V
 
 7.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 *
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 The Drams of Fate 
 
 Some Press Opinions 
 
 " One of the finest tales of London life which has 
 been written for some years." Morning Leader. 
 
 "Since "Liza of Lambeth' was written, nothing so 
 poignant as ' The Drums of Fate ' has been given to 
 literature. It has just that rare quality which endeared 
 Dickens to his readers." Daily Express. 
 
 "A masterpiece of characterisation." Saturday 
 Review. 
 
 "A novel of force and originality. . . . Mr Halifax 
 knows what he is talking about, and this tale of mean 
 streets draws.you down to " the thoughts that burn like 
 irons when you thirst " ; and sometimes the drums beat 
 out a merry measure, so that Fate has been associated 
 in the story, and indeed in real life, with terror and 
 death. If anything the tale is too clever, too full of 
 clever sentences, which tumble over one another and 
 make a noise. Read this book ; the roll of drums will 
 stir you." Daily News. 
 
 " A city tragedy, told by a man who has genius in 
 him, and has drawn that rare thing a portrait of a 
 woman who was a sinner." Public Opinion. 
 
 "Of the individual characters we have nothing but 
 the highest praise. From an artistic point of view 
 they soar high, and we heartily congratulate Mr 
 Halifax on his latest creation. We look forward to 
 good work from his pen." Literary World. 
 
 " If you want to read a book quite out of the com- 
 mon, read ' The Drums of Fate by Robert Halifax. 
 I. Gahln is as original as any petticoat that has flitted 
 across the features of the twentieth century." 
 " Dagonet " in The Referee. 
 
 " A bright, clever story of the dark side of London, 
 of London's life." People. 
 
 1 ' Touched with the genuine humour of the London 
 streets." Daily Telegraph. 
 
 "It is a positive pleasure to come ^across such a 
 clever, powerful, original novel as this. We have 
 seldom seen a study of greater fidelity, pathos, and 
 mingled humour." Bookseller. 
 
 "With wild and passionate haste a strange figure 
 rushes through these pages. . . . Mr Halifax knows 
 his London and its people thoroughly. . . . _The story 
 is happily conceived, and developed with skill, and in 
 good taste." Scotsman.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT HALIFAX 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE DRUMS OF FATE," " THE MAN BETWEEN ' 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DIGBY, LONG & CO. 
 
 1 8 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
 1907 
 
 (All Rights Reserved)
 
 THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " THERE ! there it is ! It's a woman it's her \ " 
 
 The crowd surged forward yet another foot 
 nearer the great iron gates that parted it from 
 the living mystery. Then all was deathly still ; 
 breathing and heart-beats seemed to be suspended ; 
 eyes strained to see through that blue-black twi- 
 light of the cypress avenue. Nothing nothing 
 yes ! There, only a few paces down, as if it had 
 risen from the solid earth, stood a woman's figure. 
 With one long white hand she held together the 
 ends of a fleecy white wrapper flung around her 
 dark head ; the other shaded her eyes, as she 
 looked back at them. Never moving, she stood 
 like a woman waiting for something to which no 
 one else in all Felcote could give a name. They 
 might almost feel, without seeing, the fathomless, 
 far-away smile of contempt in her eyes eat into 
 them. They were edging silently back, awed by 
 the frozen stillness of one woman. And then, 
 as if a crowd of Felcote people were no more 
 to her than a flock of sheep, she had turned slowly 
 back, the swish of her nurse's grey robe dying 
 down the leaf-strewn path. Just too late the 
 spell was broken ; a husky voice came from the 
 back of the crowd. 
 " She's no woman. She's a witch ! a witch 
 
 2130099
 
 2 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 in angel's uniform. I'd tell her so to her face, 
 if it weren't for Miss Sheba ! Does a woman 
 turn the key in the door of a dying man's room, 
 and keep it turned? She's done that to keep 
 Miss Sheba out. There's money. Where there's 
 money, there's always a devil in the background. 
 That's me Anthony Lee ! " 
 
 And a deep-throated growl rose and died. 
 Then, the thick silence of suspense again. They 
 could do nothing nothing but stare on through 
 the blue haze for some fresh sign from the house 
 of mystery. It could not be long now ere Doctor 
 Lancing's Panhard car came whizzing round the 
 road-bend. His face, even in that light, would 
 decide the supreme question of all life or death 
 for the man who lay in that northern corridor. 
 
 Away in the distance lay the dome of amber 
 gaslight over Barrowdene town, and beyond it 
 the iron foundry furnaces that never slept sent 
 up a crimson trail of smoke and flame. Here, 
 the scent of hay and sweetbrier came through the 
 stark stillness of summer evening ; and here, un- 
 seen but felt, the wan figure of Tragedy seemed 
 to stand waiting and listening. 
 
 Old Spartan Loder was dying. Dying! The 
 word had flashed from incredulous lip to lip. It 
 had drawn a fascinated crowd. The fate of all 
 Felcote seemed to hang in the balances. What 
 would happen what could happen? 
 
 Wealth had brought no happiness to the master 
 of the Manor House at Felcote. It had frozen 
 him withered him. He had cursed London and 
 its whirl ; he had curled his thin lip when Barrow- 
 dene sent a deputation to beg him to voice their
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 3 
 
 interests in Parliament. That sardonic hatred of 
 women, believed to thrill in every fibre of his lean 
 body, had of late years seemed to expand into 
 a horror of all humanity. He had practically 
 buried himself here, till a wall of mystery had 
 grown up around the old house. Merely to hear 
 the tap-tap of his stick on the gravel walks had 
 been something to talk of for days ; to catch a 
 fugitive glimpse of the man himself, with the 
 furrows of that great secret sunk as deep in his 
 hard face as though scored with a chisel, was 
 something to haunt one's dreams. Spartan Loder 
 at times carried a gun, and was said to have 
 fired more than once at a shadow or a rustling 
 bush. 
 
 Money vast hoards of it was hidden away 
 in unknown corners of these same grounds, all 
 Felcote believed. He had trusted no bank ; no 
 letters reached him ; but his housekeeper could 
 always pay in hard coin. Rumours had reached 
 Felcote that the silent man could walk upon a 
 pathway of his own gold, if he chose. And at 
 this crucial moment the only known heir to it 
 all was wandering the world, unconsciously evad- 
 ing all the lawyers' strenuous efforts to trace him. 
 The thrilling irony of it ! 
 
 Dying ! The word had a new, eerie note in 
 it to-night. To pass silently away from the place 
 as he had lived with his life's mystery unrevealed 
 impossible ! For not even Miss Sheba, his 
 ward, who drove through Felcote every day with 
 that same faint, wistful smile upon her oval face, 
 could tear away a corner of the veil. She knew 
 nothing ; she had never sought to know ; she had
 
 4 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 lived in the same utter darkness as themselves. 
 And now 
 
 " Stand back, here it comes ! " 
 
 Two or three figures sprang forward to swing 
 back the gates. There was a lodge just inside, 
 but its doors were for ever barred, and its windows 
 stared out like blind eyes : Spartan Loder had 
 had no use for a lodge-keeper. 
 
 A false alarm. It was not the doctor's gliding 
 Panhard, and it came in the wrong direction. 
 Through the dusk loomed a low basket-chaise. 
 A slow laugh, clear as the note of a silver bell, 
 curiously jarring at that moment, rippled through 
 the hush. 
 
 " Carlotta Barrington ! " someone whispered. 
 
 The pony reared to a standstill. The girl 
 gripping its reins craned out, a picture hat of 
 poppies and corn waving above her fair, imperious 
 face with its crown of chestnut hair. 
 
 " Blanche, look look ! What has happened ? " 
 She swung dramatically round to face the staring 
 crowd. "Why are all you people waiting here? 
 What is feared ? Surely we should have been first 
 to hear of it ? " 
 
 " Seems you weren't, miss," came back a voice 
 in the pause. " They're saying the Manor House 
 might have a master till dawn, but no longer." 
 
 " Dawn ! Oh, how terrible ! You cannot mean 
 it ! You have quite unnerved me, with all your 
 faces staring through the dark like that." She 
 twitched the reins suddenly, sent the pony flying 
 on, and bent across to peer into her sister's eyes. 
 " You heard ? Terrible for her, I meant ! Put 
 yourself in her place to-night, if it's true ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 5 
 
 " Sheba St John ? Thanks ! " Blanche's white 
 teeth came together with a click. She seemed to 
 shiver in her film of laces. " Holding her breath 
 to hear her life sentence from the lips of a man a 
 madman like Spartan Loder, you mean ? She'll 
 go as she came, I prophesy. What was the pretty 
 story put into circulation? He went to London 
 or somewhere on one of his periodical disappear- 
 ances, saw her beautiful, tear-stained child's face 
 in the street, heard that she had been deserted by 
 a wealthy parent, took her to his withered breast 
 on the spot, and brought her here to set every 
 beautiful woman in the place tingling with jealousy. 
 His grimmest stroke of perversity ! " 
 
 " Wait ! " Carlotta breathed back. " He lifts his 
 hat to her still, we hear. That's more than most 
 men do to their own wives, although they may 
 never fail in respect to other men's wives ; that's 
 supposed to be one test of a gentleman. I only 
 know one man of the sort Doctor Gilbert Lancing ; 
 and I live to discover whether he veils an inward 
 sneer with that splendid bow of his. But, do think 
 of it ! Perhaps only twelve hours more left be- 
 tween her and the last chance of the heir's appear- 
 ance in time between her and that vast fortune, 
 you might say ! For undoubtedly that is to be 
 Spartan Loder's final stroke of irony. If the heir 
 arrives in time, she stands back ; if not, she can 
 snap her fingers at all the world a millionairess ! " 
 
 " A woman who never cared two straws for 
 money, you have heard over and over again ! " 
 
 " Bah ! " Carlotta swayed back with a derisive 
 laugh. " She knew it was policy to prepare our 
 minds for the worst. I n her own mind But there,
 
 6 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 the woman's a superb actress. Give her her due ! 
 She wears the rosebud, startled shyness of a child 
 veneered upon the subtle art of the syren ; and she 
 has twisted that hard old stick of a man around 
 her finger as no other woman could have done. 
 It's clear as daylight! That other girl, Judith 
 Cottrell, his nurse, has found it out, and loathes 
 her. They watch each other day and night up 
 there like tigresses, I'm told. By-the-by, did you 
 hear that the nurse was brought to the house, 
 veiled, in Doctor Lancing's own car, and that 
 nothing whatever can be found out about her ? 
 It's all so strange that I long I fairly long to 
 thresh it out ! " She gave the reins another startling 
 twitch. " Yes ; pity that Sheba's final agony of 
 suspense this night ! All or nothing, perhaps, 
 after all these years of silent waiting ! For I will 
 wager all I possess that not a living soul will know 
 what Spartan Loder means to do with his money 
 until it is too late to make one stroke of alteration. 
 Heavens, yes, I feel for her ! " 
 
 Down there at the end of the avenue the main 
 door of the house stood ajar, letting out a sword of 
 steady lamplight from the hall. Judith Cottrell, 
 her brief spell of deep breathing in fresh air at an 
 end, had a preference for the balcony doors opening 
 into the dining-room. With calm, noiseless steps 
 she went up the terrace, felt her way across the 
 great, dark apartment, opened the door opposite 
 and drew back quietly. Just now, when the house 
 was gripped in a spell of uncertainty, even a foot- 
 xstep seemed to have a significance of its own. 
 Someone was coming down the corridor to the 
 hall.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 7 
 
 Sheba, with her marble-like, oval face and wide, 
 dry eyes ? No ; Mrs Saxon, the stately house- 
 keeper, her keys jingling and silks rustling, had 
 paused at the staircase foot to listen, and then 
 swept on to glance out up the dark drive. Judith 
 watched, half a smile on her weary-looking, 
 Cleopatra-like face, as the other went back down 
 the corridor. She could pause to smooth back 
 her hair before taking that swift little rush on 
 tiptoe across the hall. It had come to seem that 
 any definite sound must be heard all over the 
 house, with its echoing galleries and numberless 
 niches. Even the ticking of the hall clock, 
 answered by a muffled tick-tick from the library, 
 jarred upon the nerves when a man like Spartan 
 Loder lay at the threshold of the unknown. 
 
 Down the passage overhead she stole as if not 
 wishing to be heard, opened a door near the end, 
 and went in, turning a key on the inner side. 
 The big four-poster stood in the far corner, all its 
 curtains drawn. She was plucking back the folds 
 to peer inside ; she stepped quickly back as a faint 
 rattle sounded behind. The door handle was 
 slowly turning and re-turning. It was like a mute, 
 imploring question ; and it was answered at once. 
 The door opened ; she stepped out, holding it 
 behind her. 
 
 " Yes, Miss St John ; do you want me? " 
 
 " No no ! " Sheba's low, quivering voice vibrated 
 in the pause. " I watched you, this time. You 
 left him turned this key upon him. You dared! . . . 
 You shall not ! Once again, Sister Judith, I ask 
 you to allow me to enter this room my guardian's 
 room. I demand it, as my woman's right ! "
 
 8 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "Just so ! And I must repeat the one available 
 answer," came the reply, full as quiet, and coldly 
 determined. " Hush ! if you please. It may seem 
 strange to you, but Mr Loder is something more, 
 than your guardian at this critical moment. He is 
 my patient that is, I am responsible to his heir 
 for anything that happens. In the doctor's words, 
 not mine, Mr Loder must not, and shall not, be 
 disturbed without some vital reason. You can 
 give none ! No doubt Doctor Lancing and his 
 patient fully understand each other on the point. 
 You and I are merely two women who " 
 
 " I will not listen ! That is only on the surface, 
 and I can look below. I must see him for myself 
 to-night now ! I will ! even if I am to make 
 enemies in yourself and Doctor Lancing ! " 
 
 So rigidly, wonderfully calm and quiescent until 
 to-night, the white-faced girl repeated it wildly, 
 pantingly, as lump after lump struggled to rise in 
 her throat. All the sensitive nerves were quivering ; 
 all the long-suppressed agony of suspense had 
 surged up in one wave. And Judith Cottrell's 
 steady eyes watched her face as coldly as she 
 might have studied a strange piece of sculpture. 
 
 " Be warned," she whispered. " I have to obey 
 orders ; and you cannot see him yet, most cer- 
 tainly. What is to be done ? " 
 
 Sheba's fingers locked and twisted, as she looked 
 along the silent corridor, in which lights had burned 
 all night for weeks now, and which she had paced 
 in sleepless hours. 
 
 "Oh, for a man's strength, a man's brain, to- 
 night ! " It rose in her throat almost unconsciously. 
 
 "You may have them yet!" came the whisper
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 9 
 
 again, almost maliciously soft. But it went un- 
 heard. 
 
 " The minutes are going going ! All that has 
 been said to him, to sway him, I'm not to know 
 perhaps never shall know ; but I love him, honour 
 him, for all his cold, strange ways. He is more to 
 me than I could ever tell him yes ! " 
 
 " Mr Loder ? Impossible ! " the watching woman 
 breathed. " I have been led to suppose him a con- 
 firmed woman-hater in every sense of the word. 
 My mistake ? " 
 
 " A lie ; a mean, contemptible lie ! " Sheba's 
 voice trembled. " Why has he not once sent for 
 me not once called my name ? Ah ! you can bear 
 mental agony with ease yourself; you told me so 
 once you have passed all thrills long ago. To 
 me, this cruel silence has become worse than his 
 death itself. Let me pass you shall ! " 
 
 " And rouse the house ? Yes ; if you really have 
 a purpose in shortening Mr Loder's last living 
 hours, scream, by all means. Scream! In his 
 condition to-night, I could suggest nothing more 
 dramatically effective." 
 
 The dove-grey figure held its ground. She 
 spoke in a level, passionless voice ; not once had 
 the suggestion of an inward smile left her eyes 
 eyes that in certain moments seemed to emit a 
 flicker of green light. It had been that deadly, 
 calm determination which had given Sister Judith 
 Cottrell her power from the outset. Imperceptibly 
 she had assumed a gaolership of that northern 
 corridor. And it was not yet to slip from her 
 tight hold. Spite of all that day's rumours and 
 whispers, Spartan Loder, the man of mystery, was
 
 io THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 still clinging as tenaciously to life as he had clung 
 to that life's secret. 
 
 " You hear ? " Sister Judith bent closer to whisper. 
 She had seemed to listen intently in the pause. 
 " Scream, and so prove this affection for the man 
 who, as all Felcote knows, lifted you from the 
 depths and made you practically keeper of his 
 keys up till now, at all events ! Who would dare 
 to prophesy beyond to-night! " 
 
 And Sheba's slight figure became still ; that 
 heaving of her breast ceased ; her lips set her 
 woman's endurance was at an end. She pointed. 
 
 " Not you ! How dare you speak of that in 
 that way! I have thought for your comfort in 
 every possible way ; I have treated you as a 
 sympathetic friend even, from the moment you 
 stepped into this house. I could not account for 
 your studied strangeness. If it means that you 
 are scheming in the dark to usurp my position 
 here go ! " 
 
 " Pardon me," came the unmoved reply, " what 
 is Miss Sheba St John's precise position here? 
 Because no one in Felcote seems to grasp it. And 
 Mr Loder's nephew, if alive, might wish to know 
 something deeper ! " 
 
 Still further, incredulously, Sheba drew back 
 from the breath that fanned her cheeks. The 
 words surged up with a rush, but she made her 
 life's effort and kept them back. Spartan Loder, 
 dying in there, should not suspect that her heart 
 was near to breaking that night. 
 X " Enough ! Eloquent silence ! " Still with the 
 maddening, inscrutable smile, Sister Judith glanced 
 back over her shoulder into the wide, dim room,
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD n 
 
 where the lamplight flickered and glistened upon 
 the dark oak panelling. " And now I'll tell you 
 something. Mr Loder is snatching a precious 
 hour of sleep conserving his energies for a 
 possibility so vital to him that he was allowed 
 a drug. One thing more ! Through his doctor, 
 he engaged me expressly for the duties I am now 
 performing. Until the end I remain in complete 
 possession of these rooms ; your authority, or the 
 rest of the household affairs, are nothing to me. 
 Hence, your outbreaks of excitement being as 
 dangerous as dramatic, I am going to close this 
 door and refer you to to Doctor Lancing ! Let 
 him answer ! " 
 
 " Answer ? He shall ! " From head to foot the 
 slight form quivered again, as if fighting back a 
 terrible longing to strike a blow that should end 
 it all on the spot. " He shall ! For some deep 
 reason, you have an understanding with that man. 
 I am to be kept in the background to know nothing 
 of what goes on. And you have succeeded. More ! " 
 The shining eyes struggled against a film of faint- 
 ness. " You hate me ; and perhaps the future will 
 reveal a reason as vile as the fact. You are not 
 the woman I would have chosen to watch over 
 him. That was my place, if any woman's ! and 
 it was taken from me in a way that I never mean 
 to forget ! I may be wrong, but I feel something 
 tells me that I am to hear of his call when it is too 
 late for me to answer ! There is a Law and 
 there is God!" 
 
 And the grey figure bowed without wincing. 
 
