concealment
and watch for the upshot of Henshaw's
presence. The suggestion did not, however,
altogether commend itself to him. He dis-
liked the idea of spying even upon such a man
as Henshaw, whom he had good reason to
suspect of playing a dastardly game. It was
probable, too, that Henshaw had recognized
him and might be on the look-out; it would
be intensely humiliating to be caught watch-
ing. So, turning the pros and cons over in
his mind, Gifford walked slowly on in a state
of irresolution till he came to a wicket-gate
which admitted from the road to a path which
ran through the churchyard.
There he stopped, debating with himself
whether he should turn back and keep an eye
on Henshaw or go on into the church where
service was just beginning. It did seem
absurd to imagine that Henshaw with his
conveyance could be waiting there by appoint-
ment for a girl of the character and position of
Edith Morriston. True, he had seen them
walking together in secret, which was strange
enough, but that need not necessarily have
been a planned meeting.


IN THE CHURCHYARD 2Ii
Such an urgent curiosity had hold of him
at the bare possibility of something wrong
that he, temporizing with his scruples, was
about to turn back to the lane, when he saw
the figure of a woman coming towards him
along the churchyard path. She was tall
and so far as he could make out, muffled in a
cloak and veil. His heart gave a leap, for
although the woman's face and figure were
indistinguishable the height and gait corre-
sponded with those of Edith Morriston.
As she came near the little gate where he
stood she stopped dead, seemed to hesitate
a moment, and then turned as though to go
back. Determined to set his doubts at rest
Gifford passed quickly through the gate
and followed her at an overtaking pace.
Evidently sensible of her pursuit, the woman
quickened her steps and, as Gifford gained
on her, turned quickly from the path, thread-
ing her way among the graves to escape
him. She had gone but a few steps when in
her hurry she tripped over the mound of a
Small, unmarked grave and fell to the ground.
Gifford ran to her and taking her arm
assisted her to rise.


2I2 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Miss Morriston l’’ he exclaimed, for he now
was sure of her identity. “I hope you are
not hurt,” he added mechanically, his mind full
of a greater and more critical contingency.
“Mr. Gifford ' " she responded ; but he
was sure she had not recognized him then for
the first time. “Oh, no, thank you ; I am
not in the least hurt. It was stupid of me to
trip and fall like that. Are you going to
church 2 ” she added, evidently wishing to
get away.
“I was,” he answered. “And you ?”
“I was too,” she said, conquering her
embarrassment, “but I have a headache,
and prefer the fresh air. Don't let me keep
you,” she held out her hand. “Service
has begun.”
He took her hand. “Miss Morriston,”
he said gravely, “don’t think me very
unmannerly, but I am not going to leave
you here.”
In the bright moonlight he could see her
expression of rather haughty surprise. “I
think you are unmannerly, Mr. Gifford,” she
retorted defiantly. “May I ask why you
are not going to leave me here 2 ”


IN THE CHURCHYARD 213
“Because,” he answered with quiet decision,
“Mr. Henshaw is waiting just there in
Turner's Lane.”
“Is he 2 ” The same defiant note ; but
there was anxiety behind the cold pretence.
“Yes. And pardon me, I have an idea he
is waiting there for you.”
His firm tone and manner baffled equivoca-
tion. “What is it to you if he is 2 ” she
returned with a brave attempt to suggest
cold displeasure. But her lip trembled and
her voice was scarcely steady. º
“It is something to me,” he replied in-
sistently, “because it means a great deal
to you. This man is persecuting you. He
is——”
“Mr. Gifford ' ' she exclaimed. “You
take—”
He held up his hand. “Please let me
finish, Miss Morriston. I can convince you
* that I am not taking too much upon myself.
I am no fool and am not interfering without
warrant. This man Henshaw has succeeded
in persuading you that you are in his power.
That is very far from being the case, and I can
prove it.”


2I6 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“When I told you the other day that I had
found your brooch on the lawn I said, for an
obvious reason, what was not true. I found
it in the room where Clement Henshaw
died.”
“You did,” the girl gasped almost in terror.
“When 2 ” -
“A few minutes after his death,” Gifford
replied calmly. “I happened to be present
in the room when he came by his fatal
wound.”


CHAPTER XX
AN INVOLUNTARY EAVESDROPPER
S she heard the words Edith Morriston
stood for a moment as though trans-
fixed, and then staggered back grasping at a
tombstone for support. Gifford took a
quick step forward, but before he could be of
help she had recovered from the shock, and
motioning him back, was looking at him with
incredulous eyes.
“You were there 2 " she repeated, with
more suspicion now than unbelief. f
“In that room at the top of the tower;
yes; by accident,” he answered in a tone
calculated to reassure her.
“Then you know—you saw what hap-
pened?”
He bowed his head in assent. “Enough
to be sure that Mr. Clement Henshaw was a
great scoundrel, and that his fate was not
altogether unmerited. Now,” he added in a
tone of decision, “you will have nothing
*
217


218 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
more to do with this Gervase Henshaw, or
he with you.”
It was good to see the eager relief in Edith
Morriston's eyes.
“And you never told me this before,” she
said
“I could not very well,” he replied. “And
I should not have told you now had I
not been forced to protect you from this man.
It is a dangerous position for me to stand
in, and I should in ordinary circumstances
have let the affair remain a mystery.”
“I understand your position,” she re-
sponded, with a look of gratitude. “But
you can trust me.” -
“Indeed I can,” he assured her with infinite
COntent. -
“I don't realize it now,” the girl said,
with signs that she was fighting against
the effect of the reaction. “Can you trust me
enough to tell me how it all happened 2 ”
“I would trust you with my life,” he
responded fervently. “Though it hardly
comes to that. Of course I will tell you the
whole story of my adventure. But we had
better not stay here. Mr. Henshaw must


AN EAVESDROPPER 2I9
be getting impatient by this time and may
come to look for you. Before he has the
chance of meeting you it will be well for you
to hear the real facts of the case. Shall we
come into the park, or would your brother
“Dick is at church,” she said, a little
shamefacedly, it seemed. “I gave him the
slip.”
“What a terrible risk you have just run,”
Gifford observed as they went through the
churchyard to the private gate inte the
park. “If I had not happened to come along
just then and see Henshaw waiting x y
“Oh, don’t talk of that now,” she entreated.
“I knew it meant horrible misery for the
rest of my life, but anything seemed better
than the terrible scandal which threatened us.”
“With which Henshaw threatened you, the
scoundrel,” Gifford corrected. “Now you
shall see how little he really had to go upon.”
“And yet,” she murmured, “it seemed
overwhelming. I can scarcely believe even
now that the danger is past.”
“Wait till you hear my story,” he said
with a reassuring Smile.
-4