 " Exactly. And there is something on Mr 
 Spartan Loder's mind of which you apparently
 
 12 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 know nothing, and which the sacredness of my 
 duty forbids me suggesting. Perhaps you have 
 heard a rumour that he is mad. Believe me, he is 
 perfectly sane. He is straining every nerve and 
 fibre to survive the moment when his nephew, 
 Mr Wilfred Spurr, reaches Felcote if he is ever 
 fated to reach it. In other words, he is living 
 only upon that hope. I " there was the 
 merest suspicion of tremor in her level voice " I 
 do not pretend to read Doctor Lancing's inner 
 mind as clearly as Miss St John may do, but 
 I hold his explicit warning that the slightest un- 
 necessary excitement now may cheat your guardian 
 of the power to set right some great wrong. That 
 ends all." 
 
 " Unnecessary ! " The hot surge of resentment 
 had passed. Suddenly cold, her fingers strained 
 together, Sheba stood to realise that the world 
 outside was already pointing a finger at her that 
 Spartan Loder's impending end left her in the 
 position of an adventuress here. " I may not 
 speak one word, to tell him once how grateful I 
 have been for all ! No, there is another name for 
 this conspiracy ! I know it ; I hear some of the 
 whisperings ; I am not blind ! It is feared I may 
 speak to him of of the money. He knows, and 
 God knows, I have never once given a thought to 
 that. Never ! " 
 
 " Never ? " she whispered slowly. Sheba had 
 come close again, her oval face deadly pale. 
 
 " Sometimes sometimes, Sister Judith, I feel 
 yqu know that Doctor Lancing has twice asked 
 me to become his wife, and that I refused. I 
 distrust him, in the way that a true woman can
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 13 
 
 never explain never tries to realise. And this 
 this is part of his revenge upon me ; he has seen 
 in it the deadliest way to wound and humble me : 
 the revenge of a closed door and mocking silence. 
 And you know it all ! " 
 
 It vibrated along the corridor, and left a strange 
 hush. Both women seemed to be suspending 
 their breath. Then, for once, the ghost of a laugh 
 left Sister Judith's cold lips. 
 
 " If you really mean that," she said, " it might 
 seem worth while endeavouring to win back his 
 heart without delay ! Or, perhaps, you would like 
 me to appeal to his man's feelings on your behalf? " 
 
 Drawn up, motionless, Sheba answered with a 
 look the look that perhaps only a woman could 
 interpret, and that made even Sister Judith flinch. 
 But the triumph, if a triumph had been sought, 
 was hers. She drew calmly back, to close the door 
 and so end it. 
 
 No ! It had all but clicked, when there came 
 from the far corner a sound a dull, thrilling moan, 
 twice repeated that might have been " Sheba ! 
 Sheba ! " And Sheba heard. The voice for which 
 she had listened in agony for days ; the voice that 
 had persistently called to her in her dreams ! 
 The joy, the nameless fear, the vague awe of it, 
 swept her from head to foot gave her the rush 
 of courage for which she had longed. She turned, 
 with a choking little cry. 
 
 " Mr Loder ! I know all I am here ! He 
 wants me his own voice calls me ! " 
 
 There could be nothing so definite as a struggle 
 on that threshold. Sister Judith's arm had shot 
 out like a bar, but it was swept back ; Sheba
 
 14 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 brushed by her with a daring resoluteness and 
 strength that awed herself afterwards. Straight 
 across to the curtained space in the shadowy 
 corner she panted, her muffled sobs dying to a 
 reverent whisper as she bent at last at last ! 
 over the grim, granite-like face, and stared close 
 into its filmed, strange eyes. 
 
 " Mr Loder ! You know me Sheba ? Only 
 speak only tell me there is one last thing I 
 can do to pay for the life I owe you ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "IT'S Sheba!" Deeper yet sank the thrilled 
 voice. " I am here beside you ; I am touching 
 your poor hand ; I want to know ! What is it 
 that they say lies upon your mind ? Only try and 
 tell me, if you feel that another day might dawn 
 too late. Speak ! for the world's tongues to be 
 silenced. Oh, Mr Loder ! " Her trembling hand 
 wavered up to lie upon his forehead. " It's just a 
 word, just your own voice, that I've prayed to 
 hear!" 
 
 And no word came. Only the vague, recurring 
 rattle in his throat, like the distant drain of water 
 down a pebbly beach. He was here yet far away. 
 That glaze over his staring eyes hung like an 
 impenetrable veil between her and his unknown 
 thoughts. And so he might pass away the man 
 who had more than once called her the oasis in his 
 barren career. 
 
 Dumb, chilled as though a cold hand had gripped 
 her heart, Sheba slowly drew back. Her wide 
 eyes looked blankly out through the window, 
 across to where the lights of Felcote twinkled 
 through the warm dusk. What what was 
 happening in all this silence ? The curtains 
 dropped back ; she did not even resist, as she felt 
 herself being drawn away. 
 
 " There ! now can Miss St John believe ? " 
 Sister Judith asked, ever so softly. " That is the 
 
 '5
 
 16 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 beginning and end of your mystery. He wants 
 no one in life except his nephew ; he is dead to 
 all else. Be merciful let him sleep ! " 
 
 " Sleep ? " Sheba whispered, as through a rising 
 mist. " I don't understand. He struggled to 
 speak. It is more like a trance. What medicine 
 have they given him ? Why was it safe to leave 
 him, if only for minutes ? Why drugs, if he suffers 
 no acute pain and struggles only to keep a clear 
 mind? God knows God knows if you have a 
 motive for sealing his lips ! " 
 
 No answer was vouchsafed. She had spoken it 
 half to herself, and Judith Cottrell had bent be- 
 tween the curtains to pass the long white hand 
 soothingly across the patient's face. While Sheba 
 stood rooted, the dreamlike unreality growing 
 with each second, there came up a panting, hic- 
 coughing sound from the drive below, followed by 
 voices in the hall. It brought Sheba back to the 
 living present with a sharp breath-catch. She felt 
 out towards the door ; then, on some unexplained 
 instinct, she had to pause and look back at Sister 
 Judith. Judith's face had whitened ; her nostrils 
 dilated; but her self-possession remained. Calmly, 
 swiftly, she set the bottles in array, and removed 
 a linen apron she was wearing. 
 
 "Yes, here he is!" she said. "Eight o'clock, 
 to the minute ! I forgot ! " She swung round, 
 with the deadly smile. "Shall I speak? Have 
 v you been longing all this time to see Doctor 
 Lancing alone, and force him to speak out what 
 he knows ? Being a man, he could not refuse." 
 
 She knew! For one whirling moment Sheba 
 faced her, half determined to take her at her word
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 17 
 
 to confront Doctor Gilbert Lancing simply in 
 his capacity as a medical man who had charge of 
 Spartan Loder's case. She had taken a step 
 only to waver with a sense of sick helplessness. 
 That smile of Judith's, like winter moonlight over 
 marble, seemed to imply that he was to hear first 
 the words that Sheba had spoken that night 
 words that, coming from the woman he had wanted 
 would deepen his enmity. No ; she would not 
 come face to face with him again she had scorned 
 him in the hearing of another woman. 
 
 There was no time to obey anything but her 
 woman's first warning instinct. She had swayed 
 round and reached the corridor, as if to escape 
 something hateful, almost before she knew it. And 
 simultaneously, in a glow of candlelight, Doctor 
 Gilbert Lancing's glossy silk hat rose above the 
 head of the staircase. Mrs Saxon, carrying the 
 candles, was just behind him, outdistanced by his 
 leaping steps. 
 
 No time to turn back. He had seen her, she 
 knew, as she swerved aside into that next doorway 
 on the right Judith Cottrell's own private room. 
 For Sheba to take fugitive advantage of a door 
 ajar was an unusually weak impulse, and intui- 
 tively he seemed to fathom its meaning. Waving 
 the housekeeper to go on, he leaned back his tall, 
 exquisitely groomed figure, to stare into the ob- 
 scurity. She stood quite still, her heart booming 
 thickly defiantly. He could see nothing, but she 
 could feel the flames of colour run up from her 
 throat as she watched his keen face the face 
 clear-cut and delicate as a woman's, with its fair, 
 sweeping moustache, and the pale blue eyes that
 
 i8 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 always seemed to put a question no true woman 
 cared to meet. It was the expression which re- 
 deemed his face, and redeemed it only too distinctly, 
 from a suggestion of weak effeminacy. Behind the 
 soft, studied languor of the man lay a brain ever 
 silently at work. 
 
 " I hate you ! Oh, I hate you ! " she was whisper- 
 ing unconsciously, her fingers clenched. " Appeal 
 to you as a man no ! A woman's tears your 
 triumph ! " 
 
 What made her say it ? She might never know. 
 Fate had lent Gilbert Lancing the something 
 called magnetic personality subtle fascination 
 that cost him nothing, Carlotta Barrington had 
 named it. People forgot that it was barely five 
 years since he had bought the dwindling practice. 
 Barely forty, he had frozen out two local rivals, 
 made his mark, and was apparently treading a 
 primrose path. Felcote the feminine element, 
 at any rate was at his feet. All the deeper the 
 secret irony of the fact that the one woman in 
 Felcote whom he had set himself to win stood 
 to-night behind an impassable barrier of scorn 
 and silence. 
 
 He moved on ; the door of Mr Loder's room 
 closed. Sheba held her breath until Mrs Saxon 
 had rustled by again, and then, swift as a hunted 
 thing, sped down the rear staircase and gained 
 the dark drawing-room unseen. She could realise 
 Niow that her head was burning, while hands and 
 feet were numbed as with cold. That great sob 
 in her throat would not break ; her breath came 
 in strange, irregular gasps that no one would 
 understand. She wanted to cry out, and could not.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 19 
 
 In that last hour the strain of the whole situa- 
 tion had become like a wire tightened to snapping 
 point. It must break something was to happen ; 
 she was sure of it, as she might never be of any- 
 thing else in life. Were they all attributing her 
 sleepless anxiety to the haunting thought of the 
 money and the afterwards? Impossible! and yet 
 of a sudden the great house seemed to contract 
 and grow suffocatingly small ; the heat of the 
 summer evening was unbearable ; that soft breeze 
 fanning up from seaward had surely died quite 
 away. To escape from the four walls, and stand 
 all alone for an hour! to decide what her first 
 step must be if the end came soon ! 
 
 The horror, the shame, the bitterness of it ! She 
 had long tried to be blind, but the jealousy around 
 her was visible now, peering at her like animals' 
 eyes out of darkness. The servants all save Mrs 
 Saxon kept at a distance, and talked among 
 themselves. Felcote was holding its breath to 
 watch some tragedy unfold. Judith Cottrell, of 
 all women had dared to hint that her power here 
 was a golden illusion, to pass away with Spartan 
 Loder's last breath. To-morrow, perhaps 
 
 She quivered suddenly, snatched up a lace 
 antimacassar glimmering in the darkness, and 
 caught at the balcony door. She listened, as she 
 had never listened yet. 
 
 " Miss St John ! . . . Where are you ? I want 
 to speak with you ! " 
 
 His voice! Quiet, musical, but with almost a 
 commanding note, it came across from the stair- 
 case. She could picture him leaning over the 
 balustrade, one shapely hand at his chin. He
 
 20 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 always seemed to know to read through darkness 
 and the dress-folds that trembled over her breast ! 
 Answer him ? It might be that he had a message 
 from Mr Loder's lips it might be that he had 
 suddenly seen his opportunity to play upon her 
 woman's hopes and fears. 
 
 " Miss St John ! " it came. " Are you there ? " 
 
 " No no ! " her heart longed to send back ; but 
 her teeth were tightly set, and then she seemed 
 suddenly to stand upon the brink of a chasm, with 
 no alternative but to leap. 
 
 He had taken a bound down the remaining 
 stairs, and was striding across the hall. Thrilled 
 by impalpable fear, she crashed the glass door 
 behind her, and was down the steps, fleeing across 
 the gravel sweep, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. 
 
 It seemed only an instant before she found her- 
 self at the main gates, staring at the crowd still 
 waiting there for the news of life or death. A 
 brief, strange pause ; they were drawing back, as 
 she was doing. To them, at such a moment, with 
 her unseeing eyes and pale face, she had the look 
 of a spirit. And then, before she had realised, a 
 throat was cleared, and a voice Anthony Lee's 
 rough voice called out huskily : 
 
 " It's all right ! God bless you, Miss Sheba 
 take heart ! " 
 
 She tried to answer. They would never forget 
 >her eyes at that moment, but no words would 
 sound. The fear behind loomed above all. She 
 was gone again was flying breathlessly down one 
 of the side paths that would bring her out farther 
 down the Felcote road. A bramble caught in 
 her hair and tore away a thick strand ; but she
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 21 
 
 scarcely felt the pain. To escape him ! to be 
 alone with her woman's heart for a while ! 
 
 The road was reached. She walked rapidly on, 
 hiding her face in the wrap when anyone passed, 
 turning aside in a lane as carriage lights and a 
 rich laugh behind told her that Carlotta Barrington 
 was driving back into Felcote. Felcote ? She sud- 
 denly remembered : Gilbert Lancing's car might 
 presently come thundering by on the return 
 journey. Without a second thought she swerved 
 down the loose, shingle-cart track that sloped 
 toward cliffs and sea. 
 
 Now, at least, she felt free of the danger-zone. 
 On either side the gorse heath stretched away 
 with its scent of almonds and its clumps of gold 
 blossom glimmering in the half light, and, only a 
 good stone's-throw farther on, lay the edge of the 
 great, restful, eternal sea itself. 
 
 Felcote town proper was actually within two 
 miles of the sea, but had never seemed to grasp 
 the fact, and its possibilities. There was no coast- 
 guard station, no roadway cut direct to the cove ; 
 and it was comparatively seldom that anyone 
 came this way after dark. Sheba gave that no 
 thought. Now she had passed breathlessly under 
 the grotto-like arch of the Gap a mere fissure in 
 the high cliff wall and was standing on the strip 
 of velvety-soft sand, drinking in the puffs of spray- 
 scented wind that rose as if to greet her. 
 
 The wonder, the beauty, the indescribable peace 
 of it, she had never realised until to-night. White 
 almost as snow the sand looked in a sudden 
 flood of moonlight, that threw fantastic shadows 
 behind every rock boulder; and far down it
 
 22 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 crawled a foam-tipped lip that marked the turn 
 of the slack tide. Across the ebon-black water, 
 stretching away as into eternity, lay countless 
 paths of silver sequins, now fading, now reappear- 
 ing. It was all solemn, haunting, soothing beyond 
 words. Surely she might forget for a moment 
 the fateful something beating away like a muffled 
 drum at the heart of the great silence ! 
 
 How long she stood motionless there she would 
 never know. It was when she turned mechanically 
 to go back that her ears caught that familiar sound 
 hateful to-night the panting of a petrol car. 
 She was in the cliff gap ; she stood still again. 
 And now she could make out the car, with its 
 black and amber tonneau. Yes yes, it had 
 paused in the roadway beyond there ; some figure 
 had leaped down and sprung through the halo 
 cast by the great lamp reflectors. 
 
 Her eyes strained ; every fibre in her body 
 seemed to stiffen. She was trapped. She heard 
 the light, steady crunch on the shingle path, heard 
 the delicate little cough. The man's intuition had 
 served him well to-night. His opportunity had 
 come. The cigarette tip glowed crimson between 
 his lips. He had found out ; he had followed her 
 here. 
 
 Here ! It was as if she had been suddenly shut 
 off from her world the sea behind, and those 
 towering cliffs on either hand. For a moment 
 she stood drawn up, tingling with resentment and 
 scorn, her lips closed upon a word that he should 
 never forget in life. He dared not he dared not 
 use his man's strength to put a woman at bay ! . . . 
 and then on another impulse, no more to be re-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 23 
 
 sisted than analysed, she had taken a little run 
 back to the sandspit, flitted along by the cliff wall, 
 and stood still in a patch of deep shadow. He 
 had not seen her. To balk him to beat him at his 
 own loved game of hide-and-seek to let him go 
 as he had come, unanswered ! 
 
 One two three and he had come striding 
 through the cove. He hummed a tune as care- 
 lessly as if he were entering his own drawing-room. 
 Then, the silence. Feet sank soundlessly into this 
 carpet of sand, but she knew that he had paused 
 just within the cliff-arch, every nerve in his tall, 
 aristocratic figure straining with the eagerness of 
 the hunter nearing his prey. His prey ! That 
 would have been the word in his own mind, but 
 in hers there was nothing but fierce scorn. There 
 could be no reason at all for that dull throbbing of 
 her heart so plain that it seemed almost certain 
 he must hear it! She did not fear him in the 
 least no ! There was a peal of wild laughter 
 gathering in her throat that he would never forget. 
 
 But it died back. He was barring the only way 
 out. He had meant to subdue her, if it lay in 
 man's power ; she knew that by unerring instinct. 
 All else was blotted from her mind. She was a 
 woman at bay.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 
 
 PERHAPS Sheba could have counted fifty, before 
 there came again that significant little cough, as 
 if he wished to prepare her for his step farther. 
 Now she could see him fully. Hands rigid at his 
 side, he was staring keenly into all the dark 
 patches, his blue eyes flickering with the sup- 
 pressed suspense the daring of his own passion 
 where such a woman was concerned. Slowly he 
 drew off one grey kid glove ; two jewelled rings 
 sparkled in the moonlight as he put the shapely 
 hand to his ear, listening. Then it came, with 
 almost an imploring note. 
 
 " Am I mistaken ? Miss St John, you are here!" 
 Her pulse leaped ; her teeth clenched upon a 
 new thought. If she allowed him to ask that 
 more than once, she should never dare to reveal 
 herself voluntarily could never look him in the 
 face again. Did he discover her, her own apparent 
 fear had given the incident a grotesquely false 
 importance. He was looking intently at her veil 
 of shadow. He was bending forward, with parted 
 lips. Just in time, with a great effort, she moved 
 out, took a few steps, and faced him. The very 
 intensity of the effort saved her. Run past him ? 
 never ! One look, one deep breath and she was 
 gloriously cool and collected. It sounded without 
 a tremble. 
 
 " Miss St John is here yes ! And indeed sorry 
 
 24
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 25 
 
 to put Doctor Lancing to the humiliation of fol- 
 lowing her so far to no purpose ! " 
 
 " You scared me, I admit," he whispered with a 
 little laugh, wiping something from his forehead. 
 " I was not quite certain, and to see you step out 
 like the spirit of the rocks ! But you mistake. 
 I suppose a man may have better motives than 
 those usually supposed to sway such a man as you 
 think me, for instance?" 
 
 " I don't think of you in any light. I never 
 intend to ! " she answered, queenly in her still 
 dignity. 
 
 " False ! A woman's white lie ! Sorry ! " he 
 breathed, putting out his hand swiftly, as she 
 moved. " Listen at once ! I left Mr Loder's 
 house to-night simply determined to nail down a 
 what shall I call it? a little unpleasant mis- 
 apprehension that appears to lie between us. I 
 intend to, at once. Oh, you know what I mean, 
 Miss St John ! Your eyes are a mirror to one 
 man, at any rate ! " 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 At first her sole idea had been to escape from 
 the trap without losing a shred of her womanli- 
 ness ; now it had strnck her that, if she could bring 
 herself to hear and answer him, it might suffice 
 for all time. Why not ? why let the shadow of 
 this fear lie upon her another night ? 
 
 " Speak, then ! " she said. " I am not afraid of 
 anything that concerns myself." 
 
 " I will. Your opinion of me has fallen in this 
 hour to zero, I know ; but I do not intend to go 
 on my knees and apologise. It is too late for 
 that. Now my chance has come, I want an answer
 
 26 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 to one question. Just forget all else, if you can. 
 Why, because you would not accept me as a lover, 
 did you cease to trust me as a man ? " 
 
 It came with a challenging, masterful emphasis 
 that seemed to echo along the cliff and come back 
 to her. She scarcely felt his grip upon her wrist. 
 Her mind had been such a whirling chaos lately 
 that she could not use the defensive weapons lent 
 to woman at a crisis. She stood mute, stunned. 
 
 " I mean it, even if I express it with brutal 
 frankness, considering that you and I are alone 
 here ! " he went on, stooping closer yet. " I have 
 my own sensitiveness, although it has stood shocks 
 that should have killed it long ago. I chose this 
 moment, I own, because fate seemed to put it into 
 my hands at the supreme hour because this is 
 between our two selves, and concerns no one else 
 in the world. Either I am a villain in veneer, or 
 I am what I have honestly struggled to be a 
 gentleman, quite worthy of a woman's trust. From 
 to-night, it is for you to decide which I shall be. 
 And there is only one woman breathing upon 
 whom such a decision could rest. Do you 
 realise ? " 
 
 " You you are speaking very strangely, Doctor 
 Lancing," she was able to say. So long as she 
 could keep her figure coldly still, he need not 
 know how the waves of faintness surged beneath 
 her wrapper. She had vaguely recollected that 
 there might be eyes to see, if not ears to hear. 
 And poisonous whispers ran so far and so fast in 
 Felcote ! 
 
 " ' Doctor ! ' " He snapped his teeth upon some 
 deeper word. " Why will you cling to that hollow
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 27 
 
 conventionality? You shall not. I have thrown 
 off that mantle here ; I am face to face with the 
 woman whom I asked to be my wife. Sheba ! " 
 He tried to catch both her hands in a convulsive 
 grip. " I honoured you when I asked that, if you 
 knew it ! There was never another woman whom 
 I wanted for love's pure sake alone for love and 
 for life ! You saw me smile, but I could have 
 killed you that night when you finally turned 
 from me so that no other man should take to 
 his arms what I could not have ! Look into my 
 face tell me ! When and why have I bartered 
 my man's right to your respect ? " 
 
 The words beat hotly against her cheeks. She 
 looked around with a sense of suffocation, as a 
 fresh flood of moonlight wavered past and ran 
 over the water in golden ladders ; but there was 
 no sign of any living creature in the bay. 
 
 " You won't answer ? " he whispered fiercely. 
 " I can make you ; I can pay any price, so long 
 as I know I have made you think of me in the 
 right light. You rouse the devil that lies in every 
 man ; you will not hear ; you are invariably an- 
 tagonistic to me without knowing why. I wanted 
 to speak with you to-night quite courteously 
 I had waited for days past to do so ; and I might 
 as well have tried to grasp a shadow ! I called 
 to you ; I rang for Mrs Saxon ; and no one knew. 
 But it so happens that someone in the road had 
 seen you taking this path. What, in my place, 
 would you have done ? Would you have hesitated 
 to appear in the blackest light, so long as you 
 broke the maddening silence of the woman you 
 hungered for ? Hunger ? That is not the word.
 
 28 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 I ask in you only a little of woman's warmth 
 woman's softness woman's pity ! You have 
 them all, and you seal them in ice that I cannot 
 thaw. There is bound to be an end to this that 
 one of us will regret ! . . . There, no, no ! I have 
 frightened her. Sheba, dear one, let the past be 
 quite forgotten ! Let the living present be our 
 threshold into new life ! To-night I come to you 
 as a man and say will you trust me ? And I 
 have a right to a reply or a reason ! " 
 
 He had drawn stiffly back, his clear-cut face 
 sombre and deadly. It was the knowledge of 
 that very past which fed the flame within him ! 
 Now, if ever, she realised that she must repulse 
 him with a woman's best weapon chilling in- 
 difference even though she were false to her 
 nature. 
 
 " Does Mr Spartan Loder trust you ? " she asked 
 firmly. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he trembled. 
 
 "You have proved to-night that you cannot 
 trust yourself that is what I mean." 
 
 " No ! You are doubting whether all that could 
 be done for him, has been done ! Is that it? is 
 that the misgiving between us? Then, end it. 
 Wire to London to-night, and call in the highest 
 medical authority at my expense. Suspend your 
 judgment on me abide by the developments. 
 I had grave reason to fear this suspicion ; and 
 Others have fathomed it, too. If your doubt of 
 me in that way is sincere, you will not hesitate 
 to act. All I ask is, that the result shall be made 
 public ! " 
 
 " I knew it ! " she whispered. " You have just
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 29 
 
 seen his nurse. It is surprising how much in- 
 formation Sister Judith Cottrell can convey in 
 a given time ! " 
 
 That next pause ! He had lifted his hat, with 
 a mocking smile. Was the tension broken? 
 would he walk away without another word ? Her 
 heart took one more uncertain bound to sink 
 heavily again. With a sinister affectation of 
 familiarity he had struck a match and lit a 
 cigarette. The vesta's brief glow showed the ex- 
 pression of a man who meant to risk something 
 to gain his ends. That cliff wall behind him 
 seemed to be swaying for a fall. Heavens, if the 
 threatening faintness should master her here ! 
 
 " Now ! " he said, quietly. " I think we will leave 
 Miss Cottrell's name quite out of it. What I am 
 asked to face is this. Intentionally or not, you 
 have put a bomb beneath my honour and reputa- 
 tion. Felcote will expect me to account for a 
 distinguished patient's death. Ah ! " 
 
 Her hand had wavered out to him half uncon- 
 sciously. A little moan left her throat. 
 
 "Don't! Don't say that don't tell me there 
 is no hope ! " 
 
 " If anyone but Miss St John asked, I should be 
 bound in truth to say that there is not a grain." 
 
 She swayed a little, beat back his hand, turned 
 away, and fought the last bit of battle. All was 
 changed now she knew the truth. She turned, 
 with the steady little whisper : 
 
 " You'll let me go, please. Let me go to him 
 the man I do honour ! " 
 
 " Wait ! What of the man who must live ? " 
 He had sprung. The cigarette fell ; a trail of
 
 30 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 sparks flew over the sand carpet. He had dared 
 all in one rush of passion had drawn her to him, 
 and was looking down close into the glazed, 
 beautiful eyes. " You shall hear my last word ! 
 I wrong no living person, least of all you, in failing 
 to strangle my hunger for the one woman I could 
 love as a man ought to love ! Yes ; I dare to 
 confront you with that forbidden word once again. 
 I have broken down the barrier it is all or 
 nothing now. Sheba ! Darling darling ! Why 
 do you make me speak as I have spoken to-night? 
 Look up at me ; you must you shall ! A woman's 
 warm beauty is not a thing to be hidden away, and 
 a man's passion cannot be killed in a day. You 
 look more beautiful to-night something to tempt 
 a man to risk all than ever you did. Sheba ! I 
 am not raving ; but I know how soon this precious 
 moment must slip from me. This is your true 
 environment : the constant sea, the eternal silence, 
 and love ! Can I help myself? I offered you 
 all that a man can offer my life's devotion ; and 
 you hurled it back at me. But I was not beaten. 
 I have lived upon the thought that one may love 
 what one has once loathed. Sheba ! Our two 
 lives are in the balances. Decide for the last 
 time!" 
 
 " Let me pass ! " she repeated pantingly. " I 
 have answered you in words that I can never take 
 back. Let me go ! " 
 
 ^ " I cannot ! What have I ever said or done to 
 make you hate me ? It is hate ! It shines in your 
 eyes, it trembles on your lips. It is there now 
 the look that might change the truest man into 
 the worst. And that will happen ! Think again !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 31 
 
 You know at least something that all women do 
 not know : I am not wooing you for money you 
 may be penniless ! There, I have said all that a 
 desperate man could say ; and now what is it to 
 be between us ? There may come a time when 
 you will need the strength of a strong man's arm. 
 You might, if the worst happens, step from your 
 present position into one immeasurably higher ! 
 But you shall speak, I say ! I am not the man to 
 have humbled myself to this degree without some 
 definite hope. Tell me that I have been wrong 
 it was never hate, but womanly hesitation ! " 
 
 She had fought slowly free of his grip. The 
 brown eyes met his own unflinchingly, for the last 
 effort. 
 
 " God keep me from ever answering with a lie to 
 save myself, Mr Lancing ! I have never hesitated. 
 I will never force myself to give back an artificial 
 love to the man who " 
 
 " Silence ! Sheba, be warned ; you don't know 
 what I am capable of. Let the love come ! It 
 will it must afterwards. Think of all there is 
 at stake for you to-night. I can make you queen 
 of a home that no woman would despise. And the 
 love would have crept in before you realised ! " 
 
 " Never ! " A slow shiver ran down the slight 
 figure. The end of her woman's endurance had 
 almost been reached, and it showed in her dilated 
 eyes. 
 
 " You are frightened of me ! You know you 
 have made the mistake of your life ! " he laughed, 
 bending endearingly close. " There, let yourself 
 be a true woman ; let all the load of fear to-night 
 be put upon me. Seal the future kiss me once ! "
 
 32 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 and Sheba's clenched hand was swung desperately 
 against the lips brought so close. She fought back 
 the impulse to cry out something that should be 
 heard on the Felcote road ; her voice thrilled with 
 quietest dignity. 
 
 " I am a woman, Mr Lancing and you are a 
 gentleman, I still wish to believe. Stand aside 
 this moment, please or do not attempt to enter 
 the Manor House once again while I am here ! " 
 
 " My answer ! " He gave her wrist a little wrench, 
 and stepped back mockingly. His hat had fallen ; 
 his fair, close curls were picturesquely disordered 
 in the moonlight. " You realise, of course, pre- 
 cisely what you mean by that threat. The scandal 
 of the fact that Mr Loder's medical man is ordered 
 from the premises, and that Mr Loder may breathe 
 his last a few hours earlier as a consequence." 
 
 " No no ! " she whispered. " You have a duty 
 to perform you will do it. I spoke as as any 
 woman would have spoken. He he need not 
 know what I have to face when he is gone." 
 
 " Very good. I will stand out of your path to- 
 night. But I am in your life for ever and ever ! 
 Heavens ! if you knew what you are leaving as you 
 turn a man scorned by the one woman in this 
 world he would die to make happy. Think ! " 
 
 The thick whisper drove through her brain, to 
 remain there in memory for ever. She did not, 
 x could not, reply, whatever happened of her silence. 
 Her heart throbbing as it might never throb again, 
 a mist seeming to float up from the sand and blur 
 everything, she moved slowly towards the way out 
 that narrow gap in the cliff wall. Now her feet 
 had touched the loose shingle beyond, and she was
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 33 
 
 groping instinctively off at an angle to avoid the 
 car that stood panting in its halo of light She 
 seemed to be climbing out of a dark pit, hands 
 and feet threatening to slip at any moment. 
 
 She had mastered her physical weakness to this 
 supreme point, but if once she heard the quick 
 crunch of his feet on the pebbles behind, she knew 
 that one tragic cry would wake the still evening 
 one cry that might change the course of her 
 destiny. 
 
 But no sound came. He was clever enough, 
 deep enough, to fathom all that hinged upon it 
 to stand quite still and watch her out of sight. 
 The world was between them once again. For the 
 third and last time he had offered her his love 
 and his life, and she had turned from them with 
 a shudder that no man could mistake. She had 
 simply used her woman's right ; there was surely 
 nothing left for him but to keep discreet silence 
 for the sake of his own good name. And yet. . . . 
 
 Was it all real ? She seemed like a phantom, 
 able to move unheard. In dreadful stillness she 
 had mounted the balcony steps, passed the wide 
 hall and the staircase undetected, and was stand- 
 ing still and weak in her own quiet room im- 
 possible as it seemed. When, a little later, she 
 heard " Miss Sheba ! " being called in all directions, 
 and the anxious Mrs Saxon came up in person to 
 know what was wrong, she could reply quite 
 calmly that she was still in her room. All the 
 treacherous trembling had gone that might betray 
 her. Her head ached, she whispered. She knew 
 that Mrs Saxon, at least, would not be set 
 wondering at that fact. Mrs Saxon's silence
 
 34 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 was the silence of a vast, awed sympathy and 
 misgiving. 
 
 All over ! She had done listening at her door. 
 Clearly there had come no fresh call from Spartan 
 Loder's lips he would be still steeped in that 
 halfway lethargy. And now for a terrible stretch 
 of hours she lay staring out at a sky like blue 
 cloth frosted with countless tiny spangles. For, 
 if she allowed her eyes to close once, there flashed 
 across the blank a picture a moonlit strip of 
 deserted sand, with Gilbert Lancing's sinister figure 
 barring her one way back to the road. His wife 
 or nothing ! 
 
 No, no, she would not hate him for his passion 
 God keep her from that ! But she was a woman, 
 with all a woman's thoughts. And, unless some- 
 thing intervened, she knew that she stood that 
 night like one blindfolded upon the brink of a 
 precipice a woman fearing to take one step.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " DON'T start, Miss Sheba ! nothing has happened 
 yet. Why are you in the dark ? The rector called, 
 and two gentlemen from Barrowdene ; and Car- 
 lotta Barrington sent up a note from the gates. 
 I got rid of them all quietly, without troubling 
 you. But life is life, you must remember. And 
 so dinner is laid, and has been waiting nearly half- 
 an-hour. Come ! " 
 
 " Laid ! For whom ? where ? But I implored 
 them not to think of it. I sent down a note by 
 Sophie ! " 
 
 " Exactly ; and I took it from her hand and tore 
 it up. Come now, dearie ! Poor cook is fuming ; 
 we must not discourage her too much. I want to 
 keep everything working in Mr Loder's clockwork 
 way, or the servants will get out of hand, with all 
 these wretched whispers of an entire change to 
 take place. Dinner is waiting ! No use ; you 
 must rise to the occasion that white face in itself 
 is nature's warning. You may need all your 
 strength yet ! " 
 
 Mrs Saxon's cheerfully determined voice trailed 
 off a little huskily. At that moment, as her candle- 
 light shone unexpectedly in, and Spartan Loder's 
 ward swayed up from some obscure corner of the 
 drawing-room, the deep brown eyes looked unnerv- 
 ingly wide and shining for the oval face set upon 
 so slender a throat. Tears, as Doctor Lancing had 
 
 35
 
 36 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 just whispered to the housekeeper, are like a fever 
 perilous when suppressed. 
 
 " Yes yes ! " came the breathless reply. " Tell 
 cook tell them all I'm sorry it should happen 
 again, but I wanted nothing to-night. If if I 
 could only act one thing and feel another! I 
 might be happier all through life. But I cannot ! 
 Let me alone ! , It won't be for long not much 
 longer ! " 
 
 And Mrs Saxon closed the door tightly, as the 
 muffled sobs grew higher. It was a time to be 
 severe. 
 
 "Miss Sheba, what are you saying? Things 
 cannot go on in this strange way. One more day 
 has gone, you see ; I have not abandoned the last 
 hope yet. You stare? My dear young lady, if 
 my fifteen years' close experience here counts for 
 anything, and there is one man on earth to cheat 
 his doctors and astound us all, it is Mr Spartan 
 Loder. Look at Miss Cottrell ! she takes her 
 food calmly up there in the very room. There, 
 no you are not going back to your bedroom. I 
 insist! The dinner looks a picture. Follow me 
 in let me lift just two covers ! " 
 
 Sheba took two dozen steps, only to pause again, 
 the hand to her forehead. 
 
 " I know I understand," came her dull voice. 
 " You are kind and thoughtful ; it is wicked of me 
 to seem so cold and strange ; but I could not 
 not to-night ! The food seems to choke me. Oh, 
 think ! To sit in that great room by myself, 
 knowing that in the same house " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! I have just thought something 
 you need not!" Mrs Saxon glanced out into
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 37 
 
 the hall, and leaned in again to whisper. " After 
 all, it is the merest courtesy in the circumstances, 
 and Mr Loder himself could hardly object, even 
 if he knew. Why not let me ask Doctor Lancing 
 to stay for dinner ? But why not, dearie ? " 
 
 Sheba had drawn in her breath sharply, and set 
 her teeth as upon a cry. 
 
 " He is not here," she could whisper at last. " I 
 I was told he had gone." 
 
 " He came back. Yes, there's the car waiting 
 in the drive. Sister Judith sent after him to ask 
 I believe about the medicine. He hurried up 
 again, and I left them talking outside the room. 
 Believe me, Miss Sheba Hark ! here he comes." 
 
 She vanished. She was painfully particular on 
 the point of ushering in and bowing out Doctor 
 Lancing with all the stately deference due to the 
 man whose quick white fingers and smiling confi- 
 dence suggested power to prolong the master's life. 
 For all save Sheba, he seemed to move ever in an 
 atmosphere of indescribable glamour and fascina- 
 tion. For all save Sheba ! 
 
 She made her mental struggle, as his calm voice 
 came through from the hall. Twenty-four hours 
 had dragged by since she had heard it last, and its 
 note was different now ; she still tried to believe 
 that she had lived through that nameless ordeal 
 in a dream. What was he saying ? 
 
 "Don't hurry don't alarm her, Mrs Saxon! 
 Just say that I deem it my duty to speak with 
 her at once if that be possible." And the un- 
 conscious housekeeper gasped. 
 
 " Possible ? Certainly ; why not ? Miss Sheba ! " 
 
 She had drummed at that door. There was no
 
 38 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 way of escape even if she could have taken 
 it. She stood perfectly still, looking past him, 
 as Mrs Saxon set the gas flaring its light upon 
 her rigid face. Mrs Saxon looked at them both, 
 and then, as the pause held, softly withdrew. 
 Hat and gloves in hand, he had stood as motion- 
 less and grave as if there were a secret to be im- 
 parted. 
 
 Sheba's resolutely quiet voice cut the silence 
 first. She refused to whisper. It was not true 
 not true that this man had ever held her tightly to 
 his breast and stared down into the windows of 
 her woman's soul ! No man would have dared it, 
 and then faced her to-night in this way ! 
 
 "You come to prepare me? to say that the 
 end is in sight ? " 
 
 " No ! I am puzzled. I ask Miss St John to 
 believe me when I say that I was never confronted 
 with a more mysterious illness or, perhaps I 
 should say, a more mysterious man. No ; the 
 scales still seem to swing much as they did 
 yesterday. He has thought, he has moved, he 
 has spoken. But it is not precisely that." 
 
 The shapely finger-tips moved link by link 
 along his chain. He was watching her, as some- 
 thing he had never met before and might never 
 meet again. Half spellbound by the proximity, 
 spite of her inner dull contempt for herself, she 
 had to look fixedly back at the handsome face 
 with its cameo-like clearness, its sweep of fair 
 moustache, its cold blue eyes. Why had he come 
 back ? Was he daring to tell himself that time 
 must bury the dramatic effect of yesterday's fight 
 for her heart ? He felt safe, maybe. No one in
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 39 
 
 the world knew no one but himself. No one 
 would believe it ! 
 