220 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
*
They had entered the enclosed path, called
Church Walk, and passing the branch which
led to the drive, kept on between the tall
laurel hedges.
“We shall be quite undisturbed here,”
the girl said. “Dick is sure to turn off and
go in by the drive. Now, Mr. Gifford,
do trust me and tell me everything.”
“I hope it is not necessary to talk of
trust between us,” he replied, with as much
tenderness as his chivalry permitted.
“No ; forgive me; I hope not,” she
responded quietly. “Now please tell me,
Mr. Gifford, what I am longing to hear.”
“You will remember,” Gifford began, as
they slowly paced the moon-lit path, “that
on the evening I came down here my suit-
case containing my evening clothes had gone
astray on the railway. There was no chance
of its turning up at the hotel before ten o'clock,
and I was therefore prevented from appearing
at the dance till quite late. Naturally I
would not hear of Kelson waiting for me,
which like the good-natured fellow he is, he
proposed to do ; he therefore went off in
good time.”


AN EAVESDROPPER 22I
“Yes; I remember he arrived quite early,”
Edith Morriston murmured.
“Clement Henshaw,” Gifford proceeded,
“left the hotel about the same time. They
must have reached your house within a few
minutes of one another.”
As he paused, his companion looked round
at him inquiringly. “Yes,” she said, with
a certain suggestion of reticence; “I remem-
ber that too.”
Gifford continued. “Having seen Kelson
off, I went up to our sitting-room to wait
till my kit should arrive. I was very keen
on seeing again the old place where in my
young days I used to spend such happy
months, and my enforced waiting soon became
almost intolerable boredom. The result was
that I got a fit of the fidgets; I could not
settle down to read, and at last, having still
an hour to spare, I resolved in my restlessness
to stroll out and take a preliminary look from
outside at what was practically my old
home.”
“Yes.” There was a catch of growing
excitement in Edith Morriston's voice, which
was scarcely above a whisper.


AN EAVESDROPPER 223
vividly back to me, and I stood there for a
while indulging in a reverie of old days. The
associations of the place seemed every moment
to grip me more compellingly. The tower
seemed quiet and altogether deserted ; all
I could hear was the dance-music away in
the hall. There could be no risk, I thought, of
being seen if I went up to the floor above:
and I quietly ascended the stairs to the first
landing. The narrow passage leading to the
hall was lighted up with sconces; at its farther
end I could see the movement of the dancers
The band was playing a favourite waltz of
mine, and I stayed there rather enjoying
the music and the sight from my safe retreat.
“It did not seem likely that any one would
be coming to the tower, and I resolved,
foolishly enough, for, of course, I was in my
travelling suit, to wander up to the next floor
and take a look at the room which held a
rather sentimental association for me. It
was a stupid thing to do as I was there in,
for the moment, a rather questionable situ-
ation, still I felt pretty secure from being
noticed, and went up warily to the next floor.
“There I found the room considerably


224 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
altered from my recollection of it, especially
as it was arranged as a sitting-out room, but
no one was there, nor were there any signs
of its having been used, which from its rather
secluded position, was natural enough.
“Having given a reminiscent look round
I concluded that it would be best to make a
retreat, especially as there would be ample
opportunity later in the evening for me to
visitit again. I turned and went to the door.
On reaching the stairs I heard to my great
annoyance the sounds of persons coming up
and the subdued tones of a man's voice,
I realized that I was caught, and my one
chance of escape was to retreat up the top-
most flight of stairs and wait in the darkness
till the couple had gone into the room I
had just quitted.
“Accordingly I turned and went up the
remaining flight on tip-toe, two stairs at a
time, waiting beyond the turn in hiding till
the coast should be clear.
“The couple had now reached the landing
below and, so far as I could tell, went into
the room. I was just about to make a quick
descent, hoping to get past that and other


AN EAVESDROPPER 225
awkward points unnoticed, when to my
dismay I became aware that the people whom
I had thought safely settled in the room
below had come out and were beginning to
mount the topmost flight of stairs. This was
indeed a most awkward predicament for me,
and I debated for a moment whether my best
course would not be to go boldly down the
stairs and pass them, rather than retreat to
the top room. If I had chosen the former
course how differently things might have
turned out ; at any rate, for better or worse,
the situation as it exists to-day might have
presented itself in quite another form.”
Edith Morrison glanced quickly at Gifford .
as he uttered the reflection. She seemed
about to speak, but checked the impulse,
and he continued :
“Treading noiselessly, I bolted up the
remaining stairs and went into the dark
room at the top." At the door, which stood
open, I stopped and listened. To my intense
vexation, for the situation was becoming
decidedly unpleasant, the pair were still
coming up. In silence now, but I could hear
their approaching footsteps and the rustle
P


226 THE HUNT-BALL - MYSTERY
of the lady's dress. Unfortunately, there
was no corner on the top landing where I
could stand hidden, so I was forced to draw
back into the room.
“Happily it had been so familiar to me
from childhood that I could find my way
about it in the dark. I well remembered
the little inner room formed by the bartizan
of the tower, and into this I tip-toed, feeling
horribly guilty. If only I had not been in
that suspicious brown suit ! In evening
clothes there would, of course, have been no
necessity for this surreptitious retreat. I
devoutly hoped that the two were merely
bent on exploring the place and that the
darkness of the old lumber-room would
quickly satisfy their curiosity and send them
down again. I heard them come into the
room, the man speaking in a tone so low
that the words were indistinguishable from
where I stood ; and then the sound of the
door being shut struck my ear unpleasantly.
“Then the man spoke in a more audible
voice, a voice which in a flash I recognized
as Henshaw's. And his first words caught my
attention with an unpleasant grip.”