 His voice, courteously arresting, came across 
 again. 
 
 " It is this. This unknown trouble that holds 
 Mr Loder completely in its grip has partly 
 nullified all my efforts from the beginning. Yet, 
 on the other hand, I am convinced beyond all 
 doubt that he will sink away, so to speak, from 
 the very moment when that tense anxiety is 
 removed. What ought to be done? The case 
 has a psychological side, quite apart from the 
 medical. He is powerless, dependent upon a 
 freak of fate. I come to you I must come to 
 you ! I may not be here. Should this nephew, 
 this Wilfred Spurr, whose name has moaned 
 incessantly on his lips from the moment " 
 
 Once more the hypnotic pause. His eyes tried 
 hard to meet and draw hers to himself; but she 
 looked resolutely at the swaying window curtains, 
 and waited as if unconscious of undercurrents. 
 He glanced back to make certain the door was 
 closed, before he took a step nearer and went on 
 quickly. 
 
 " May I ask something ? You are the one 
 person we know of, I presume, who has some 
 idea of the nature of Mr Loder's dying anxiety ? " 
 
 "None!" It left her lips unbidden, before she 
 could think. She had seemed to be listening to 
 some sound other than his voice. " None ! " And 
 he drew incredulously back. 
 
 " None ? Then the thing becomes infinitely 
 more delicate. I meant to suggest that, if money 
 were spent immediately, it ought to be possible to
 
 40 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 reach his nephew in some way. I trust I am not 
 rude, but North America is not such a vast place 
 when the cables and newspapers can be set to 
 work at an hour's notice; and I hear that Mr 
 Loder's nephew is known to be in that region. It 
 is our solemn duty I mean, yours to do some- 
 thing, even though he arrive too late ? A thousand 
 pounds spent to-morrow for a blazing advertise- 
 ment in all the leading North American papers ! 
 I believe he would order it this moment, if his 
 mind could allow. I do ! " 
 
 And Sheba turned slowly to answer the challenge. 
 She made no attempt to do more to fathom the 
 motive. 
 
 " I do not. I happen to know that a series of 
 such advertisements has failed to bring any news, 
 and that his lawyers are working night and day. 
 I cannot sign Mr Loder's cheques. You speak of 
 a thousand pounds : I believe he has already sunk 
 ten times that amount in the endeavour." 
 
 " For what for what earthly reason ? " He had 
 to gasp it. 
 
 "That," she whispered, "lies between himself 
 and his God alone." 
 
 "Then, nothing can be done ? I spoke, because 
 it has become terrible, haunting, to see a man 
 lying in that dumb agony, clinging desperately to 
 some object which appears only too definite to 
 himself and shadowy to all those around him ! " 
 k It sounded like a veiled sneer. He was going. 
 At the door he turned abruptly, his teeth shown by 
 a half-smile. 
 
 " I had almost forgotten. I gather from Miss 
 Cottrell that you considered yourself unreasonably
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 41 
 
 shut out from your guardian's apartments. That 
 cannot be shall not be. Against my own pro- 
 fessional instincts, I have left her instructions that 
 Miss St John is to see him at any moment she 
 wishes, and as often as she wishes now, in the 
 night, at any time left of his life." 
 
 The smile, the bow, and he was gone. She 
 heard the hall door close, and the Panhard panting 
 away in distance ; but for minutes longer she stood 
 on in dazed incredulity, so deep that it seemed 
 like stupor left by a drug. Then, scarcely realising 
 it, she was going up the stairs and along that 
 northern corridor. At any moment, now or to- 
 morrow ! in one soft breath the shameful bar was 
 broken down ! Thrilled by gratitude, and yet 
 chilled by some misgiving, she tapped at that 
 door and stole through without waiting for an 
 answer. 
 
 Could it be true? With clasped hands just 
 inside, as if she had known and waited, stood the 
 grey, erect figure of Sister Judith, the tireless and 
 tranquil woman who never seemed to need more 
 than a snatch of sleep, and gloried silently in her 
 own bewildering sacrifice of self. One look, and 
 she was drawing aside without a word. In an 
 instant more Sheba was bending in breathless 
 awe and question over. the grimly yellow face of 
 the man lying within a shroud of mystery. 
 
 And now? Judith Cottrell had followed her, 
 and stood just behind, hands still folded, the set 
 of her thin lips eloquent of " We shall see ! " 
 
 Had the dying man gone beyond speech? was 
 that why the bar had been taken down to-night? 
 Ominously still he lay, the film thicker over his
 
 42 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 half-closed eyes, one hand twitching at regular 
 intervals along the coverlet. Above the muffled 
 ticking of a clock near by his breathing was to be 
 heard breathing like the faint drain of wavelets 
 down some far pebble beach. Not a sound had 
 Sheba dared to risk till, with frightening sudden- 
 ness, something rattled in his throat. 
 
 " Who who's standing there ? " 
 
 "Mr Loder! You know her Sheba? Oh, 
 surely ! " 
 
 " Closer ! I can't see ; sight leaving me now. 
 It's not it's not my little one ? " 
 
 " Yours yes, yes ! Feel my hand ; there, now 
 you can be sure. Oh, if you knew how I have 
 longed for this moment ! I came last night, 
 but you did not know me. Without you all life 
 is so strange and silent ! Some little thing I can 
 do for you there must be ! Anything, anything, 
 that a woman could do to make you happy ! I'm 
 so close I can hear a whisper ! " 
 
 Oblivious of the steady, fathomless eyes that 
 looked on, she had stooped until her fast-coming 
 breath fanned his old face the rugged, hard face 
 that to so many had been almost repellent in 
 health. She could see for herself now how deep 
 those furrows had eaten into the ghastly-hued 
 features. She knew how, spite of his hoard and 
 his iron will, he had known no real joy of life and 
 looked for none. With the sunlight all about him 
 he had walked perpetually in shadow. These 
 later years of his life had been haunted by far-off 
 scenes ineffaceable visions of a past of which 
 Felcote knew nothing. He was paying some 
 great price. In the rector's own sad phrase,
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 43 
 
 Spartan Loder had lived two distinct lives. And 
 the secret of that other one was a secret still. 
 
 They were whispering of it now down there in 
 the servants' hall. In Felcote around away in 
 smoky Barrowdene it was the same. As she 
 stooped there she was ringed about by a zone 
 of suspense and feverish speculation. She could 
 almost seem to hear the suppressed hum of all the 
 voices. 
 
 Spartan Loder had secretly feared to move be- 
 yond sight of his own grounds. Those few walks 
 of his had been mainly restricted to the maze he 
 had constructed, and of which he alone possessed 
 the original plan. The maze might have been the 
 outcome of a mere scientific freak or it might 
 have been thought out and built with a motive. 
 The man had balked all curiosity with his tight- 
 lipped, inscrutable smile. Only Sheba knew this, 
 because she had dared to watch only at rarest 
 intervals he had ventured down that shingle path 
 to the lonely bay. He had stood on the tongue 
 of sand as if transfixed as if he heard voices 
 calling to him across the waste from a land he 
 alone could name. When he turned back, his 
 gold-topped stick had shaken as in a hand sud- 
 denly palsied. But not even to Sheba, in his 
 yielding moments, had he vouchsafed to explain 
 the gaps in that long, strenuous past stretching 
 behind him. 
 
 And now he was dying. Dying ! in this quiet 
 room in the northern corridor, with no real friend 
 near him save herself. If only half that had been 
 whispered was true the London newsboys would 
 be now shouting his name !
 
 44 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 It was the hour to be perfectly calm, like Sister 
 Judith. He had spoken ; he seemed to realise in 
 part ; he was still on this side of the great gulf. 
 Only only Sister Judith's subdued sneer of 
 yesterday had veiled a cold truth. It was not 
 Sheba for whom, day and night, he dully watched 
 and listened. It was for that other man, whom 
 she might never see in the flesh the nephew 
 whose very existence seemed to Felcote and her- 
 self more than half chimerical Wilfred Spurr ! 
 
 Spurr ! Was it all delirium ? What was the 
 truth of her own position here at this moment? 
 Oh, to burst through all the barriers of silence and 
 suspicion that had grown up of late around her ! 
 Oh, to be able, as a true woman, to act \ 
 
 Not to be. His lips had taken the same old 
 grim compression. It was a sign that hers could 
 remain closed, too. He had nothing more in life 
 to say to her ! 
 
 Intensely lovable, fearless, sensitive, it was hard 
 for her to harbour this unspeakable fear of hands 
 and brains at work in the dark. Yet, as she drew 
 slowly back in the thrill of that final disappoint- 
 ment, a question was forming in her throat a 
 question that must be answered now or never. 
 Then she would act. 
 
 She caught her breath. She found herself 
 staring round at space. 
 
 The sensation was more than strange. She 
 had almost felt Sister Judith's breath upon her 
 cheek had kept her face resolutely turned from 
 the cold smile on that watching woman's features. 
 But the nurse was not here. She had slipped 
 away ; and for once had moved without that
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 45 
 
 peculiar rustle of her full skirts, like leaves stirred 
 by a breeze. 
 
 Her opportunity! maybe the last she would 
 have in life. In an instant Sheba had sunk upon 
 her knees between the curtains. Both the gaunt 
 yellow hands were held firmly in her own. 
 
 " Mr Loder ! Look at me look once ! We are 
 alone. Let me have one last word of yours to 
 carry through life. What is it on your mind? 
 Is there no one you wish to see besides your 
 your nephew? Not one in all the world? Oh, 
 if you could only trust your Sheba still ! A word 
 only a word ! " 
 
 No no i Nothing sounded. The heavy grizzled 
 head had turned impotently, wanderingly, on its 
 pillow. 
 
 " Then," she whispered, fighting back her sobs, 
 " you'll let me sing something that you know and 
 once liked. That sweet Christmas carol that you 
 woke me once to come down and hear yes, you ! 
 There were tears in your eyes that night. It had 
 taken you back to days when you were a boy, and 
 could be thrilled by the Christmas carols ! We 
 stood down there on the balcony you and I alone. 
 You did not wish the servants to know. Barrow- 
 dene bells were ringing out. You remember that 
 grand old song?" 
 
 She began in a soft, clear voice. He would re- 
 call it he would turn to look at her those tears 
 might even film again in his old eyes. 
 
 No ! Gradually her voice weakened and failed. 
 He was listening still listening as if ready to 
 fling back the coverlets and sway up with his last 
 shout; but Sheba's voice could not reach him.
 
 46 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 His hands twitched away. It was all over she 
 could bear it no longer. After all, she had no real 
 call upon Spartan Loder's last thoughts. Not the 
 faintest! She could hear Carlotta Harrington's 
 silver laugh peal out at the bare suggestion 
 to-night. 
 
 " Then, good-night ! " she breathed. " Not good- 
 bye only good-night. Remember, if you want 
 me!" 
 
 She had turned. She had to look once again. 
 Were his lips moving? Bending incredulously, 
 she caught a few faint, gasping words words she 
 was never to forget. 
 
 "Make make haste, Wilfred. . . . Sands run- 
 ning out, boy! To-night or never no longer! 
 . . . Pay price for all. . . . You little dream. . . . 
 Heaven help us all ! " 
 
 She could not move. It set her heart throbbing 
 in sick, heavy beats. Second only to fear was her 
 yearning desire to help him in time. 
 
 " Heaven will ! Don't worry ! He will be here 
 yet, in time to know all something tells me ! He 
 shall hear of it the moment he sets foot in Felcote. 
 Trust Sheba there ! " 
 
 And that one hushed word struck a chord. His 
 hand was groping out for her. His voice strained. 
 
 " Sheba ! Where is she ? I said it ; I meant it 
 no other way! It's there, in black and white, 
 that no man can set aside. Make haste, Wilfred ! 
 ^Make haste, if you want your wife ! " 
 
 Wife ! For the instant it was as if lightning had 
 forked down and laid bare the confused labyrinths 
 of his brain. For the instant she could not bring 
 herself to touch him again. A wife ! The syllable
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 47 
 
 had left his lips as if it were the key to all the 
 mystery. Wilfred and a wife ? 
 
 Then then he had some hold upon his nephew ; 
 had dared him to wed the woman of his choice ; 
 had perhaps stood grimly between them all these 
 years ; and now hungered to withdraw the ban ere 
 it was too late. Or else or else it meant that 
 this Wilfred Spurr could not marry without the 
 money which his uncle in England alone could 
 give him. Who was the woman ? Might she be 
 on her way to Felcote, too ? Might she, in a few 
 weeks more, be mistress here! 
 
 She looked round instinctively to know if it had 
 been overheard if Sister Judith Cottrell had stolen 
 back just in time. No ! And the momentary 
 flash of illumination had faded out. It was all a 
 misty, inexplicable blank again. She had listened 
 to some delirious fragment ! 
 
 And next 
 
 Days afterwards, she could dimly recollect 
 nerving herself to smooth his damp forehead and 
 adjust the pillows. And then she had that sudden 
 awe of the silence and the big old-fashioned room, 
 every oaken panel of which seemed to reflect and 
 distort her shadow. What was happening ? Was 
 the lamp quite safe ? Would he wish its light to 
 fall at that angle across his face ? With trembling 
 hands she moved it back a little, drew the curtains, 
 and now was closing the door softly. It seemed 
 hard and unnatural to leave him to that stark 
 loneliness even for a minute now. When might 
 Doctor Lancing return ? Where could Judith 
 Cottrell be ? Possibly in the next room the room 
 that had been prepared for her private convenience,
 
 48 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 but which she had seldom used. Or, perhaps, she 
 had taken the chance for her daily spell of fresh 
 air in the quiet drive below. 
 
 Sheba felt sure of nothing to-night. She had 
 paused in the corridor, a hand pressed hard to her 
 temples. She must let some of this pallor fade 
 out of her face. " To-night or never ! " the 
 pregnant words rang through her brain. Had he 
 meant that ? was it given to him to know ? To- 
 morrow ! The word had an awful, hollow sound, 
 as she repeated it to herself. 
 
 " Oh, for one friend ! " she said, over and over. 
 " Oh, if his nephew would only come, for this 
 suspense to break ! " 
 
 It was just as she had reached the stair-head. 
 As if in direct answer, there came that never- 
 forgotten noise of hoofs and wheels on the gravel 
 path out there. Some vehicle pulled up sharply, 
 seemed to wait barely a moment, and then was 
 rattling slowly away again. Simultaneously the 
 wire running round the galleried hall creaked and 
 strained. The house bell pealed again and again, 
 as if the visitor were wrenching away in a fever of 
 impatience. 
 
 Not the doctor! He had discarded carriage 
 wheels for the elegant Panhard car long since 
 and Doctor Gilbert Lancing's delicate fingers 
 would never ring in that way if life itself depended 
 upon the sound. Spurr ! Wilfred Spurr, at last ! 
 The dogged London lawyers had triumphed ; 
 those persistent advertisements had reached their 
 goal. In the psychological moment Wilfred Spurr 
 had reached Felcote to learn his fate. She knew 
 it knew it.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 49 
 
 Days later, she could not recollect experiencing 
 the supreme, sweeping thrill which the moment 
 seemed to justify. All seemed deadened. She 
 was only conscious of asking herself one quiet 
 little question. Should she fly back to that room 
 and prepare him for his effort ? or should she wait 
 and make quite sure? 
 
 She stood quite still at the foot of the first flight. 
 She could see nearly the whole length of the hall 
 passage ; she could realise a murmuring and com- 
 motion at the far end. Craning a little, she watched 
 Mrs Saxon wave back the servants and sweep 
 for the door herself in her stateliest manner. 
 Again the bell jangled with unnerving fierce- 
 ness the housekeeper broke into a run. Just 
 as the door - chain clinked, and the scales of 
 chance still swung, something made Sheba glance 
 upward. 
 
 There, craning over the top balustrade, staring 
 intently down past her, was Sister Judith Cottrell. 
 That same instinct had flashed throughout the 
 house like a telepathic telegram. 
 
 The hall door was flung back. The sudden, 
 muffled silence was cut by a husky, anxious voice. 
 
 "Mr Loder!" it panted. "This is it the 
 Manor House? Am I " 
 
 " Indeed, sir, yes ! Then, you are " 
 
 " Spurr ! Wilfred Spurr ! Heavens, why do 
 you all ... you don't say I'm too late 1 " 
 
 The reply was not to come from Spartan Loder's 
 housekeeper. Almost ere anyone could seem to 
 grasp the one vital fact just as Sheba caught her 
 glimpse of a dark, olive-faced man in a soft felt 
 hat and fur-trimmed travelling ulster Sister
 
 50 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Judith Cottrell's calm, penetrating voice had carried 
 down to the hall far below. 
 
 " Is it Mr Wilfred Spurr ? This way this 
 way at once if you hope to see Mr Loder 
 alive!"
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 CLEAR, tranquil, authoritative, that call broke the 
 spell. Wilfred Spurr heard it, leaped for the 
 staircase, and was stumbling feverishly up. Never 
 had a dramatic situation seemed to develop more 
 swiftly. Never to one woman, at least had a 
 living moment seemed less like a fragment of real, 
 everyday life. 
 
 He was here ! 
 
 He had reached that first landing. He swerved 
 uncertainly ; he was staring at a still figure with 
 an oval face and dilated eyes staring as if he 
 had never seen anything more beautiful and 
 statuelike. Must he speak? was hers the voice 
 that had called ? 
 
 He, on his side, was confronting a set-faced 
 woman of whose name and presence here he could 
 scarcely have been aware. And Sheba, her voli- 
 tion numbed, her lips unable to part, stared back 
 at a bearded man of perhaps thirty-five, his dark 
 features rendered more strikingly dark by the 
 upward surge of blood and the tan of a fiercer 
 sunshine than England could ever give. 
 
 It had all happened in a few seconds. Then 
 his hat was lifted abruptly. He cleared his throat 
 to whisper : 
 
 " Pardon my haste ! You are " 
 
 It broke off. With an effort she found her own 
 voice. Speak she must !
 
 52 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "Yes; I am Miss St John." 
 
 She had even tried to smile. He was here ; 
 that was everything for the moment. And she 
 was the last woman on earth to permit herself to 
 dislike a man at first sight for any exterior reason. 
 
 " I am Miss St John. Mr Loder has been 
 
 But you will know all later. You have only just 
 heard?" 
 
 "Only just!" He whispered it thickly again. 
 His eyes veered round for a glance at the rare 
 old carved oak panelling here. "Saw it in a 
 Toronto paper. I have travelled like the wind. 
 I was stupefied. Mr Loder, you know, had dis- 
 owned us completely. It was a struggle to span 
 the gulf even at such a crisis, considering " 
 
 " I understand ! " Her hand went out on an 
 impulse, as he paused to wipe something from 
 his forehead. He was dreading the very ordeal 
 that might mean so much to him ! " You won't 
 speak to him of that you dare not not to- 
 night ! " she said. " Whatever the past, he has 
 suffered. He has moaned incessantly for you 
 would see no one else at all. Remember that ! 
 Go ! go to him at once. This way ! Tell me 
 afterwards, if you wish ! " 
 
 Yes, he had hurried. Suspense had left damp 
 and clammy the hand that gripped hers convul- 
 sively for that moment. He stumbled on up the 
 x stairs. No need to follow. Sister Judith stood 
 waiting a little way down the corridor, as if bent 
 upon her duty and nothing else. She beckoned. 
 
 " Just in time ! I must warn you : be very 
 careful, and call me if necessary. I shall be close 
 at hand."
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 53 
 
 She held back the door. It was only in human 
 nature, perhaps, that Wilfred Spurr should pause 
 as in a sort of awe for a moment, staring around 
 the room a typical, old English room, stiff and 
 strange to his eyes. She saw his jaws set hard, 
 as upon an impulse to turn back even now. Then, 
 like a man going to meet some unknown fate, 
 he drew a breath, and strode across to the bed 
 in the corner. 
 
 He drew back the curtains. He looked and 
 looked. It was a full minute before his husky 
 voice would sound. 
 
 " Mr Loder ! Uncle ! You wanted me, and 
 I'm here. What is it you have to say to me ? . . . 
 You know me or forget me? I have been to 
 Mr Crewe, your solicitor, in Old Broad Street, 
 and he sent me on here. Remember Toronto ? 
 I was there ; I had never left it. I have come 
 thousands of miles for this moment ! " 
 
 Staring down, he held his breath. Too late? 
 He shook with the thought. And then then, 
 with an effort that seemed almost superhuman, 
 Spartan Loder, man of mystery and a double 
 life, was lifting himself upon one arm, and shading 
 his eyes almost steadily to believe. 
 
 " Wilfred ! " rattled in his throat. " You're here ? 
 Bend closer closer! I wouldn't tell them I'm 
 all but blind. Blind, my boy, as you may be some 
 day ! And so you've seen him ? You know all 
 all except the one thing the old man's secret ! " 
 
 " I know nothing." Spurr sank his voice, half 
 eagerly, half defiantly. " Nothing except that my 
 mother, your own sister, cursed you as she died. 
 She said that you had deliberately, devilishly,
 
 54 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 wrecked the lives of two men. But that's not 
 for me to judge. I am not here to talk, I came 
 to listen. What is it ? " 
 
 Then the pause. Old Loder had sunk back. 
 He made a second mighty effort and failed. 
 Groping for the other's hand, he clutched it, drew 
 him down, and glared so closely with the glazed, 
 yet searching eyes, that Spurr held his breath like 
 a man fascinated, hynotised. Then at last the 
 clutch relaxed. 
 
 " Ah ! she told you that ! And you believed 
 it. It was never the advertisement that brought 
 you here : it was a message from my brain across 
 the seas ! I knew knew you would come to hear 
 it ; and I knew I should live to tell it. Now, 
 listen to " 
 
 " One moment ! " Wiping his lips, Wilfred Spurr 
 faced round. " Nurse, my Uncle Loder would 
 prefer to speak with me quite in private, if you 
 would " 
 
 It trailed off. No one was standing there. In 
 a startled way he tiptoed across, stared both ways 
 along the quiet corridor, turned the key, and crept 
 back across to the window. Fastened ; and that 
 drop of fully thirty feet to the grass lawn made 
 it impossible for anyone below to hear a sound. 
 Still not assured, he went stoopingly round the 
 room and peered into every corner shook every 
 piece of drapery. Then he sprang back to the 
 Bedside. Those twitching yellow fingers were 
 feeling out impotently for him. 
 
 "Here here! Uncle, yes, I am listening! If 
 there is anything heavy on your mind this night, 
 that ought to be told "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 55 
 
 " Ay, there is. Closer ! There is ! a million 
 of money ! More than that far more ! A 
 solid million and an endless silver mine ! Keep 
 still ! " The listening man had thrown back 
 his head with a little incredulous moan. " I 
 mayn't talk long. You should have come sooner. 
 Have cheated doctor all along ; couldn't cheat 
 myself!" came the strained gasps, with madden- 
 ing halts as his breath whistled and failed. " Could 
 tell everything that happened from the first meant 
 to but too late. Sha'n't sha'n't last the night out. 
 Something told me that ! . . . 
 
 " A million of money, all wasted to me all 
 so much iron weight about my neck ! Mind, no 
 one here knows a word. It's for you to take the 
 secret from me, and lock it up, or you stand to 
 lose in a moment all I've treasured for years. For 
 your own sake ! With my money, you take over 
 my risk. Deadly risk ! Maybe a pistol shot, or a 
 stab in the dark only Heaven knows. You'll lie 
 awake o' nights ; you'll see the sword hanging and 
 the hair snapping you may curse the inheritance. 
 If not, promise you'll " 
 
 " I promise I tell you, I promise I swear it ! " 
 the other breathed, his arms drawn up as with a 
 suspense too tense to be endured. " What money ? 
 Where is it ? If you'll only tell me that, and the 
 story afterwards ! " 
 
 And old Loder, glaring at him, palpably stifling 
 an inward agony, poured out the series of gasps. 
 
 " The mine the Nevada Silver Mine ! I dis- 
 covered it, but he was with me your father that 
 was to be ! We kept our silence, saved money, 
 bought the ground, and registered the title. We
 
 56 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 dug in it for years, piling up this vast fortune, 
 which I which I transferred from bank to bank 
 in other names without his knowledge. Then 
 then I got rid of your father's interest in the mine 
 by a trick, and promised to pay him yearly sums to 
 keep him quiet. He had married secretly married 
 my only sister mere blue-eyed baby ! I never 
 forgave her. . . . Listen ! I never kept my com- 
 pact with him, and have paid the price ever since : 
 my haunted, ghost-ridden life here, shut out from 
 society, fingers pointed at me wherever I go, faces 
 watching to find out my secret ! Listen ! I took 
 fear, and shut down the mine indefinitely, and came 
 away secretly to England with the deeds. Those 
 deeds prove everything : our legal right to work 
 the property, and to vast proceeds accumulated 
 in banks over there. He couldn't claim the mine 
 knew nothing of where the money was de- 
 posited. The deeds ! I have them safe safe 
 where no one but you can find them ; but never 
 dared stir to use them. The fear had become my 
 shadow moved at my shoulder day and night. 
 I'm known in London and New York ; I'm watched 
 for in both worlds ! My own lawyer in London 
 has only seen me twice think of that ! But 
 you you can win back all, if you're careful if 
 you don't fear the hanging sword. You hear me ? " 
 
 " Every word every syllable ! Wait a second ! " 
 As if still unable to believe himself the sole 
 participant in those tremendous revelations, he 
 turned his damp face once more to stare into all 
 the shadowy recesses. " Yes yes ! Go on ! " 
 
 " Even my lawyer doesn't know this. Don't 
 trust him now. Lawyers are held by the strongest
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 57 
 
 parties can be bought body and soul by actual 
 holders of those deeds. Possession ten-tenths of the 
 law with them, everywhere ! There's your danger. 
 I haven't told you all ! We we had a partner 
 at the outset a man too dangerous to trick or 
 offend ; and the title-deeds stood in three names till, 
 as you hear, I got rid of your mother's husband. 
 
 Two left ! That other man's name was Manisty 
 Seth Manisty ! never forget it ! I bought him 
 out at an honest, enormous price, but he was a 
 spendthrift a gambler going to live on his 
 knowledge. He heard of fresh developments at 
 the mine, and crept back there, with his son, to 
 blackmail me. It was then I burned the gear, 
 closed down the mine, and got away ; he had 
 sworn to knife me. I'm here, safe ; they can 
 never reach me in time now. But they are hunting 
 me still ; they mean to trace those deeds. With- 
 out them, they are powerless no time to explain 
 more ! In a few years, mine and money escape 
 them go into the Intestate Courts over there! 
 D'ye see ? I never troubled to remove his name 
 and partnership from the papers. Let them obtain 
 the deeds and prove me legally dead, and they 
 take all all ! To do that they had to encompass 
 my death ! Ah ! it's all silence ; it all sounds safe 
 to you ; they have pretended to be gone baffled 
 dead ! Don't trust appearances a moment ! 
 They are drawing the net nearer and nearer ; 
 working in the dark villains blacker than ever 
 I was ! Give them one clue, and they will ruin 
 you kill you. Wilfred, once put your hands on 
 the deeds and the papers which tell you all I have 
 not told, you'll never never "
 
 58 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " No no ! I swear faithfully to all you ask of 
 me ! The deeds tell me, or it will be too late ! " 
 
 " Ay, boy ! Give me time for breath. Where's 
 your hand ? Must you tremble so ? ... My will 
 is there with the deeds : all in one sealed package. 
 Hide it ; do nothing until you see your way clear. 
 Your only plan, should you fear for your life, is 
 to compound with those men Manisty, father and 
 son. Advertise in every 'personal' column. Make 
 them an offer, if they will wait ; and keep your 
 word. But don't trust them with the papers a 
 moment. They they'll risk the rest. I've seen 
 their faces peering at me, it seemed, round the 
 cliff from behind bushes. I've seen them in my 
 dreams, creeping nearer nearer nearer ! I've 
 paid the price. It's for you to profit by the warn- 
 ing. Manisty ! the last man left ! " You'll live to 
 know that money money buys everything on 
 God's earth but happiness. What has it bought 
 for me ? This agony death ! " 
 
 He struggled up, a strange, reminiscent horror 
 flickering in his eyes. He was pointing ; pointing 
 slowly along the walls, till Wilfred Spurr, fresh 
 from the sweet summer air into this thick atmos- 
 phere of vain contrition and mouldering treasure, 
 could bear no more. With a movement almost 
 brutal, he caught at the hand and forced it back 
 to a standstill. 
 
 "Stop this stop this, or I'll go! I'll go as I 
 fcame, if you can't trust me. The deeds ! " 
 
 " The deeds yes now ! . . . When when my 
 last breath goes, send for the minister and Doctor 
 Lancing to witness. Go with them alone down 
 into my library. Behind the Dutch clock on the
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 59 
 
 left : there's a hole in the wall. I scooped out the 
 brick, bit by bit, for fear of a noise then I put 
 back the square of panelling. Don't you hurt 
 me, boy! . . . Just behind the pendulum space 
 you'll find it : a flat tin box, wrapped in cloth. 
 Open the clock door, feel for the square hole cut 
 in the woodwork at the back, push at the panel, 
 and you have them. Two papers ! One tells you 
 where I have placed my will and the deeds the 
 other will take you to them ! " 
 
 " Behind the clock ! Behind the library clock ! " 
 Standing back stiffly, as if in doubt of its reality, 
 Wilfred Spurr repeated the words. " And that is 
 all?" 
 
 " All ! You are the son of your father and my 
 sister. I have left everything to you, as conscience 
 money on one condition ! " 
 
 " And that ? " he breathed, staring into space. 
 
 " One binding condition. I thought it all out. 
 I want you command you to marry that girl, 
 Sheba, and be a man to her ! Keep ever an arm 
 between her and the world. Never forget that I 
 that I owe to Sheba the few gleams of sunlight 
 in my later life. Can't tell all ; but I found her in 
 London there, starving and deserted. I brought 
 her here ; call it my one great action in life call 
 it what you will ! A precious, clinging child, 
 budded now into a dear woman, worth more than 
 all the money ! Don't break her full little heart 
 one sneer would do that, once I'm gone. Don't 
 let her drift back on the world, which brands her 
 'adventuress.' In my will no more breath! 
 you'll find it all written. . . . No no ! Come 
 back not yet! Not till I'm gone. Be a man!
 
 60 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Where's your hand again ? Let me hold it ! 
 Wait ! " His eyes closed. The breath was com- 
 ing more evenly, more faintly, now. His jaws 
 were relaxing. To one who could read signs, 
 those signs were eloquent. 
 
 "You're frightened shaking! All life before 
 you, boy ! You're rich ; and you'll take my girl 
 my Sheba ! Never let her know of my life. 
 You'll love her for herself alone I don't fear that. 
 And there's Mrs Saxon, and other faithful creatures 
 whom I must. . . . Yes, in flat tin box you'll 
 find. . . ." 
 
 That was all. The prolonged effort had brought 
 its inevitable reaction. There might be more to 
 tell, but it would remain unspoken for ever. And 
 of a sudden Wilfred Spurr seemed to realise. He 
 twisted his ringers free, and sprang noiselessly 
 back, staring, breathless. 
 
 Not a sound ! Nothing save the rattle of 
 Spartan Loder's chest, like the drain of water 
 down some distant pebble beach. 
 
 The hand of Time seemed to have swung up to 
 call a halt. 
 
 Back silently he moved as far as the dressing- 
 table. He gave one last look at the figure beyond 
 the curtains, as his shaking hand felt for the wick- 
 wheel of the lamp. In his eyes flamed a strange 
 light like the sickly, nameless dread of the 
 gambler throwing down his last stake, 
 x More light? was that all he wished ? If so his 
 fingers played him a trick. The lamplight flickered 
 uncertainly, and then went almost out. Wilfred 
 Spurr's bending shape shot out of sight as swiftly 
 as does a shadow cast upon a bioscopic sheet.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 61 
 
 A silence a complete blank for maybe a score 
 of seconds not more. 
 
 Then the light flared up again. A ghastly grey 
 hue under his olive-dark skin, Spartan Loder's 
 nephew stood and listened, as if that brief blank 
 had struck terror of the unknown to his soul. 
 Still no sound all was as before. He moved to 
 the door, turned the key, and looked out. No 
 one in sight ; and only the faintest hum of voices 
 from somewhere in the depths of the great house. 
 
 Which way must he turn for the main staircase ? 
 There were two one at either end. Yes yes, it 
 was the one to the right. He remembered now. 
 
 Squaring his shoulders, gripping his teeth to- 
 gether as for the supreme finality, he strode along 
 the carpeted corridor and down the staircase.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 UP over the sea and the woods a clear, glorious 
 moon had just swung like a questioning eye. It 
 threw quivering patches of silver lacework across 
 the lawn. It steeped in soft light Sheba's figure, 
 motionless there on the gravel sweep. 
 
 She was waiting ; waiting for something to 
 which she could give no name. She had lost 
 touch with actuality that night. She seemed to 
 be moving in a mist. She knew simply that Mrs 
 Saxon had touched her arm, whispered something 
 anxiously, and pointed to the open hall door. 
 All the world around seemed to be waiting and 
 listening with her. 
 
 Her trembling had passed. She could look 
 calmly all about her anywhere but up at the 
 windows of that northern corridor. She might 
 never see Felcote and the Manor House again 
 just as they looked to-night. Everything that 
 Mr Loder had touched or noticed stood out now 
 with compelling significance. Love ? No no ; 
 not that! Not the love that a man asks of a 
 woman ! 
 
 There was the sun-dial that he had pronounced 
 Thore wonderful and trustworthy than any clock 
 in creation. There was the boxwood border that 
 he had designed a square rampart of dark green 
 studded every here and there with some grotesque 
 protuberance. And away behind, at the end of 
 
 62
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 63 
 
 the lawn, lay the entrance to his privet maze 
 that work of monumental patience and ingenuity 
 which had cost two whole years to construct and 
 four more to mature. Anyone was at liberty now 
 to try the paths, he had said ; but he did not 
 guarantee a safe exit ; and no words from his lips 
 could have been more effective in causing the house- 
 hold to give it a wide berth. To Sheba its mystery 
 had never appealed. She had intuitively divined 
 his real thoughts and that was enough. 
 
 She was moving mechanically down the drive. 
 Someone had lit the red lamps over the lodge 
 gates, and it showed her the now almost inevitable 
 knot of watchers bunched there to speculate in 
 whispers, and await the latest item of news. The 
 dying man's rugged personality had thrown a 
 halo of fascination about him which no ordinary 
 popularity could have won him. Quite possibly, 
 too, the recollection suddenly thrilled through 
 Sheba, news of the latest development had already 
 flown on wings. It had ! Just as she turned, a 
 low basket-chaise had rolled rapidly round the 
 bend. The pony reared ; the crowd melted re- 
 luctantly back. Sheba realised, and shrank ; but 
 it was a moment too late as the owner of that 
 bell-like, delicate voice meant it to be. 
 
 " Blanche, look ! " it rang out through the still- 
 ness. "The coincidence of it when her name 
 was upon our lips ! Miss St John ! Sheba ! 
 Darling, what is it? your face is like marble in 
 this moonlight. We cannot rest all these reports 
 flying about ! " 
 
 " Is that so ? " Sheba said, steadily. That was all. 
 She stood calm, almost cold in her queenliness.
 
 64 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Until just lately the Barringtons of the Hall had 
 driven by in freezing silence. The master of the 
 Manor House himself had returned it with his 
 inscrutable stare ; hence they had perforce to 
 revenge themselves in covert sneers and hints 
 levelled at his ward. And a woman's tongue 
 may cut more deeply than any knife. 
 
 They were strikingly alike, these two sisters 
 both tall, imperious, with red-brown eyes and 
 coiled masses of chestnut hair. But it was Carlotta 
 who had the ready tongue and silver voice, and 
 Blanche who tittered icily at her sister's barbed 
 sallies. It was Carlotta who leaned out with the 
 concentrated, pitying breath. 
 
 " Believe me, dear, you have our utter sympathy 
 this night. Nothing so cruelly unexpected could 
 ever have happened yet ! We have just heard : our 
 groom was at the railway station, and saw him 
 drive up here in the fly at a breakneck gallop. It 
 made me shudder. I detest foreigners of every 
 sort one nearly persuaded me to marry him once. 
 It reads more like the last page of a novel ; the 
 shock must have been ghastly. What can you 
 do ? What do they think will happen ? " A pause. 
 She turned to Blanche with the audible whisper : 
 " She doesn't see my meaning ! " 
 
 " I do not." Sheba's pale lips did not tremble. 
 She did not seem to have heard all. " Of whom 
 are you speaking ? " 
 
 " Sheba, dear ! It is known all over the place by 
 now. We can't help realising on your account ! 
 Whatever can he be like ? Some say he was fate- 
 fully dark and sardonic ; some are saying exactly 
 the reverse. You could not stay in the house?
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 65 
 
 Of course, you will hardly I mean as a self- 
 respecting woman with a reputation to guard above 
 all things, you will not dare to remain there a 
 minute longer than is absolutely necessary. Of 
 course ! " 
 
 And Sheba caught her breath sharply. They 
 watched intently. She would give a moan the 
 unnatural calm would fall away from her ! They 
 saw a faint smile dawn, instead. They mentally 
 set her down as an actress of genius unsuspected 
 until to-night too clever to betray her woman's 
 thoughts. Carlotta could have cut at her with the 
 whip as she stood there so still, and hid the fact 
 with a caressing little laugh. 
 
 " So glad you didn't do anything tragic or pre- 
 cipitate, dear ! We fully expected to hear that 
 you drove away from the place as he entered it. 
 So many women of spirit and pride in your place 
 would feel that fate had dealt them a shameful 
 blow. Just think ! One hour ago, one might say, 
 you had every reasonable expectation of being a 
 rich woman for life. Now, with all due respect for 
 poor Mr Loder's eccentricities, you can scarcely 
 anticipate more than a bequest of a hundred or 
 so can you, dear ? " 
 
 Still no answer. The full, pansy-soft eyes looked 
 past them, seeming to see something in the blue- 
 black haze that no one else could see. Carlotta 
 picked out another venomed arrow from her store. 
 