CHAPTER XXI
GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY
“‘ DNAILING to get the regular invitation -
I had a right to expect, I have had
to take this mode of seeing you.’ I just
caught the words in Henshaw's metallic,
rather penetrating voice. -
“The lady's reply was given in a tone so
low that at the distance I stood the words
were indistinguishable.
“‘Unmanly 2 he exclaimed, evidently
taking up her word. ‘I don't admit that for
a moment. You know how we stand to one
another and what my feelings are towards
you. It is no use for you to try to ignore
them or me. I won't stand being treated
like this. There is no reason why my ad-
vances should be repulsed as though they
were an insult.’
“I caught the last words of the lady's
reply: ‘–good reason, and you know it.’
“It was more than clear to me now that
227


228 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
I was to be the witness of a very hateful
piece of business. The man's tone, even
more than his words, made my blood boil,
and I began to congratulate myself on being
thus accidentally in a position to protect,
if need be, the girl whom this fellow was
evidently bullying. With the utmost care I
crept nearer to the small curtained arch which
admitted to the larger room. The pitch
darkness of the little turret chamber in which
I stood made me feel quite safe from observ-
ation. And I had no qualms now about
eavesdropping; the situation surely justified
it. -
“I went forward till I could get a sight
round the arch of the two persons in the room.
They were standing near the window at some
distance from me. In the obscurity, not quite
as impenetrable as that out of which I looked,
I could distinguish the tall figure of the girl
in a dark ball-dress, and facing her, towards
me, the big form of Henshaw.”
“You had no idea who the lady was 2 ”
Edith Morriston interrupted him to ask.
“Naturally not the vaguest,” Gifford an-
swered. /


*
GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY 229
*
“When I had gone as far as was safe,
I set myselſ to listen again.
“‘I don't know what your game is or
whether you think you can play the fool
with me,’ Henshaw was saying in an ugly
tone. “But I warn you not to try it ; I
am not a man to be fooled. Now let us be
friends again,” he added in a softer tone.
“It seemed as though he put out his
hand for a caress, for the girl started back
and I heard her say ‘Never !” -
“‘Folly l’ he exclaimed. Then took a
step forward. “You are in love with another
man 2 he demanded. I could hear the hiss
of the question.
“‘If I were I should not tell you,' was the
defiant reply in a low voice.
“‘You would not ?” he snapped viciously.
‘Let me tell you this, then. You shall never
marry another man while I live. I hold
the bar to that, as you will find.”
“‘You mean to act like a cad 2 ' I heard
the girl say. *
“‘ I mean to act,” he retorted, ‘ like a
sensible man who has a fair advantage and
means, in spite of your caprice, to keep it.’


GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY 231
“‘Keep away !’ the girl said in a hoarse
whisper. ‘If you drive me to desperation
I swear I will kill you.’
“There followed a vicious laugh from
Henshaw and I could tell from the panting
which followed that a struggle was going on.
Just then the moon came out and I could
see that Henshaw was trying to get some
object—a weapon, I guessed—away from
the girl. It is a wonder that neither of them
saw me. In the dark opening I must have
still been practically hidden, and they too
intent on their struggle to notice anything
beyond.
“I was just on the point of springing out
to the girl's assistance when she staggered
back and, turning, made a rush for the door.
In a moment Henshaw was after her, but
in his blind haste he either tripped or stum-
bled and fell heavily. I think it likely that
in the dark he struck against the corner of
the rather massive oak table in the centre of
the room and was thrown off his balance.
He rose immediately, but I was now close
behind him, and as he put out his arm. to
clutch the girl, who was then half through


234 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
Two explanations suggested themselves to
account for his still lying there. One, shame
at his vile conduct having been witnessed
by a third person, the other that he had
struck his head against the wall in falling
and was stunned. -
“Naturally I was not greatly concerned
at the fellow's condition, whichever it was ;
still it would, I concluded, be well to settle
the matter, and if he was merely skulking
see that he cleared out of the house. I shut
the door, and then crossing to where the man
lay, struck a match and held it out to get a
view of him.
“He lay on his face with his arms bent
under him. I prodded him with my foot,
but he did not stir; he lay absolutely,
rather uncannily still. The match burned
out ; I struck another and leaned over to
get a sight of his face. To my horror there
met my eyes a dark wet patch on the floor
which I instinctively felt must be blood.
You may imagine the terrible thrill the con-
viction gave me. Yet I could not believe
even then that anything really serious had
happened.


HOW GIFFORD ESCAPED 235
“I struck a fresh match and holding it up
with one hand, with the other took the man's
shoulder and turned him over on his back.
Then I knew that I was there with a dead
man. The hue of the face was unmistakably
that of death. And the cause of it was plainly
to be seen. There was a wound in the man's
neck from which blood came freely.
“How had the wound—clearly a fatal one—
been caused ? I searched for an explanation.
That which forced itself upon me was that
the girl had in her desperation stabbed her
persecutor with some weapon she had found
there or brought with her. It was a horrible
idea to entertain, although the act would have
been almost justified. I wondered if by
chance the weapon was still there. Striking
a match I looked round. Yes; there on
the floor near the spot where Henshaw had
first fallen, lay a narrow blood-stained chisel.
“Whatever my first conclusions were I
can see now the most probable explanation
of how Henshaw came by his death-wound.
He had forced the chisel away from the
girl; he had kept it in his hand; in his eager-
ness to prevent his victim's escape he had
º
-


236 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
not realized that he was holding it point up-
wards, and when he fell it had pierced him
with all the force of his heavy body falling
plump on it.”
“Then you know it was an accident 2 ”
Edith Morriston drew a great breath of relief
from the painful tension with which she had
listened.
“I can see it was a pure accident,” Gifford
answered. “All the same it was an accident
with an ugly look about it, and I quickly
realized that I was in an equivocal—not to
say dangerous, situation.”
“It was a terrible predicament for you,”
the girl said sympathetically. º
“It was indeed. And one which called
for prompt action. Moreover the very fact
that I was not in evening clothes made it all
the more suspicious. I pulled my wits to-
gether and proceeded to make quite sure
that the man was actually dead. That I
found was beyond all doubt the case, and it
now remained for me to make my escape
before being found there in that hideous
situation.
* “I went out to the landing, closing the


238 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY - *
that I had been to venture into the place
in that garb. But who could have foreseen
the result 2 Anyhow there was no time for
reflection ; it was necessary to act and seek
a possible expedient. Hopelessly enough I
went into the little inner room and struck a
match. In a moment a thrill of hope came
to me, for the first object the light showed me
was a big coil of rope conspicuous among the
odds and ends of lumber in the recess. The
idea of escape by the window had only oc-
curred to me to be dismissed as a sheer impos-
sibility; the height of the tower made that
quite prohibitive, but here seemed a chance
of it. If only the rope was long enough.
“I got hold of the coil as my match burned
out, and pulled it away from the surrounding
rubbish. Its weight gave me hope that it
would be sufficient. In haste I dragged it to
the outer room into which the moonlight
was now streaming. With a shuddering
glance at the dead man, whose ashen face
stared up in ghastly fashion in the moon-
beams, I opened the window and looked out
to make sure that no one was below. Satis-
fied on that point I brought forward the rope


HOW GIFFORD ESCAPED 239
and began paying it out of the window.
To my content I saw that there was a strong
iron stanchion at the side which would
allow of the rope being fastened to it.
“There was light enough just then to
enable me to see pretty well when the end of
the rope reached the ground, and upon
examining what was left in the room I cal-
culated that not much more than half was
outside. In a flash the discovery gave me
an idea. Why should I not simply pass the
rope behind the stanchion and use it doubled P
By that means I could pull it down after me
when I reached the ground, and so not only
effect my escape but also leave the fact uſ?-
known. That, together with the door locked
on the inside, would tend to make Henshaw's
death a mystery with a strong probability
in favour of suicide, which would be altogether
the happiest conclusion to arrive at. In fact
my hastily formed calculation was, as we
know, subsequently borne out and the suicide
theory would probably have been quietly
accepted had it not been for the intervention
of Gervase Henshaw with his smartness and
incredulity.