 " I was half in hopes we might be in time to 
 catch a glimpse of him on your account. I can 
 generally read a man at a glance. Is he really a 
 nephew? You know what the world is ! Is he 
 is he up there with Mr Loder now ? Does Doctor
 
 66 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Lancing know ? To think of his springing to life 
 in the very last hour! Your awkward position 
 this night, too ! In your place, I should feel like 
 refusing to see him. Shall you do that ? What- 
 ever will you answer when he says : ' Well, Miss 
 St John, I'm awfully cut up, but the house must 
 be sold' or something like that? Because he is 
 sure to turn out a melodramatic spendthrift of a 
 man. The Loder blood is in him ! " 
 
 A silence. Then Sheba stirred. " Is that all 
 you came to say ? " she asked, in a quiet little 
 voice. " If so, I'll wish you ' good-night.' " 
 
 The red-brown eyes flamed. For a moment it 
 looked as if the curling whip must swish down. 
 But there were more days more developments 
 better opportunities to dawn yet. Carlotta Bar- 
 rington recollected it. Her pony's back took the 
 cut Rich and bell-like her laugh trilled out, as 
 the low chaise rolled away. 
 
 "Good-night, darling! Good-night and per- 
 haps good-bye, eh ? So sorry ! " 
 
 Sheba moved back slowly down the avenue, 
 scanned the windows, and saw that all seemed 
 tranquil still. Not yet ! 
 
 Someone had fastened the hall door ; but the 
 drawing-room French windows stood ajar. She 
 entered by that way. She had a hazy idea of going 
 straight to her own rooms and putting her boxes 
 in order, so that the hour to come might not find 
 * her unprepared. It faded from her mind at sight 
 of Mrs Saxon's figure standing guard at the door- 
 way opposite. The housekeeper stole in, a finger 
 to her lips. 
 
 " What what " Sheba began in a whisper.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 67 
 
 " Hush, dearie ! I was waiting for you. The 
 gentleman has not come down yet ; there has not 
 been a sound. But Judith Cottrell is there. Now, 
 keep quite calm ! It just struck me that, at such a 
 time, we ought to have sent someone off for Doctor 
 Lancing. He was to call again before ten o'clock ; 
 but certainly, seeing what has happened, he ought 
 to know and to be What was that ? " 
 
 She had heard nothing. It was the queer fact 
 that the hanging light in the hall had suddenly 
 dipped down to a mere glimmer, as if fanned by 
 a puff of wind. Mrs Saxon stared at the darkness 
 a moment, and then swept out to investigate. 
 
 "That is something more than strange," her 
 subdued voice came back to Sheba presently. 
 " This door is not open. It looks it looks as if 
 someone had deliberately turned down the light. 
 Wait a moment ; I'll soon see whether . . . there, 
 I can't tell one way or the other I have been and 
 put it right out ! Matches and tapers where did 
 I leave them ? " 
 
 Sheba scarcely followed the detail. She had 
 sunk down at the table ; her mind would inevitably 
 swing back to the scene at Spartan Loder's bed- 
 side. It might have been one minute or five 
 before the hall resumed its normal glow, and Mrs 
 Saxon's breath beat against her cheek. 
 
 " Miss Sheba, what do you make of it ? I would 
 not cry out, but I feel certain someone stood back 
 in the passage to let me pass. But I know it I 
 flung out my hands and felt something glide away 
 I touched either a coat or a dress. I don't like 
 it I don't understand it ! " she insisted, turning 
 back for the door. " If I knew who had played
 
 68 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 such a prying trick, I would know why ; and I 
 will ! " 
 
 She swerved suddenly back, and caught Sheba's 
 hand, to press it encouragingly. All else was 
 forgotten. 
 
 "Quick, dearie! Here he is, coming down. 
 He looks scared. Oh ! I trust there's nothing that 
 
 we What am I saying ? Be quite brave and 
 
 collected now we shall know all ! " 
 
 Spartan Loder's nephew came hastily down, 
 leaped the last three stairs, and drew up dead, 
 staring through the drawing - room doorway 
 opposite. 
 
 At the table in there he saw a girl sitting motion- 
 less, one hand pressed to the row of pearls at her 
 slim throat, her wide eyes shining out a question 
 to him that her voice could not sound. It was 
 the same slight, delicate figure of a woman that he 
 had passed on the first landing. And Mrs Saxon, 
 stately in her black silks, stood with one hand 
 upon that girl's shoulder as if both simply waited 
 for something that must happen. 
 
 What was it? He did not speak did not 
 attempt another step. There was a strange dila- 
 tion of his eyes that showed the white rim around 
 their pupils and a far stranger suggestion of 
 horror or paralysis in his attitude. Twice his lips 
 parted, but soundlessly. What was it? 
 
 Mrs Saxon hardly knew that she was moving 
 forward. The vaguest instinct made her close the 
 door behind her. 
 
 "Yes?" was all she could say to break that 
 spell. And he gasped something.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 69 
 
 " The the library ! " it sounded like. No one 
 could have been certain. 
 
 " You want me or Miss St John ? " she queried. 
 "You think you think there is no hope of a to- 
 morrow?" she breathed, imploringly, as his face 
 turned from her. " Oh, speak, Mr Spurr ! " 
 
 " I fear there is none," he said, speaking with 
 thick, staccato notes. "Send off for his medical 
 man as soon as soon as I can leave him. For 
 the moment he will let no one disturb him. The 
 the library quick ! Somewhere down here, he 
 said. I I am to take him a paper." 
 
 " Yes, sir yes ! There it is fourth door down 
 there, on the left. One moment ; there is no light. 
 If you " 
 
 " Let me go ! Every moment is precious ! " 
 He had snatched the lit taper from her hands. 
 She could hear the panting of his chest, as if he 
 had run far and fast. " I know I can get all that 
 he wants ! " 
 
 "You don't mean us to think " she began, 
 
 falteringly. His teeth had clicked ; he waved her 
 back almost fiercely. 
 
 " I tell you he is bad you all knew it ! Send 
 for his doctor do anything you think fit See to 
 him never mind me ! " 
 
 He stumbled on down the passage. He had 
 reached that fourth door on the left. And there 
 he paused, as if in physical collapse or as if the 
 brass handle had sent an electric current shudder- 
 ing through him. What was it ? Once more Mrs 
 Saxon turned, as if she had felt the shock, too. 
 His husky, muffled shout was hardly recognisable 
 as the voice of a man.
 
 70 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " It's locked this door's locked, I say ! The 
 key where is it ? For God's sake, answer ! Damn 
 you ! The key the key ! " 
 
 It was never answered. There came a thud of 
 hoofs a rattle of wheels over the gravel sweep 
 outside there. It was just as that voice rose almost 
 to a delirious scream " The key ! Curse you, the 
 key ! " that someone leaped from a vehicle out- 
 side, fumbled for the bell, and pulled it with a 
 force that sent echoes jangling throughout the 
 quiet house. Quiet ? No ; in that next moment 
 the four walls seemed full of confused, chaotic 
 sound. 
 
 " Miss St John ! Miss Sheba ! " the housekeeper's 
 cry suddenly thrilled out. 
 
 As with a prescience she had run to the door and 
 flung it open. A man sprang past her into the 
 hall a man with fine dark, keen eyes, curling 
 beard, an olive-brown complexion, a sombrero-like 
 hat, and a fur-trimmed travelling ulster. 
 
 " Thank God at last ! " he said breathlessly. 
 " I lost my only train drove from the other town. 
 You know me? Ay, I'm ..." 
 
 He paused. She had shivered back from him, 
 dumb, a hand to her eyes. Sheba, at sound of 
 that strong, fearless voice, had stepped slowly out. 
 A crowd of the servants were huddled at the far 
 end of the passage. He stared from one face to 
 Wiother. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter ? You don't mean 
 surely you won't tell me that Mr Loder is gone ! " 
 
 And still they gazed at him as at something 
 risen from the dead. He strode forward to find 
 Mrs Saxon's arm put out like a bar.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 71 
 
 " You are the gentleman ! " She had come to 
 herself. She could whisper it with determined 
 incredulity. "You take that name you? How 
 can that be ? He has been you have been ! It 
 is all over ; he has seen Mr Loder. He he is in 
 the library down there now /" 
 
 " Now ? " Almost a smile passed over the dark 
 face. He tu/ned appealingly to Sheba, as if in- 
 stinctively gauging her position here. " Will you 
 enlighten me ? Who is he ? where is he ? I have 
 but just reached Barrowdene, from Canada, and 
 driven straight here. Ask this man the driver ! " 
 
 She could not move. She heard his voice she 
 saw a flesh-and-blood man but no word would 
 pass the congealed fear in her throat. She had 
 already spoken with this same man on the stairs. 
 She had held his hand. And yet and yet 
 
 Mrs Saxon had turned and was pointing down 
 the passage. It seemed but a tick of the clock 
 that had elapsed, but that other man the man 
 who had been feverishly rattling the door handle 
 was not there. He had vanished. And this one, 
 his physical duplicate in all but the pained voice 
 and expression, stood here as in a dream of 
 amazement. 
 
 Vanished ! With a great effort Mrs Saxon went 
 slowly down the passage, and looked. 
 
 The library door was still locked, and no key 
 was there. But the door next to it that of the 
 dining-room stood wide open. Peering through, 
 she made out the balcony windows beyond swung 
 open to the night. And that was all. 
 
 An indefinable awe trickled along Mrs Saxon's 
 perfect nerves. She caught up her skirt, swept
 
 72 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 back to the hall, and faced the man with shudder- 
 ing challenge. 
 
 " Speak ! End this let us know ! You are the 
 gentleman? Do you tell us, before heaven, you 
 have come to " 
 
 " My dear lady ! " he breathed, in the pause. " I 
 don't understand a word. I know nothing. You 
 do not you surely do not suggest " 
 
 " Hush ! Don't say it ! " She put up her hand, 
 and looked back at that fourth door. " God forgive 
 me, but there's something devilish here something 
 never to be explained. You have been you have 
 had word with Mr Loder and gone again. You 
 took the taper from my own hand. I opened this 
 door to you myself I saw you come down that 
 stair. And Miss Sheba here " 
 
 She could go no further. Words seemed gro- 
 tesque, meaningless. No one had stirred, when 
 the silence was broken by that faint, dull cry from 
 overhead. 
 
 "Quick! quick!" 
 
 Judith Cottrell's voice, from the northern corridor. 
 They were stumbling up. Unbidden, involuntarily, 
 he was following close behind. 
 
 The door of Spartan Loder's room was wide 
 open. The mystery of that life was snatched from 
 the world now. Another, a deeper, mystery had 
 taken its place, and Spartan Loder had gone 
 silently to solve it. 
 
 Sister Judith had been stooping between the 
 cTfctains. She turned a face quite composed, save 
 for a twitching of the lips. 
 
 "Yes, gone," she said, "Quite gone! Where 
 is the doctor ? "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 73 
 
 No one answered. No one could. She went 
 on quietly. 
 
 " They wished to be left to themselves he and 
 the gentleman here, his nephew. I went to my 
 room. I have just come back to find life gone." 
 
 She stepped back, as the man came slowly, 
 dazedly forward. He looked ; he placed one hand 
 reverently upon the dead man's forehead ; he had 
 closed his eyes. There was an unmeasured span 
 of silence. Then he turned to them, with a stern, 
 different voice. 
 
 " He is dead ; but I live. Is there anyone to 
 help me anyone I can send for the police?" 
 
 No reply. He stood looking from face to face. 
 He drew in a sharp breath, and was striding from 
 the room, when that low, piteous cry checked him. 
 
 " Not that not to-night ! Oh, be merciful ! 
 Don't let them come not to-night ! " 
 
 He turned, the quickest to realise, and put out 
 his arms just in time. He looked down into the 
 pale face, with its rigid, unconscious sweetness. 
 He could remember her name, as he lifted her 
 gently into the chair at hand. 
 
 " Miss Sheba has fainted. Stay here with her 
 say nothing to anyone," he whispered to the house- 
 keeper. " Trust me all of you that is all I ask." 
 
 He hurried out. The servants scattered as he 
 leaped down the stairs. He saw no one, and strode 
 across to the hall door. The driver of the four- 
 wheeler, just lighting his pipe, started as his arm 
 was gripped as in a vice. 
 
 " Yes, you ! Answer me : did you see anybody 
 any man running either way as you drew up 
 here ? . . Think hard ! it must have been in
 
 74 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 that very moment. A man something like myself. 
 I'll give you ten pounds to-night if you can lay 
 your hands on him. He can't have gone far. Ten 
 twenty ! " 
 
 And the man simply stared down. He had 
 heard without grasping a syllable ; his eyes showed 
 it. 
 
 With some deep word, almost a groan of help- 
 lessness, the other swung his arm away and sprang 
 out on to the lawn. He stood, eyes and ears 
 strained. Not a sound not the stir of a leaf. 
 The cold moonlight lit up the grounds in almost 
 every direction. To and fro he ran, his feet now 
 clattering over the pebbles, now sinking into the 
 grass. Now he was lost to sight, to reappear 
 presently round the farther wall. He had made a 
 panting circuit of the house and stables ; and per- 
 haps that brief survey had been sufficient to show 
 him that there was nothing to be done in that 
 way. His surge of suppressed excitement had died 
 quite down. 
 
 " My mistake ! " he said, as he took out some 
 coins. " Thanks good-night ! " And the ponder- 
 ing cabman drove away. 
 
 " That warn't drink," he told himself. " If drink 
 'ud do that, this 'un wouldn't touch another drop." 
 
 The hall door had been closed. The new-comer 
 had gone mechanically up the stairs and found 
 his way back to the room in the northern corridor. 
 Hot one of the three women seemed to have moved 
 or breathed. 
 
 He held the door, and faced them. His voice, 
 determined and deep, had a ring that could never 
 be mistaken.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 75 
 
 " I have failed. I can find no one," he said. 
 " I take it that we all wish to face this situation 
 with the calm courage it asks. Let me know at 
 once how I stand. Put it plainly. A man has 
 been here, calling himself by that name, and has 
 taken down the last words from these dead lips ? 
 .... Thank you ! Then, that man, whoever he 
 be, has personated myself with a motive which 
 I make it my life's work to find out. / am Wilfred 
 Spurr!"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 To one woman, at least, the last few hours of that 
 fateful day were as hours lost from her life. 
 
 To stand powerless there and look down at the 
 stony, mask-like face on the pillow, to tell herself 
 that only a hundred brief minutes had ticked by 
 since she had knelt and listened for his voice, to 
 believe that she was merely watching a shape of 
 cold clay no ; it seemed too terrible to be real. 
 
 " He is not dead ! Not dead ! " she kept whisper- 
 ing unconsciously. 
 
 There was a mercy in the curtain of mental 
 mist which seemed to halo everything around her. 
 It left her unable to realise ; it shut off all the 
 vague horror of what lay behind that night's 
 crisis. She knew that the others were glancing 
 at her, and away again, as if there were something 
 in her eyes which they did not wish to read. She 
 knew that her arm had been touched, and that one 
 man had been moved to speak in spite of himself. 
 
 "You'll bear it, Miss St John bear it like a 
 true woman ! " he said, in his quiet, compelling 
 way. "If tears are sent for our good, why, let 
 the tears come ! " 
 
 ^She looked at him piteously, and then shrank. 
 It was the man who had passed her on that stair- 
 case, and had held her hand so convulsively, and 
 yet it was not. The bare, ineffaceable memory 
 of it numbed all thought of tears. 
 
 76
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 77 
 
 And then then she heard another voice cool, 
 measured, tinged with irony. Now she understood 
 why they had all been waiting in silence. She 
 moved instinctively aside, to make way for Doctor 
 Gilbert Lancing. 
 
 " Hold the lamp a little higher, Mrs Saxon, just 
 so ! Yes yes, that will do." 
 
 A moment's cursory examination sufficed him. 
 He had let the curtains fall, and was drawing 
 on his gloves. No one could be surprised, he 
 was saying ; the truth might now as well be told. 
 Spartan Loder had only died as he had lived, 
 an eccentric, self-willed man, who paid cynically 
 for medical advice that he never meant to follow, 
 and had apparently made up his mind to leave 
 the world so soon as he had come face to face 
 with his missing nephew. 
 
 He turned with a bow to Wilfred Spurr. He 
 had heard nothing as yet of that night's deeper 
 drama. 
 
 " While congratulating this gentleman upon his 
 narrow margin, I am bound to tell him that this 
 has been the most singular, most unsatisfactory, 
 case in my experience. Nurse Cottrell, I think, 
 will agree that skill and medicine were useless 
 with a patient of such a temperament!" 
 
 She heard Sister Judith acquiesce in that com- 
 posed, lifeless voice of hers. She looked around 
 at them, her heart swelling with an indignation 
 that could find no expression. All ended ! Yes, 
 Doctor Lancing had buttoned his frock-coat. He 
 had paused to look back at her with a meaning 
 expression, as if he would have said " Remember ! " 
 Behind him, watching her, too, was the calm grey
 
 78 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 figure of Sister Judith. Her role, too, was played 
 and ended now; that curious suggestion of a smile 
 in her eyes could only mean satisfaction in the 
 thought that another woman was in the same 
 position as herself. As Gilbert Lancing stepped 
 out, the grey figure slipped after him into the 
 corridor. 
 
 It had been like watching a play in which she 
 had no part. She was forgotten. She felt that 
 deathly faintness creeping over her again. Just 
 as she turned to grope for the door she was 
 caught back to reality in a strange way. She 
 had heard a quick stumble. She found her cold 
 hands gripped by two powerful, warm ones. 
 
 " One moment. You shrank from me. You 
 shall tell me why. You shall tell me why, or I 
 cannot remain in this house to-night!" 
 
 The thrill of it seemed to sweep her off her 
 feet. She could only look back into the dark, 
 resolute face with dilated eyes that shone like the 
 windows of a firelit room. He had waited this 
 moment ; he had asked Mrs Saxon to slip past ; 
 he would never let her go until she had answered 
 him. Till now he had quite sunk his own crush- 
 ing trouble, standing back in respect for the grief 
 that he could not be expected to share. But now 
 he held her, as if he had divined all, and meant 
 her to realise the nameless difference between his 
 handclasp and the clammy grip of that other 
 Than, the masquerader who had got ahead of him 
 by a margin of minutes. 
 
 " Yes, look at me ! " he whispered. " Read the 
 truth at once, if you can. Let me know what I 
 am in your thoughts. The night cannot pass
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 79 
 
 with that shadow of doubt between us all. I am 
 paralysed I can do nothing until I know. . . . 
 Now ! You trust me ? You, at least, have no 
 further misgiving as to my right to stand here ? " 
 
 " None ! " It left her lips on a sudden impulse 
 that she could never have explained. " None ! " 
 she repeated, almost firmly. " I trust you. I 
 must ! " And the muscular hands tightened upon 
 hers. 
 
 " Thank God ! But for that, I could not have 
 stayed here another moment. You need sleep ; 
 you must have it deep, untroubled sleep ! You 
 give me full permission to act from now as Mr 
 Loder's sole surviving relation? Don't be afraid 
 to think ! If the faintest fear of my bona fides 
 makes you prefer that I bring you the solid 
 proofs " 
 
 " No, no ; I want no more ! " She tried to smile 
 up, but he had felt the little shudder, and could 
 understand. The conviction that he was Spartan 
 Loder's nephew only served to surround that other 
 man's personality with the more abiding horror. 
 " Don't let me think of it yet I mustn't hope to 
 understand it ! Yes, do just as you think wisest 
 for all ; and if I can help you in any way, tell me. 
 For the moment, you are best without me a 
 weak, frightened woman ! Thank heaven thank 
 heaven you are here ! " 
 
 It came with a warning sob. One arm circled 
 protectively about her he drew open the door. 
 Mrs Saxon stood waiting there. 
 
 " Take care of her ! " he whispered. " Has she 
 a maid?" 
 
 " No ; she would never let Mr Loder go to that
 
 80 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 expense for her. But I can look after our Miss 
 Sheba ! You shall hear all the story afterwards, 
 sir. Come, dearie, lean on me ; it's all right ; 
 you've borne as much to-day as could be asked of 
 any woman of twice your strength ! " 
 
 A minute later Sheba had fallen across the bed 
 in her own room. One great tremor ran through 
 her, and then she lay quite still. It looked to be 
 something deeper than sleep. It scared Mrs 
 Saxon, hovering breathlessly over her. She sud- 
 denly hurried out and down the stair. 
 
 At the foot she came face to face with Sister 
 Judith Cottrell. 
 
 " Doctor Lancing ! Quick ! Has he gone ? " 
 And Sister Judith started. 
 
 " For Miss St John ? Ah, she has broken down, 
 has she ? Does she expect me to play the nurse 
 again ? " flashed the strange reply from her lips. 
 
 Mrs Saxon did not catch it. She had caught 
 sight of the doctor's tall shadow wavering out 
 there on the moonlit drive. 
 
 For a breathing space Judith Cottrell's grey 
 eyes watched. Then she was flitting up the stairs 
 and along a branch corridor. Noiselessly she 
 pushed inwards the door of Sheba's room. Now 
 she had glided inside. The barest minute she 
 allowed herself just time enough to crane over 
 the still figure, and to draw back with that sharp 
 hiss of her breath. 
 
 > " Brain ! " Her long, white fingers strained 
 together. "Brain! My God! Is fate at work 
 in this?" 
 
 Doctor Lancing was just springing into his 
 throbbing car as the housekeeper ran forward.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 81 
 
 "Who? Miss St John herself ? Never!" She 
 could not see the look that swept his face as he 
 leaped down. 
 
 A swift nod, an expression of deepest con- 
 cern, and he was hurrying back with her into the 
 house. " I think I know, but I hope I'm mis- 
 taken. I watched her, too. These overstrung 
 temperaments will stand a great deal, but when 
 the strain reaches a certain point they snap 
 like a violin string. Where is she? Don't be 
 alarmed!" 
 
 They paused at the open door. " No ; she has 
 not stirred," Mrs Saxon breathed. He was holding 
 her back. 
 
 " 'Sh ! No need whatever to disturb her. You 
 did the right thing to tell me quietly and at once. 
 Keep still ! " 
 
 He tiptoed across. The prone figure gave no 
 sign. He saw it at a glance : the reaction had 
 numbed her brain and left her as though lulled by 
 the spell of a hypnotist. It was safe to let his 
 hand rest lightly upon the pallid brow to pass 
 it softly downward over her eyes. If she knew ! 
 But she never would. 
 
 It seemed a long time before he tiptoed across 
 again. 
 
 " You must prepare yourself for a little more 
 suspense, Mrs Saxon. Now, just do as I direct 
 you, and all will be well. For the next forty-eight 
 hours, nothing but sleep ! Sleep at any cost ! 
 Let no one see or speak to her. Whatever hap- 
 pens, whatever has to be done, Miss St John is 
 not to leave her room for at least a week. You 
 understand ? "
 
 82 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "A week!" She echoed it, aghast. "But 
 think ! Impossible ! " 
 
 "Then I will not be responsible for her! Mr 
 Loder's nephew is here ; he can do all necessary 
 in fact, I will see him myself, and tell him he 
 must. One week ! If she demurs, and considers 
 herself able to disobey, you may look for a further 
 and more serious collapse. You must exercise 
 a discreet authority. One week ! And after that, 
 a complete change of air, away from all these 
 associations." 
 
 " I'll do my utmost." Mrs Saxon put a hand to 
 her eyes. All the immediate future seemed crimson 
 with foreboding. " In that case, I can only ask 
 Sister Judith " 
 
 " No ! " He took a step nearer the door, and 
 looked out. " No ! " he answered emphatically. 
 " She may be wanted elsewhere at any moment. 
 You can do all that is required, with one of the 
 maids to help. I will send down some soothing 
 draughts early to-morrow. Let me see yes ! 
 Find Sister Judith and ask her to give you no, 
 never mind you will find it easily yourself. In 
 Mr Loder's room a little green phial on the side- 
 board. Bring that, and some water." 
 
 Overwhelmed, she obeyed. For that moment 
 he was left alone with the woman whom he had 
 thrice fought desperately to make his own and 
 ^hrice lost. Hands clenched stiffly at his side, as 
 if to master the impulse to throw them around 
 her, he stooped again. Nearer nearer until 
 his lips could all but brush the bloom of her 
 cheek. 
 
 " I shall win ! " came slowly through his teeth.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 83 
 
 "You hate me now, Sheba you shall weep for 
 me yet ! " 
 
 Mrs Saxon was back. She was not to see that 
 his hands shook for once, as he carefully measured 
 and mixed his draught. He stood back. 
 
 " Lift her head ; get her to take that ! See that 
 she does every drop ! She need not see me need 
 not know what it is. Let her drift off again. . . . 
 You are quite sure ? It will work wonders. Now ! 
 A silk or lace handkerchief and the Eau de 
 Cologne ! " 
 
 Quickly, dexterously, he sprayed the silk square 
 and let it fall over the sweet wan face as lightly as 
 a breath of summer wind. 
 
 A little later, when Mrs Saxon stole in again to 
 make sure, the spell had worked : Sheba slept as 
 deeply, as evenly, as a child. A little break in the 
 series of thrills had come. And now? 
 
 Sheba knew nothing. It was left to Mrs Saxon 
 to act for her. And her first woman's duty was 
 to find Mr Loder's nephew, hear what he had to 
 tell, and then place the keys of the household in 
 his hands. Until that mystery was nailed down 
 all life remained a blank. 
 
 She rustled once more quietly down the staircase. 
 She had never seemed more stately, more conscious 
 that the weight of responsibility rested entirely 
 upon herself for the moment. It was nearly ten 
 o'clock, but time counted for nothing now. She 
 pushed open the drawing-room door then the 
 dining-room. He was not in either apartment. 
 She rang the bell, and questioned the servants ; but 
 they could tell her nothing. Mr Wilfred Spurr was 
 not in the house.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 JUST fifteen minutes earlier, Mr Loder's nephew, 
 pacing the deserted passages, had found himself 
 back in that northern corridor. He turned the 
 handle of a door, went in, and drew back with a 
 sharp breath of realisation. He had made a mis- 
 take. It was not his uncle's room. 
 
 A woman was kneeling there in the corner 
 beside an open trunk. She faced round with a 
 half-stifled little cry, and swayed to her feet. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, most sincerely!" he said. 
 For a moment he thought he had seen a hunted, 
 tigerish expression of resentment in those grey 
 eyes. If so, it had faded swiftly, and left a calm 
 smile. 
 
 " You need not ! " She had moved towards him, 
 a tall, self-possessed figure in grey. A totally 
 different woman from the one they called Miss 
 Sheba a woman who seemed able to search his 
 mind as he stood irresolutely there. " You need 
 not ! I am the nurse Sister Judith Cottrell. I 
 know enough of life to know what you must feel 
 to-night. Any true woman would pity your 
 position, and would wish to help you even if she 
 could not say so." 
 
 "Yes," he whispered, looking away. He re- 
 called her now, as she had stood at Mr Loder's 
 bedside. She was the nurse and yet, somehow, 
 her steady, fathomless eyes had an effect upon him 
 
 84
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 85 
 
 even at such a moment that he could not under- 
 stand. To bow his apology and then turn away 
 seemed easy ; and yet it was hard. 
 
 " Can I help you ? " 
 
 As if determined to say it, she had put a hand 
 upon his arm. 
 
 " I was thinking of it all at that very moment," 
 she went on. " No one here seems to have a grain 
 of nerve left. You cannot wonder ; such a shock 
 is the shock of a lifetime. You do not think me 
 unwomanly to speak so? " 
 
 No no ! I am almost too bewildered to 
 think of anything. I have no theory nothing 
 to work upon ; I know simply what you know. 
 And I may never know anything more." 
 
 " Don't say that ! " She drew him close, as if 
 hardly knowing it. "You are not that sort of 
 man. You will never rest until you have him at 
 your feet the man who could do you such a 
 shameful wrong as that ! Why did you hesitate 
 because Miss St John was weak enough to think 
 only of herself? There was no train by which he 
 could have got away before morning. In your 
 place, I should have searched the neighbourhood 
 before midnight. At least, I should have gone 
 over every inch of the house grounds ! " 
 
 " They are strange to me," he said. " I had no 
 one to turn to ; I was in a false position." 
 
 " You can turn to me ! " She whispered it quite 
 calmly, quite naturally. The fathomless eyes, so 
 close to his own just then, seemed to expand and 
 expand. "While I am here, you can turn to me. 
 I can say no more." 
 
 She turned away, and stood as if waiting for
 
 86 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 his burst of confidence. But something had 
 checked it in his throat. With a grave, courteous 
 " Thank you, Miss Cottrell ! " he had passed out. 
 He was never to know that she waited for his 
 footsteps to die away, and then lifted her long 
 white arms as in a slow ecstasy, something be- 
 tween a sob and a delirious laugh in her throat. 
 
 "Sheba! No, not Sheba not yet! Not all 
 the glory of money and man's love for Sheba 
 St John ! " 
 
 It might have been a sudden desire for the 
 fresh air, or something in Judith Cottrell's last 
 words that had set his blood tingling afresh with 
 the longing to know, which made Spurr stride 
 from the house and click the hall door behind 
 him. To do what? He had not the faintest 
 notion. The black wall of night rose up about 
 him on every hand, only intensified by the moon- 
 light and a blotch of saffron glow still going up 
 from the furnaces at Barrowdene. He had that 
 day jostled his way through the roar and whirl 
 of London. To stand here was like standing in 
 the hush of some vast old cathedral, awed by a 
 sense of eternity. 
 
 Somewhere, perhaps within a few miles of him 
 at this moment, was the man who had entered 
 that doorway as himself. And he had done 
 nothing! He had let the vital thread slip from 
 his grasp. A woman's white, imploring face had 
 Numbed his first surge of righteous passion. It 
 was as if the flood tide of opportunity had drained 
 away and left him stranded. 
 
 Which way lay Felcote ? He had taken a few 
 steps down the drive, and then turned again, with
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 87 
 
 a half-smile to himself. By now, little doubt, the 
 news was common property. He would find him- 
 self the centre of an attraction unbearable just 
 now. 
 
 His eyes had been trained to darkness. He 
 made out a path, and calculated that it would take 
 him at an angle across the park-land out into 
 the station road. He struck along it, halting now 
 and then to listen, or to draw in one more deep 
 breath of this wonderful, milk-warm air. If nothing 
 else, it helped him to realise that he was moving 
 in sane wakefulness, and not dreaming it all in 
 the train flying across the Canadian plains. 
 
 He could see the road now. He could see the 
 lights of some vehicle that did not appear to move 
 strong, white lights. And then something else 
 riveted his attention. Just on his right lay a belt 
 of firs, their conical tops standing out against the 
 star-gemmed sky. Down on the level there was 
 a pin-prick of light, that seemed to swerve slowly, 
 to vanish, and then was glowing out redly again. 
 Born with the faculty of analysis, he watched it 
 until he knew. It was the burning tip of a cigar, 
 ever and anon taken from some man's lips. It 
 mattered nothing at such a time, and yet, presum- 
 ably,his uncle's grounds had been labelled "Private." 
 He strolled that way over the deadening grass. 
 No, it could mean nothing ; and yet a little sensa- 
 tion ran along his nerves as he got near enough to 
 hear the boom of the man's voice contemptuous, 
 studied, with now and then an impatient laugh. 
 Did he know it at all? Yes no he could not 
 be certain. 
 
 Everything seemed to justify his sudden de-
 
 88 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 termination to see the man's face. He tiptoed on, 
 until his hand closed upon the straight stem of the 
 first fir. He could make out nothing now : the 
 fan-like boughs formed a thick screen ; but he was 
 within a few yards of them. And it sounded as if 
 the listening woman had swung the cigar from the 
 man's lips. 
 
 " You coward you veneered villain ! " she had 
 said, in a dull, passionless voice that carried its 
 own especial thrill. " You are both ; and you 
 have made me the same. I can do it yes, to rid 
 you of an incubus to let you sleep even more 
 easily than you do. I can even have the money, 
 if by so doing I make your way clearer. Yes ! 
 But don't be sure. He is not a man to be fooled 
 and fascinated ; and, if I fail, I am not the woman 
 to stand back crushed while you " 
 
 " Bah ! Do what you like go to hell ! Come 
 here! If you play the Delilah with me now if 
 you let one breath of this reach the ears " 
 
 It broke off. There was a dull, defiant moan. 
 Spurr dashed back the branches and crashed 
 through on an impulse not to be resisted. 
 
 " Who is it ? who is there ? " he demanded, 
 sternly. 
 
 For the instant all was blind obscurity. He 
 had not even seen the flash of a woman's skirt 
 had heard only the snapping of twigs and the 
 crack of the pine-needles underfoot. He bent, 
 scaring between the sentinel-like lines of trees, 
 sure that he must be almost within touching dis- 
 tance of the man who could play upon a woman's 
 weakness. Then then he sprang. He had seen 
 something crouching away in a stooping posture.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 89 
 
 It twisted up convulsively. It was a man's 
 figure that was all he knew in that whirling 
 moment. An arm clamped his knees as he shot 
 out to grasp it. He went down, the base of his 
 skull thudding against a sawn stump. He struggled 
 up, a noise as of roaring waters in his ears. He 
 seemed blinded. Before he fairly realised that the 
 blow had crushed the hat-rim over his eyes he felt 
 the same arm grip him from behind. Blows from 
 a ringed, clenched hand were raining upon his 
 right temple. As he dashed back his head the 
 man gave a moan of agony, grappled for a hold 
 upon his throat, got it, and dragged him backwards 
 as for a throw that should end all. 
 
 Murder murder out here in the lonely planta- 
 tion belt ? Spurr hardly realised yet that a blow 
 had been struck the swiftness of it all in that 
 deep obscurity left it incredible he had been 
 prepared for nothing so sinister and definite. His 
 breath was coming in quick gasps ; he stared into 
 the red mist of death death by suffocation. 
 
 A brief, tentative pause now. Their panting 
 figures swayed together uncertainly. The hands 
 clamped Spurr's throat as tightly as ever, but the 
 man who owned the grip was afraid afraid to 
 release or to kill. And Spurr was strong ; he had 
 lived a careful life from a man's point of view ; 
 the surprise over, all his manhood and muscle rose 
 against the odds and the man who could calmly 
 terrorise a woman. He suddenly hurled himself 
 backward. 
 
 Their bodies crashed and rolled over the pine- 
 needles. More slowly more slowly now almost 
 inertly. Nothing had been gained by superior
 
 90 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 strength ; the fingers of the unknown man retained 
 their hold with nervous, terrible tenacity. The 
 pheasants screeched in the trees about them ; the 
 still plantation seemed alive with sound, as Spurr 
 set his teeth and concentrated his faculties for a 
 last effort that could not, should not, fail. He was 
 ready ; he knew that the clutching man was limp 
 and exhausted ; he had gathered his limbs to- 
 gether for the twist when crash ! 
 
 A deadening blow had been dealt at his head. 
 A heavy blow although both of his assailant's 
 hands were fettered by that grip. Heaven and 
 earth seemed to come together. With a mighty 
 effort he struggled up out of the threatening 
 oblivion, groped forward into the moonlight, saw 
 a man's figure racing dimly ahead of him, staggered 
 unsteadily in pursuit for about a hundred yards, 
 tried to shout, tottered and fell forward. 
 
 " Speak ! Speak to me ! Mr Spurr ! " 
 
 It was a quiet, unflurried voice that seemed to 
 come as from another world. He lay still, unable 
 to open his eyes or to answer. A sick lethargy 
 held him. How long he had lain so he might 
 never know, 
 
 " But what is it ? What has happened ? Trust 
 me ! you know Sister Judith Cottrell ? Surely ! " 
 
 The subdued voice, trained in the sickroom, 
 came a little more clearly. He could realise that 
 his hand was held between hers, and that she had 
 tjed to open and perhaps to chafe it. Not for 
 another moment did he know that his fingers 
 were tightly clenched upon a broken fragment of 
 gold watch chain. 
 
 " Lie quite still ! " she said, passing her cool
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 91 
 
 hand over his forehead. He obeyed. There was 
 something hypnotic again in the mere movement 
 in the very stillness of her kneeling attitude. 
 It was Judith Cottrell the woman whose door he 
 had opened in error here ! She bent yet lower, 
 to look closely. " You almost frightened me 
 me ! " she whispered. " I have seen a strong man 
 taken by a fit before, but never in that way never 
 so strangely. Why, don't you know ? You looked 
 to be running ; you toppled forward ; you have 
 not stirred for ten minutes." 
 
 " Where where were you ? " He hardly knew 
 that his lips had moved. The oblivion, and the 
 lulling touch, seemed to have made that struggle 
 in the fir belt a thing of hours ago. 
 
 "On the lawn there just behind the house. 
 Being a woman, I ought to have screamed out 
 but I never was able to do that yet. The nurse's 
 instinct made me run. You are better you can 
 move ? Shall I call someone from the house ? " 
 
 " No no ! " He set his teeth upon a gasp of 
 recurring pain through his temples, put back her 
 hand, and got to his feet. " No ! Say nothing 
 there is more than enough on their minds already. 
 It was my own fault for for tackling a man whom 
 I took to be poaching. And you saw me you 
 saw me from the lawn ? " 
 
 " You need not thank me ! " She stood, tall and 
 composed as a Cleopatra, before him. Her quiet 
 voice had taken a cold note, as if she were chilled 
 by his manner. " I have done nothing. It happened 
 to be late to-night before I came down for my only 
 breath of air in the open. That is all. It was to 
 be ! Let it pass."
 
 92 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " Forgive me ! " He felt weak, dazed. On a 
 sudden vague impulse he groped out for her hand 
 and raised it to his lips. It was the homage of a 
 single-hearted man who had escaped cynicism 
 who held woman in respect as something softly 
 wonderful, tactful, and weaker than himself. " God 
 knows, I am not ungrateful ! I do thank you ! 
 only only " 
 
 What ? The grey eyes watched him in strange 
 wonder. And, for the second time that night, the 
 natural impulse to speak out was checked in his 
 throat. The sickness had passed. He could 
 smile. 
 