240 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“That is practically the end of my story,
Miss Morriston. I laid the chisel by the
body, went to the window, pulled in the rope,
carefully got the centre, adjusted it through
the stanchion, and with a last look at the
dead man, got out of the window, a rather
nerve-trying business, and began to lower
myself. I had calculated that the double
rope was long enough to take me to within
a few feet of the ground, and this proved to
be the case. When I came to the end I let
go of one side and pulled the other with me
as I dropped. Then I drew the rope down,
the latter half when released falling with a
great thud. Hastily I set off for the lake,
dragging the rope after me. At the landing-
stage by the boat-house I coiled it up as best
I could and threw it in. As I had anticipated
it was thick and heavy enough to sink without
being weighted. Then with a last glance at
the tower I made my way as quickly as
possible to the hotel in a state of nerves
which you may imagine, little thinking that
my descent from the tower had been wit-
nessed. My first intention was to abandon
all idea of going to the dance, but on reflection


242 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
my mind went to prove that she was the per-
son for whom I was looking. There were dark
red stains on the white roses she wore on
her dress. It was an unpleasant shock to
me, placing me, as it seemed, in a terribly
difficult position. For, at the first blush of
my discovery, it all seemed to fit in. Clement
Henshaw had been, I imagined, in love with
Miss Tredworth before Kelson appeared on
the scene. She had thrown him over for my
friend, and Henshaw, taking his rejection in
bad part, had threatened to expose some
questionable incident in her past. Now that
is all happily explained away, and I won't
retrace the steps by which my imagination
led me on ; but you see how painfully I was
situated with respect to my friend.
“That is my story, Miss Morriston. Had
I known what I know now I should not have
kept it to myself so long; but up to a certain
point, until the last few days, there seemed
no reason for making the dangerous secret
known to any one. Now, when it appears
necessary to protect you from this man,
Henshaw, the account of the part I played
in the tragedy must be told in your interest.” *


244 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“That would be a natural consequence,”
Gifford admitted frankly. “But there was
in my mind always a growing doubt whether
the wound had not been given accidentally.
And that doubt became almost certainty
when the real identity of Henshaw's victim
became apparent.”
Edith Morriston looked at him steadily.
“You know it—for certain 2 ” she asked
almost coldly.
“Naturally I cannot fail to know it now,”
he answered sympathetically.
She gave a rather bitter laugh. “I shall
not deny it to you, Mr. Gifford, even if I
thought it could be of any use. But, knowing
so much, you owe it to me to hear my ex-
planation of matters which look so black
against me, and above all to accept my
absolute assurance that so far as I am
concerned Clement Henshaw's wound was
quite accidental. Indeed I never dreamt
that he had been hurt until his body was
found.”
Gifford seized her hand by an irresistible
impulse.
“Miss Morriston, if you only knew how


º
HOW GIFFORD ESCAPED 245
glad and relieved I am to hear you say
that l” he exclaimed.
“When you hear my story,” she said,
composedly but with an underlying bitterness
which was hardly to be concealed, “the
story of a long martyrdom of persecution—
for it has been nothing less—you will acquit
me of being guilty of anything disreputable.
What I did was innocent enough and it
moreover was forced upon me.”
“Tell me,” he urged tenderly.
“I must tell you,” she returned, “if only
to set myself right in your eyes who have
been witness of the terrible sequel to it all.
But not to-night; it is too late, and the story
is long: it must be told at length. Dick will
be home by this and I must go. I would
ask you to come in, but there would be no
opportunity for private talk there. Will you
meet me to-morrow morning at half-past ten
by the summer-house near the wood that
runs up to James' farm 2 You know it 2 ”
“Well. I will be there.”
“It is rather a long way for you to come,”
she said, “but there are reasons for avoiding
the big wood with the rides.”


CHAPTER XXIII
EDITH MoRRISTON'S STORY
EXT morning Gifford was in good time
at the rendezvous, a sequestered corner
of the park, and Edith Morriston soon joined
him. “Let us come into the summer-
house,” she suggested; “it will be more
convenient for my long story.”
“First of all, tell me,” Gifford said, “ has
anything happened since last night 2 Has
Henshaw made any move 2 ”
She took out a note and handed it to him.
“Only that,” she said with an uneasy laugh.
“There must have been some misunder-
standing last evening,” Gifford read. “I
cannot think that your not keeping the
appointment was intentional. Anyhow I can
wait till to-night, then I shall be at the lane
just beyond the church at 7.30. That you
may not repent I hope you have not repented.”
That was all.
“A thinly veiled threat,” Gifford observed.
247


EDITH MORRISTON'S STORY 251
refusal to fall in with my stepmother's
wishes that I was reduced to a state bordering
on despair. My father, whom I loved, was
turned against me; his mind was so pre-
judiced in favour of the man whom I was
being gradually forced to take as a husband
that he could see no good reason, only sheer
obstinacy, in my refusal. Altogether my
life was becoming a perfect hell. Dick,
who might have stood by me, and made
things less unbearable, was away on a two
years' tour for big game shooting ; I had no
one to confide in, no one to help me.
“Just as things were at their worst and I
was getting quite desperate, I met at a dance
a man named Archie Jolliffe. He had been
a sailor, but having come into money had
given up the Service and settled down to
enjoy himself. He and I got on very well
together from the first ; he was a breezy,
genial, young fellow, fond of fun and adven-
ture and a pleasant contrast in every way
to the man who was threatening to ruin my
life. I don’t know that in happier circum-
stances I should have cared for Jolliffe ;
there wasn't much in him beyond his capa-


252. THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
city for fun ; he was inclined to be fast in a
foolish sort of way; a man's man rather than
one for whom a woman could feel much
respect. Still he was not vicious like the
other, for whom my dislike increased every
time I saw him. --
“Well, Archie Jolliffe fell in love with me
and in his impetuous way made no secret of
it. I need not say it did not take long for
my step-mother to become aware of it, and
with the idea that I was encouraging him she
became furious. Except that poor Archie
was a welcome change from the atmosphere
of my home and the hateful attentions of the
man who was always being left alone with me,
I did not really care for him, and but for Mrs.
Morriston's attitude I should have told him
it was no use his thinking of me. Considering
the sequel, I wish I had done so ; but it is too
late now for regrets. His love-making gave
me a chance of defying my stepmother, and
I rather enjoyed baulking her plans to keep
Archie and me apart. If I did not encourage
him—indeed, I refused him every time he
proposed—I did not dismiss him as I ought
to have done, and he evidently had an idea


254 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
who knows anything will tell you he is quite
impossible.’
“I had heard that, and had told my step-
mother, but of course it did not suit her to
heed me. She cared for nothing beyond the
fact that I should be a countess, and said so.
“Archie and I talked together for a long
time and with the result that in my longing
for protection from the powers against me
and my indignation at the way I was being
treated I had promised when we parted to
marry him, and we had planned to elope
together that very night.
“At that time we were living at Hayn-
thorpe Hall—you know it 2—about ten miles
from here. That evening Islipped out of the
house after dinner and met Archie, who was
waiting for me at a quiet spot outside the
village. His plan was to drive across country
to Branchester Junction, where it was not
likely we should be noticed or recognized,
catch the night train up to town and be
married there next morning. You may im-
agine the state of desperation—utter desper-
ation and recklessness—I was in to have
consented to such a thing, but I could see no


EDITH MORRISTON'S STORY 255
help for it, and of two evils fºseemed to be
choosing the least. The future looked hide-
ously vague and dark; still Jolliffe was capa-
ble of being transformed into a decent hus-
band, while the other man assuredly was not.
“Archie seemed overjoyed, poor fellow,
as I mounted into the dog-cart; he had
hardly expected that I should not repent.
Once we were fairly off and bowling along
the dark road, a sense of relief came to me, and
whatever qualms I may have felt soon van-
ished. However wrong my conduct was I
had been driven to it and my father, for whom
I was sorry, by taking part against me,
deserved to lose me.
“My companion had the tact not to talk
much, and I was glad to think he could
realize the seriousness of the step he had
persuaded me to take. But the little he did
say was affectionately sympathetic and, now
that the die was cast, it comforted me to
indulge hopes of him.
“All went well till we were about three
miles from Branchester; then an awful thing
happened. Our horse was a fast trotter, and
Archie let him have his head, knowing that


256 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
it would never do for us to miss the train.
As we turned a blind corner we came into
collision with another dog-cart which we had
neither seen nor heard. The force of the
impact was so great that our off-wheel was
smashed ; the cart went over, we were both
flung out, and as I fell I realized horribly
that my desperate expedient was a failure.
“I was not much hurt, for my fall was
broken, and I soon scrambled to my feet.
But Archie lay there motionless. The man
who was the only occupant of the other dog-
cart had pulled into the hedge and alighted.
He came up to offer his help, and to express
his sorrow at the accident, which he said,
doubtless with truth, was not his fault. I
dare say you will have guessed that the man
was Clement Henshaw. Between us we .
raised Archie and carried him to the side of
the road. He was quite insensible, and
breathing heavily.
“‘I am afraid he is rather seriously hurt,’
the man said sympathetically. “We ought
to get him to Branchester Hospital as soon as
possible.” -
“I was so overwhelmed by the sudden
*


EDITH MORRISTON'S STORY 257
and terrible end to our adventure that I
could think of nothing. By a great piece of
luck a belated dray came along on its way to
Branchester. Into this, with the driver's
help, we lifted poor Archie ; and then Hen-
Shaw and I drove on in his trap to prepare
the hospital authorities for the patient's
arrival. The doctor after a cursory examina-
tion gave very little hope, and I left the hos-
pital in a most wretched state of mind,
feeling more than indirectly responsible for
the end of that bright young life. Henshaw
arranged for the horse and smashed dog-
cart to be fetched from the scene of the
accident, and then he asked where in the town
he should escort me. *
“I thanked him and said, a good deal to his
surprise, that I was not going to stop in
Branchester, but would hire a fly and drive
to my destination. I stood, of course, in a
hideously false position, and that he very
Soon began to divine ; he would not hear of
my getting a fly at that hour of the night,
but insisted on driving me in his trap to
wherever I wished to go.
“Unhappily I had no idea of the man's
R


258 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
character, or I should never have dreamt
of accepting his offer ; but I was then in no
state of mind to judge his nature or question
his motives; he had proved himself infin-
itely kind and resourceful, so in my lonely
and agitated condition I consented, little
imagining what the dire result to me would be.
“On the drive back to my home I was
naturally in a horribly distressed state of
mind, and hardly dared think of the future.
My companion tactfully refrained from much
talking, although I had an idea that his
curiosity was greatly excited to learn the
explanation of the affair ; he put occasionally
a leading question which I always evaded,
when he took the hint and did not press his
inquiries. So far as every one else was con-
cerned there had been no idea of connecting
me with poor Archie Jolliffe. The hospital
people believed that he had been driving
alone, and that I had been in the trap with
Henshaw. I dare say they took me for his
sister or his wife.
“At last, after one of the most wretched
hours I ever spent—and I have had more
than my fair share of trouble—we reached


|
EDITH MORRISTON'S STORY 259
Haynthorpe, and on the outskirts of the
village I asked Henshaw to set me down.
He stopped and looked at me curiously.
“‘Can't you trust me to drive you to your
home 2''' he said insinuatingly.
“I replied that I preferred to get down
where we were, and thanked him as warmly as
I was able for all his services.
“‘You haven’t even told me your name,’
he protested. ‘Mine is Clement Henshaw ;
I am staying at Flinton for hunting.’
“My answer was that he must not think
me ungrateful, but that I would rather not
tell him my name. It could be of no con-
sequence to him.
“‘I should like at least,” he urged, ‘to be
allowed to drive over and report how your—
friend—or was it your brother?—is getting on.’
“I thanked him, made the best excuse I
could for refusing, got down from the trap
and hurried off through the dark village street,
thankful to get away from those awkward
questions.
* “But if I thought I had finally got rid of
Mr. Clement Henshaw I was, in my ignorance
of the man, woefully mistaken.”
* .


CHAPTER XXIV
HOW THE STORY ENDED
- - HEN I reached the house luck un-
expectedly favoured me. My maid,
whom I had been obliged to take, up to a
certain point, into my confidence, and who,
after the manner of her class, had acquired
more than a sympathetic inkling of the way
my people had been treating me, was waiting
up on the look-out for my return, and quietly
let me in. She told me that no one but her-
self had any idea that I was out of the house ;
she had led them to believe that I had gone
to bed early with a headache, which con-
sidering the stress of the past two days was
plausible enough. So I got back safely to
my room which it had not seemed likely I
should ever enter again, and next morning I
could see that my over-night's adventure
was quite unsuspected.
“Naturally I anticipated a continuation
260


262 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
*
how things rearranged themselves afterwards.
Certainly if I was to blame for his piteous
end, I was to pay the penalty. For no sooner
was I out of one trouble than another was
ready for me.
“After this long preface, I come to the
most unpleasant episode of Henshaw and his
persecution.
“On the day I heard of poor Archie's
death I had gone out for a walk possessed by
a great longing to be alone in my grief. On
my way home by a woodland path leading
to the Hall grounds, I, to my great annoy-
ance, came upon Clement Henshaw. I can't
say I was altogether surprised, for I had
caught a glimpse of some one very like him
in the village a day or two before. Of that
. I had thought little, merely taking care that
the man did not see me. But now there was
no avoiding him, and I had more than a sus-
picion that he had been lying in wait for me.
At the risk of appearing horribly ungrateful
I made up my mind on the instant to try to
pass him with a bow, but need not say that
was utterly futile. He stood directly in my
path, and raised his hat.


264 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
ward I became subject to a determined system
of persecution from Clement Henshaw. He
waylaid me on every possible occasion, holding
over me a covert threat of the exposure of
my escapade, till at last I was absolutely
afraid to go outside the house for fear of
meeting him.”
“He wanted to marry you ?” Gifford sug-
gested.
Edith Morriston gave a little shudder. “I
suppose so. He was always making love to
me, and was quite impervious to snubbing.
When, in consequence of my keeping within
bounds of the house and garden, he could
not see me, he took to writing, and kept me
in terror lest one of his letters should fall into
my stepmother's hands. I wished after-
wards that I had taken a bold line, confessed
what had happened, and defied the conse-
quences. I think it was the fear of being
disgraced in my brother's eyes on his return
which kept me from doing so. -
“In the midst of my worry my father fell
into a state of bad health and we took him
down to the Devonshire coast for change of
air. Needless to say Henshaw soon found


266 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
and Dick, always fond of sport, was soon in
negotiation for this place which had come
into the market.
“No sooner had we settled in here than, to
my horror, Clement Henshaw began to renew
his persecution. He had evidently heard that
I had inherited a good share of my father's
fortune, and was worth making another effort
for. He recommenced to write to me, he
came down secretly and waylaid me, and when
everything else failed he resorted to threats,
not veiled as before, but open and unmistak-
able. He vowed that if I persisted in refusing
to marry him he would take good care that I
should never marry any one else. He held,
he said, my reputation in his hand; he hoped
he should never have to use his power, but I
ought to consider the state of his feelings
towards me and not goad him to desperate
measures. In short he took all the joy out
of my life, for I had come from mere dislike
simply to loathe the man who could show
himself such a dastardly cad. And the worst
of it was that I saw no way out of it. Dick
is a good fellow and very fond of me, but,
although you might not think it, he is almost


HOW THE STORY ENDED 267
absurdly proud of the family name and its
unsmirched record. And if I had confided
in him, and he had horsewhipped Henshaw,
what good could that have done 2 It would
simply have infuriated the man, who would
have at once made public my escapade, and
few people would have given me the credit
of its being innocent. Dick had just sunk a
large part of his fortune in this place, he had
taken over the hounds and was certain of
becoming popular. All that would be nulli-
fied and upset if this man, Henshaw, chose
to let loose his tongue. For how could I even
pretend to deny his story 2 At the very
least the truth would mean a hateful reflec-
tion on my dead father, and the whole thing
would have led to an intolerable scandal.
Yet it seemed as though this could be avoided
in no other way but by marrying my perse-
cutor, a man whom I had reason to hate and
who had shown himself to be such an un-
chivalrous bully. About this time—that is
shortly before the Hunt Ball—rumours had
got about the neighbourhood that I was going
to marry Lord Painswick. He was certainly
paying me a good deal of attention, and I
—


268 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
fancy Dick would have liked the match, but
I could not bring myself to care for Painswick,
and indeed his courtship only added to my
other worries.
“But Clement Henshaw heard the rumour
and it had naturally the effect of rousing his
wretched pursuit of me to greater activity.
He vowed with brutal vehemence that I
should not marry Painswick, and declared
that when our engagement was announced
he would tell him the story he had against
me. That in itself did not trouble me much
since I had no intention of marrying Pains-
wick; still the man's relentless persecution
was getting more than I could bear.
“I now come to the night of the Hunt
Ball. For some days previously I had seen
or heard nothing of Henshaw, and had even
begun to hope that something might have
happened to make the man abandon his line
of conduct. I might have known him better.
To my intense annoyance and dismay I saw
him come into the ballroom with all the
hateful assurance that was so familiar to me.
I could not well escape, seeing that I was
acting as hostess. For a while he, beyond


How THE STORY ENDED 269
a formal greeting, let me alone. But I felt
what was surely coming, and it was almost
a relief when he took an opportunity of asking
for a dance.
“He must have seen the hate in my eyes
as in my hesitation they met his, for he said
with a forced laugh, “You need not do violence
to your feelings by dancing with me, Miss
Morriston, if you don't care to, but there is
something I must say to you. Let us come
out of the crowd to where we shall not be
overheard.’
“I had never felt so madly furious with the
man as at that moment; and it was with a
reckless desiri to tell him in strong language
my opinion of his tactics, to insult him, if
that were possible, to declare that I would
die rather than yield to him, that I led the
way to the tower. My desire to get out of
the crowd was even greater than his, for a mad
hope possessed me that in some desperate
way I might bring our relations to a final
issue. -
“We went into the sitting-out room. “Some
one will be coming in here,' he objected. “Is
there a room upstairs where we can talk 2'


HOW THE STORY ENDED 27I
hand afterwards. When I rushed for the
door in a sudden panic, for, knowing that I
had hurt him, I believed the man in his rage
might be capable of anything, and when in
springing after me he stumbled and fell, the
chisel must have been held by him edge
upwards, and so pierced him to his death.”
“That, I am certain now,” Gifford said,
“is what must have happened.”
“And you thought I had stabbed him 2 ”
the girl said with a reproachful smile.
“I hardly dare ask you to forgive me
for harbouring such a thought,” he replied.
“Yet had it been true I, who had been a wit-
ness of the man's vile conduct, could never
have blamed you. If ever an act was justifi-
able—”
An elongated shadow shot forward on the
ground in front of them. Gifford stopped
abruptly, and with an involuntary action his
companion clutched his arm as both looked
up expectantly. Next moment Gervase
Henshaw stood before them.


CHAPTER XXV
DEFIANCE
OR Some moments Henshaw did not
speak; indeed, it was probable that
the unexpected success of his search for .
Edith Morriston—for such doubtless was his
object—had so disagreeably startled him,
that he was unable to pull those sharp wits
of his together at once. But the expression
which flashed into his eyes, and that came in-
stantaneously, was of so vengeful and threat-
ening a character, that Gifford felt glad he
was there to protect the girl from her now
enraged persecutor.
“I did not expect to find you here, Miss
Morriston.”
The words came sharply and wrathfully,
when the man had found his glib tongue.
Gifford answered. “Miss Morriston and I
have been enjoying the view and the air of the
pines.”
272


DEFIANCE 275
much wronged and cruelly persecuted lady.
You had better postpone what you have to
say till this afternoon, when we will come to
an understanding as to your conduct. Now,
as you are on private land, you had better
take the nearest way to the public road.”
Henshaw looked as though he would have
liked to bring the dispute to the issue of a
physical encounter, had but the coward in
him dared. “I am here by permission,” he
returned, standing his ground.
“Which has been rescinded by the vile
use to which you have chosen to put it,”
Gifford rejoined. “I have Miss Morriston's
authority to treat you as a trespasser, and to
order you off her brother's land.”
Henshaw fell back a step. “Very well,
Mr. Gifford,” he returned with an ugly sneer.
“You talk with great confidence now, but we
shall see. You will be wiser by this time to-
morrow.”
With that he turned and walked off ; Gif-
ford, after watching him for a while, went back
to the summer-house.
“I have put things in the right train there,”
he remarked with a confident laugh. “I


DEFIANCE 277
I must not keep you any longer. I am so
grateful for the confidence you have given
me. May I call later on and tell you the
result 2 ''
Her eyes were on him in an almost piteous
searching for hope in his resolute face. “Of
course,” she responded. “I shall be so
terribly anxious to know.”
Chivalrously avoiding any suggestion of
tenderness, he shook hands and went off
towards the town. -


279
The keen
genial; but
e deceived by
aw bowed and
licated. There
each waited for
ind it was Gifford
In .
e to an under-
shaw, with regard
º, not to say perse-
orriston has been
..” Henshaw drew
smile. “I have to
sued, “once and for
-
orizes you to tell me
as put with something
requires no authority,”
Having cognizance of
g on, it is my plain
Henshaw interrupted
reason,” Gifford repli-' -


ISSUE JOINED 28I
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw,” Gif-
ford objected with decision, “there can be,
and is, a very great deal more than a doubt of
it.” -
Henshaw shot a searching glance at the man
who spoke so confidently, as though trying to
probe what, if anything, was behind his words.
“Perhaps you know then,” he returned
with his sneering smile, “how otherwise, if
the lady had no hand in it, my brother came
by his death 2 ”
“I do,” was the quiet answer.
“Then,” still the smile of sneering in-
credulity, “it is clearly your duty to make
it known.”
“Clearly,” Gifford assented in a calm tone.
“That is why I asked you to come here this
afternoon.”
Henshaw was looking at him with a sort
of malicious curiosity. In spite of his Smart-
ness he seemed at a loss to divine what the
other was driving at, unless it were a well-
studied line of bluff. But that Gifford could
have, apart from what Edith Morriston might
have told him, any intimate knowledge of
the tragedy was inconceivable.
-


286 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
*
“As I have just told you,” Gifford re-
turned quietly, “I would take that risk
rather than allow Miss Morriston to remain
longer under suspicion. As for myself I
should have every confidence in the re-
Sult.”
“It is well to be sanguine,” Henshaw
sneered. “If you have not already done so,
are you prepared to repeat your story to the
police 2 "
“Most certainly I am, if necessary,” was
the prompt answer. “But I do not fancy
you will wish me to do so.”
Henshaw's look was one of surprise, real or
affected. “Indeed 2 Why so 2 ”
“I will tell you,” Gifford replied with a
touch of sternness. “Because it would be
absolutely against your interest. For one
thing it would, short of absolute proof, leave
still the shadow of doubt over your brother's
death, it would effectually put a stop to your
designs on Miss Morriston, which in any case
must come to an end, and it would show up
your dead brother's character and conduct
in a very disreputable light. Now what I
have to say to you is this. I know that,
y y


ISSUE JOINED 289
º
... “This is a very fine piece of bravado, Mr.
Gifford. But I am not such a fool as it pleases
you to think me. It is very good of you to
explain to me my position in this affair; I am,
however, quite capable of seeing that for
myself. And you can hardly expect me to
look upon your gratuitous advice as disin-
terested.”
The man was talking to gain time; Gifford
shrewdly guessed that. “I might be par-
doned for supposing you do not altogether
realize how you stand,” he replied quietly.
“But, after all, that is, as you suggest, your
affair.”
Henshaw forced a smile. “The point of
view is everything,” he said in a preoccupied
tone ; “and ours, yours and mine, are dia-
metrically opposed.”
“The point of view which perhaps ought
most to be considered,” Gifford retorted with
rising impatience, “is that of the honourable
profession to which we both belong. If you
are prepared to face the odium, professional
and social, of an exposure—”
Henshaw interrupted him with a wave of
the hand. “You may apply that to your-
T


290 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
self and to your friend, Miss Morriston,” he
said sharply. “I can take care of myself,
thank you.”
Gifford shrugged. “Very well, then.
There is no more to be said.” He crossed the
room and took up his hat. “I will go and
see Major Freeman at once.” At the door
he turned, to see with surprise and a certain
satisfaction that Henshaw, although he had
risen from his chair, seemed in no hurry to
move. “You are coming with me,” he sug-
gested. “It would be quite in order, I think,
for you to be present at my statement—
unless you prefer not.”
It seemed clear that the rather foxy Ger-
vase Henshaw had really more than suspected
a studied game of bluff. But now Gifford's
attitude tended to put that out of the ques-
tion.
“In the circumstances, as your statement
will consist mainly of a slander against me
and my dead brother,” Henshaw replied
sullenly, “I prefer to keep out of the business
for the present. I fancy,” he added with an
ugly significance, “ that the police will be
quite equal to dealing with the situation with-
*
*


ISSUE JOINED 29I
i
out any assistance or intervention from me.”
Gifford ignored the covert threat. “Very
well, then,” he said, throwing open the door
and standing aside for Henshaw to pass out ;
“I will go alone. Yes; it will be better.”
But Henshaw did not move.
“I don’t quite gather,” he said in answer to
Gifford's glance of inquiry, “exactly what
your object is in taking this step.”
“I should have thought—” Gifford be-
gan.
“Is it,” Henshaw proceeded, falling back
now to his ordinary lawyer-like tone—“ is it
merely to checkmate what you are pleased
to call my designs upon Miss Morriston 2 ”
“That will be a mere incidental result,”
Gifford answered, shutting the door and
coming back into the room. “My object
is to put it, at once and for all, out of your
power to hold over Miss Morriston the threat
that she is at any moment liable to be accused
—by you of all people—of your brother's
murder, and so suggest that she is in your
power.”
“Why do you say by me, of all people 2 ”
“You who profess an affection for her.”


292 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“Your word profess scarcely does me jus-
tice, Mr. Gifford,” Henshaw returned, draw-
ing back his shut lips. “I had, and have,
a very sincere affection for Edith Morriston,
which, it seems, I am not to be allowed to
declare or even have credit for. As a man
of the world you can hardly pretend to be
ignorant of what a man will do when his hap-
piness is at stake. What he does under such a
stress is no guide to his real feelings. But
we need not labour that point. My affection,
genuine or not, seems to be in no fair way
to be requited, and I had already made up
my mind to leave it at that. I have merely
kept up the game to this point out of curiosity
to see how far your—shall we say knight-
errantry 2—would lead you. I will now
relieve you from the necessity of going through
an act of Quixotic folly which would assuredly,
Sooner or later, have unpleasant consequences
for you.”
So Gifford realized with a thrill of pleasure
that he had won. He felt that in much of
his speech the man was lying ; that no con-
sideration of mere unrequited affection had
induced him to abandon his design.


294 THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
“You have heard my story,” Gifford pur-
sued with steady decisiveness, “ and have, I
presume, accepted it.”
“For what it is worth.” The smart of
defeat prompted the futile reply.
“That won’t do at all,” Gifford returned
with sternness. “You either accept the
account I have just given you, or you do not.”
There was something like murder in Hen-
shaw's eyes as he replied, “This bullying
attitude is what I might expect from you.
To put an end, however, to this most un-
pleasant interview you may take it that I
accept your statement.”
“To the absolute exoneration of Miss
Morriston 2 ”
“Naturally.”
“I must have your assurance in writing.”
Henshaw fell back a step and for a moment
showed signs of an uncompromising refusal.
“You are going a little too far, Mr. Gifford,”
he said doggedly.
“Not at all,” Gifford retorted. “It is
imperatively necessary.”
“Is it 2 ” Henshaw Sneered. “ For what
purpose 2 ”.


ISSUE JOINED 295
“For Miss Morriston's protection.”
The sneer deepened. “I should have
thought that purpose quite negligible, seeing
how valiantly the lady is already protected.
But I have no objection,” he added in an
offhand tone, “as you seem to distrust the
lasting power of bluff, to give you an extra
safeguard. Indeed I think it just as well, all
things considered, that Miss Morriston should
have it. Give me a pen and a sheet of paper.”
Henshaw's manner was now the quintes-
sence of insolence, but Gifford could afford,
although it cost him an effort, to ignore it.
With the practised pen of a lawyer Henshaw
quickly wrote down a short declaration,
signing it with a flourish and then flicking
it across the table to Gifford. “That should
meet the case,” he said, leaning back con-
fidently and thrusting his hands into his
pockets. Dealing with one who, like him-
self, was learned in the law he had, to save
trouble, written a terse declaration which he
knew should be quite acceptable. It simply
stated that from certain facts which had
come to his knowledge he was quite satisfied
that his brother's death had been caused by


CHAPTER XXVII
GIFFORD’s REWARD
ITH the precious declaration in his
pocket Gifford lost no time in going
to Wynford Place. His light heart must
have been reflected in his face, for Edith Mor-
riston's anxious look brightened as she joined
him in the drawing-room. All the same it
seemed as though she almost feared to ask
the result, and he was the first to speak.
“I bring you good news, Miss Morriston.
You have nothing more to fear from Gervase
Henshaw.” -
“Ah !” She caught her breath, and for a
moment seemed unable to respond. “Tell
me,” she said at length, almost breathlessly.
“I have had a long and, as you may imagine,
not very pleasant interview with the fellow,”
he answered quietly ; “and am happy to say
I won all along the line.”
“You won 2 You mean—?”
297 -


GIFFORD'S REWARD 299
to lose more heavily than he could afford.
The conclusion, however, was at last borne
in upon him that the position he had taken
up was untenable, and that paper is the
result.”
“That paper,” she said in a low voice,
“means life to me instead of a living death;
it means more than I can tell you, more than
even you can understand.”
He had risen, but before he could speak she
had come to him and impulsively taken his
hand. “Mr. Gifford,” she said, “tell me
how I can repay you.”
Her eyes met his ; they were full of grati-
tude and something more. But he resisted
the temptation to answer her question in the
way it was plain to him he was invited to do.
“It is reward enough for me to have served
you,” he responded steadily. “Seeing that
chance gave me the power, I could do no less.”
“You would have risked your life for mine,”
she persisted, her eyes still on him.
“Hardly that,” he returned, with an effort
to force a smile. “But had it been neces-
sary, I should have been quite content to do
2 x
SO.


GIFFORD's REWARD 303
day is the 16th ; on this day month I shall
hear from you ?”
“Yes, on the I6th,” she answered.
“And so,” he said, “you are free, unless
you call me back to you.”
“That is understood,” she said with a
Smile.
He might have kissed her lips, her look into
his eyes was almost an invitation, but, having
steeled himself to be scrupulously fair, he
refrained and contented himself with kissing
her hand.
On reaching the hotel he heard with satis-
faction that Henshaw had gone off by the
late afternoon train and had suggested the
unlikelihood of his returning. “So I suppose
he is content to let the mystery remain a
mystery,” the landlord remarked. And the
Coroner's jury subsequently had perforce
to come to the same conclusion. -
On the 16th of the following month, Hug
Gifford's impatience and anxiety were set
at rest, as the morning's post brought the
expected letter from Wynford.
“Dick and I are expecting you here to-
morrow, unless you have changed your mind


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