 " Nothing nothing ! I will tell you, at some 
 other time. Yes, I can walk quite easily but I'll 
 keep your arm. It must be late ! " 
 
 " Half-past ten. There goes Felcote clock one 
 note," she said. 
 
 They went slowly over the grass, without another 
 word. On the edge of the moonlit drive Spurr 
 paused and looked around. 
 
 " Must I knock ? I would rather all this is 
 strange to me." 
 
 And she seemed to understand his man's mind. 
 
 " Wait here," she said. " You need not be seen 
 with me so late. The drawing-room windows 
 are still open just up the balcony there. I have 
 the key of the servants' entrance." She stood just 
 an instant longer, looking at him. " You look ill," 
 shm whispered. " I am so sorry so sorry that I 
 cannot help you. But you'll know ! A nurse is 
 not exactly as other women. She is a woman 
 and something more. She has learned her life's 
 lesson in the silent ward. You will be told, no
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 93 
 
 doubt, that Sister Judith was a mere living auto- 
 maton, who existed in herself and thought only of 
 herself. You will believe that, if you choose. I 
 have been hated here for my very silence. Silence ! 
 that is more eloquent than all the words to those 
 who can understand. But I must not keep you 
 out here. Evil will be worked into that small fact, 
 you'll find. All these windows are eyes. Good- 
 night ! " 
 
 For that instant, drawn up, with the moonlight's 
 play upon her, she looked like a tragedy queen. 
 Then she had turned to turn slowly again as the 
 man's husky voice sounded. 
 
 " Come back ! " He scarcely knew what had 
 impelled him knew only that he was stirred to 
 the depths. He loathed mystery ; yet he was 
 groping into a deeper darkness every hour. He 
 took a step and looked close into her colourless 
 face. He was stern and strong enough in that 
 moment. " I don't understand," he said. " I 
 judge no one I can read for myself. I speak 
 to you now as I would speak to any woman I 
 want to honour. You know what has happened 
 to-night ; you know that I stand in the most 
 terrible position that could come to a man. I 
 have to fight my way out of it I don't care to 
 feel that I am in the tentacles of further complica- 
 tions." He took both her wrists suddenly, and 
 held them tight. " I may be wrong you may 
 think I am mad ; but will you can you swear 
 to me that you " 
 
 No, he could not put it into words. Not a 
 muscle of her composed face had twitched ; the 
 steady grey eyes windowed only a vast wonder.
 
 94 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 It could never be asked or answered. He dropped 
 her hands, and stood back. 
 
 " You go ! " he said, more quietly. " Think no 
 more of it say nothing of this to anyone, as I 
 asked you. Silence, you said just now, can be 
 more eloquent than all the words ! " 
 
 "Yes, trust me, even although I do not under- 
 stand." Calmly, naturally, she brushed away the 
 pine-needles and leaves adhering to his clothes, 
 smoothed back the disordered wave of dark hair 
 falling over his forehead, and drew his necktie into 
 position with the cool, slim fingers. " There ! " 
 she said, ever so softly. " As a man, you might 
 have forgotten that and others might have 
 wondered. Good-night ! " 
 
 And she had moved around the house wall with 
 her noiseless step. She had not looked back she 
 was not the woman to do that. Perhaps she knew 
 knew that he was staring into space with blank 
 eyes, with the feeling that those tentacles were 
 winding themselves more closely about him as he 
 stood.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IT was close upon eleven o'clock, and the house 
 had grown quiet again, when Mrs Saxon, listening 
 in the hall for the tenth time, heard the drawing- 
 room windows click together. She drew a sharp 
 breath of vague relief nerved herself for the 
 ordeal. He had come back, as quietly as he had 
 gone! 
 
 Now she could hear him pacing the carpet with 
 long, slow strides, like a man buried in tremendous 
 thought. The door was ajar ; craning forward, 
 she could see him, his arms tightly folded, as he 
 turned at the far end. It seemed to her that 
 within the hour he had grown strangely haggard. 
 She felt humanly bound to watch him, and yet 
 she felt quiver after quiver of warm sympathy for 
 the man and his situation. Why oh, why, had 
 not Mr Crewe, the London solicitor, seen fit to 
 accompany him here in person as a guarantee? 
 Why had Mr Spartan Loder kept even his lawyer 
 at such a freezing distance ? 
 
 She coughed suddenly. He had been going 
 to touch the bell. And instantly he sprang forward. 
 
 " You, Mrs Saxon ? Just the person I wanted. 
 Yes, come in ! " He closed the door and dragged 
 forward a chair. " But I insist ! I want no ceremony 
 I want nothing to eat ; I was waiting to see 
 someone. There! You won't mind, but I was 
 anxious about your young lady. Is she " 
 
 95
 
 g6 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "She is sleeping quite calmly just now, Mr 
 Spurr ; and that is all I can honestly say at 
 present." 
 
 " Is that so ? " He looked past her, clearly 
 troubled. He had in a quiet way, that made her 
 tremble foolishly, pushed back the pile of keys that 
 she had placed upon the table near him. " I was 
 afraid, from her look, that the double shock " 
 
 " But you could not be held to account for that, 
 Mr Spurr," she struck in warmly. " Don't hint at 
 that, please ! God knows best what is to happen 
 for good or evil, as we take it ; and if, as Doctor 
 Lancing says, no one is to see Miss Sheba for a 
 week at least well, we must obey him." 
 
 He hardly seemed to realise. He moved to and 
 fro, his fingers clasping and unclasping behind 
 him. She divined at once that this was an un- 
 conscious habit of his as he shaped some question 
 that might not prove agreeable. And presently it 
 came. He threw down something taken from his 
 waistcoat pocket. 
 
 " Have you ever noticed a chain to which that 
 fragment might belong, Mrs Saxon ? " 
 
 " Chain ? " She stared at the two-inch length of 
 frail gold filaments. " I won't be sure. I half 
 fancy no, I can't say I have." 
 
 "Thank you." He repocketed it "You may 
 do. I I picked it up near the house. Never 
 mind that now. No one to see her for a week ! " 
 fte whispered the words as to himself twice. 
 " This Doctor Lancing I suppose he has always 
 been called here in cases of illness ? " 
 
 "For some years now yes. He is considered 
 to be far and away the most clever medical man
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 97 
 
 within five miles. And he is certainly the most 
 refined and agreeable," something made her 
 add. 
 
 " The successful man ! Yes, I saw that at a 
 glance." For a moment he watched the creeper 
 tendrils gently swaying against a background of 
 moonlit lawn. Questions and answers as yet 
 seemed to be churned to a head by sheer necessity. 
 He turned abruptly. " I'll tell you frankly why 
 I asked, Mrs Saxon. It will sound strange, con- 
 sidering I know nothing at all of what has gone 
 before ; but what should make him think or fear 
 that I was waiting to intrude myself upon Miss 
 St John?" 
 
 She could only gasp. It did not reach her com- 
 prehension. He went on, firmly, quietly : 
 
 "One thing stands out clear to me at this 
 moment. Doctor Lancing has resented my ap- 
 pearance on the scene. Otherwise, he would hardly 
 have taken upon himself to give me that super- 
 cilious warning almost a challenge within an 
 hour of my reaching the house. I was not to 
 dream of seeing her without his permission. I 
 don't think I answered him, and yet " 
 
 " You mistook his manner, sir, I assure you ! 
 That couldn't be. He knows how sensitive and 
 anxious she is he seemed to fear that she might 
 make too much of an effort and risk a real collapse 
 on your account. Between ourselves now, sir," 
 Mrs Saxon whispered, " I believe he meant to 
 keep her quiet up there until until the funeral 
 should be behind us. And, if so, I know that he 
 could have done nothing more really kind for her ! 
 . . . Pardon me, you are not at all well yourself, 
 
 G
 
 98 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Mr Spurr. You must give some thought to your- 
 self. The supper is all laid, if you would only " 
 
 No ; he had not heard the last words. He was 
 wiping his forehead mechanically. 
 
 " So be it ! Of course, I was hoping and ex- 
 pecting to see her as soon as possible ; but we'll 
 let him know best. We'll say it was an unwarranted 
 suspicion of mine. I can speak with you, at any- 
 rate. We are quite alone, I mean ? " 
 
 Mrs Saxon rose, threw open the door, and closed 
 it again. 
 
 " We have never allowed prying or gossip here, 
 Mr Spurr ; and I trust we never shall. Yes, we 
 must speak of it ! It happened just so that neither 
 the doctor, the servants, nor anyone outside, had 
 an idea of anything being wrong. Beyond our 
 three selves, only Miss Cottrell could have realised 
 at all and I think I can answer for her discre- 
 tion, considering that she seldom opens her lips to 
 anyone in the place, inside or out. And, of course, 
 within a day or two we shall have seen the last 
 of her here. But that that fact cannot make it 
 any the less terrible ! If I am not afraid, if I am 
 quite calm, it is only because I went down on my 
 knees and asked Almighty to reach out a Hand 
 to us to-night. For we can never feel the same 
 again until we know ! " 
 
 And Wilfrid Spurr took the hand from his eyes. 
 xUnder the tan of his skin there was a suggestion 
 of grey, but nothing of weariness or helpless fear 
 in his movements. He sat down facing her. 
 Every word was the word of a strong, determined 
 man momentarily overwhelmed and baffled. 
 
 " We shall know ! I have reason to think that
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 99 
 
 you believed in me almost at sight, and, after what 
 has happened, I can never forget that. At one 
 moment to-night I was on the point of turning 
 my back upon it all, and taking my passage back 
 to the West. Yes ; a coward's impulse, as it must 
 have left you all in a mist of terror and uncertainty ; 
 I saw that at once. I face the fact now that there 
 has been a master stroke of diabolical criminality 
 that I cannot see clearly one hour ahead of me. 
 For the moment, you must believe in me ! Put 
 yourself in my place : a feverish rush all the way 
 from Toronto, knowing nothing of what was at 
 this end of it ; a few minutes' hurried talk with the 
 lawyer in London ; and then the train journey 
 down to Barrowdene, to find my exact ' double ' 
 just leaving as I entered to face this unspeakable 
 position. I saw the look in Miss St John's eyes 
 I could never forget it ! " 
 
 Sitting very still, Mrs Saxon gazed out through 
 the balcony windows as if half expecting to see 
 that other tanned face framed in the moonlight 
 out there. That other man that man without a 
 name had a definite flesh-and-blood personality. 
 He seemed to have lived for that one hour, and 
 then to have slipped back into some death-like 
 obscurity which might never yield him up. 
 
 " Don't say it ! " she said, in a hushed voice. 
 " She is not here to answer you ; it would break 
 her heart if she knew you felt that. I have hardly 
 dared to give it all another thought. Now you 
 put it in such calm words I feel that we ought to 
 have sent to the police in that very first moment. 
 And yet how could we? I know Miss Sheba 
 saw the same picture that flashed over me. Those
 
 ioo THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 men tramping up and down the stairs, in and out 
 the rooms with him lying hardly cold there ; the 
 lanterns shining everywhere in the grounds, the 
 crowd coming farther and farther up the drive, 
 the hue-and-cry. ..." She checked the sobs 
 that had been forming and melting like hailstones 
 in her throat. " Oh, I thanked you in my heart 
 for waiting. You'll never know what I felt, sir, 
 when you came back into that room of his alone ! " 
 
 " I did," he answered gently. " I read it, again, 
 in Sheba's eyes. To have called in detectives, and 
 set up a world-wide sensation in the very hour of 
 my uncle's death no, somehow I could not do it. 
 What would be the first inevitable impression? 
 That I had come seven thousand miles for his 
 money, and his money alone. And, as I stand 
 now, I have no just right to conclude that money 
 was at the heart of it all. Who knows ? " 
 
 She was silent for a moment. She could see 
 the delicacy of the man's mind, and she could 
 grasp the delicacy of her own position. 
 
 " It came like a climax to all the suspense," 
 she whispered. " Like a thunderbolt at our feet, 
 stunning us all. And yet, of course, something 
 ought to be done. If that man deliberately 
 planned " 
 
 " Precisely ! " He had seen her hand shake 
 in the pause, and pressed it between his own. " I 
 X wanted to bring you round to that. You have 
 not realised, but I know nothing yet beyond the 
 bare fact. I waited to hear it all from your own 
 lips, before the impression fades. Be quite calm ; 
 tell me all you can what was said, and what was 
 done. Let nothing slip ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 101 
 
 And, in a low voice, she told him, taking up 
 the threads from that moment when the hall bell 
 had first jangled wildly. 
 
 The listening man never once took his eyes 
 from her face. He heard so distinctly, grasped 
 it so well, that his own face grew more grave, 
 more stern, more troubled. 
 
 " It grows darker ! " he said, in the silence follow- 
 ing. " It was like the moment between life and 
 death and I missed it. There was the library 
 the man stood there the key had gone the door 
 was locked. He did not actually enter the room 
 could not have done so, whatever his motive ; 
 the windows beyond were also fastened. And 
 
 yet " He slowly rose to his feet. " How was 
 
 that? I mean, how came the key to be in its 
 place in the lock, thirty minutes afterwards, when 
 I went to look? Answer that." 
 
 And Mrs Saxon swayed up, too, her cheeks 
 ashen. 
 
 " I can't answer, Mr Spurr. I can't bear any 
 more to-night. I don't want to say so, but I feel 
 that those are two of the things that will never 
 be answered in this life : why the clock in there 
 should have stopped at the very moment, one 
 might say, of the master's last breath ; and why 
 the key of that door should be missing just then 
 to be found a few minutes later. Yes yes, it 
 was lying at his very feet, as he stood there. One 
 of the maids picked it up a few minutes afterwards." 
 
 One more pause. The pulse of the mystery 
 could almost be felt to beat. 
 
 " What can I do ? " Spurr whispered, his arms 
 straining out. " A life's secret, that my uncle had
 
 102 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 guarded so closely, given into the keeping of a 
 villain who may be setting to work upon his 
 knowledge to-morrow, now! I am playing into 
 his hands. By to-morrow, naturally, the police 
 here " 
 
 " Would have done nothing," she put in. " Fel- 
 cote police ! They would stride in and out of the 
 house, take plenty of notes and refreshments 
 and go off to report progress. They can't help 
 it. They were chosen for their size and muscle 
 not for their brain power ! It was too late to 
 use the telegraph, too late to put a ring round 
 the county What is it, Mr Spurr." 
 
 He was not listening. He had drawn back the 
 balcony doors, stepped out, and shaded his eyes 
 to look all ways. Now that he knew all, the 
 analytical faculty flickered up in him less hazily. 
 He was tensely following the dropped thread. 
 
 "We are sure morally sure that he could 
 only have escaped by that dining-room window. 
 In that case, he would have dropped to the path 
 below here just as I faced you and Miss St John 
 in the hall. In that moment, all was lost and 
 all gained. . . . This grass plot stretches away 
 for some distance, I see. In his place, probably 
 knowing nothing of the grounds or locality, I 
 should have dashed straight ahead and made for 
 that dense clump of bushes away over there. Is 
 it a coppice? It looks too regular, and yet I can 
 >see nothing but leaves. There ! " 
 
 She peered as he pointed. She was glad just 
 then of the grip of his hand upon hers. 
 
 "You have wonderful eyes, Mr Spurr," she 
 had to breathe. " Unless I knew, I should see
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 103 
 
 only a mass of gloom. That is our maze. Mr 
 Loder built it years ago for his own private use. 
 He he came so to loathe the prying eyes and 
 ears of Felcote. They could not follow him there. 
 I was never in it, but I know it was built as a 
 puzzle, with cross paths everywhere that lead to 
 nothing, and that it cost him a small fortune in 
 money. You're never thinking to go across there 
 at this hour, sir ? " 
 
 "Not?" he whispered. He had been testing 
 the balcony rail, as if for a leap down. 
 
 " Don't dream of it ! Wait till daylight, now ! " 
 she begged, with a sudden tingle of misgiving as 
 to what might lurk beyond those still breadths 
 of shadow across there. "If anything happened 
 to you now, what would Miss Sheba " 
 
 " Miss Sheba ? " he repeated wonderingly. 
 Something had risen in the housekeeper's throat, 
 as she turned away. " Miss Sheba ? " 
 
 " I I don't know what made me say it. I 
 thought it hardly right for you to leave the house 
 again this side of to-morrow." 
 
 And he looked at her, his lips twitching curiously. 
 
 " But you forget ! I must be going, and very 
 soon. No ; I am not jesting, Mrs Saxon ! You, 
 and you alone, are taking me for granted ; I have 
 not produced one tangible proof of my identity 
 yet I have none to produce. I am going down to 
 the station hotel. I shall come straight here first 
 thing in the morning. I can do nothing more or 
 less." 
 
 The blank stare, and then Mrs Saxon was 
 sweeping out in her stateliest manner. She re- 
 appeared with a lighted taper, a small flask of
 
 104 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 wine, and some biscuits. She was a different 
 person. 
 
 " This way, Mr Spurr ! " She pronounced the 
 name with marked emphasis. " It wants twenty 
 minutes to one. This is not London nor Toronto. 
 The last train went through Felcote hours ago. 
 The hotel manager would not thank you for ham- 
 mering there for a single bed that would certainly 
 not be aired. Your room is ready ; I saw to that 
 myself." 
 
 "But " He was manifestly touched, yet 
 
 irresolute. " It might appear to Miss St John that 
 at least I " 
 
 She stopped him, with quiet severity. 
 
 " Eighteen minutes to one ! Let me tell you, 
 here and now, Mr Spurr, you do not know her 
 you are making the mistake of your life ! If Mr 
 Loder thought more of her than of anything else 
 in his world well, enough ! This way ! " and he 
 found himself following her up the massive old 
 staircase, with its niches and galleries overhead. 
 " Here you are ! Your ulster is here ; your hat I 
 could not find ; your bag is in that corner. Drink 
 this, and sleep forget it all for a while! Sleep 
 is so wonderful. God bless us all, sir good- 
 night ! " 
 
 He had found everything that a man could 
 want. He had undressed in a sort of stupor, put 
 On his sleeping suit, drunk the wine without know- 
 ing its flavour, smoked an inch of a cigar, put out 
 the light, placed something under his pillow, and 
 stretched himself out between the cool sheets.. 
 Now now he could realise that every bone and
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 105 
 
 muscle in his body were weary with a weariness 
 akin to pain. 
 
 He heard two o'clock strike. He was waiting 
 to hear three strike, and then the drowsiness stole 
 down in spite of his whirling brain and a deter- 
 mination not to sleep until some clue had taken 
 shape. He remembered nothing more until until 
 he found himself staring out into darkness, every 
 hair of his head seeming to stand up like a red- 
 hot wire. He had known, as without knowing, 
 that something breathed in the same room. Some- 
 thing was moving almost soundlessly to and fro. 
 The blind was drawn ; he had nothing but his 
 animal instincts to guide him ; but he knew. 
 
 "Who's that?" he said, as a man might speak 
 in his sleep. 
 
 A rustle, then all was still. He half swayed up. 
 No eyes could have seen through that darkness, 
 but his ears told him that the invisible shape was 
 drawing away, stealthily, foot by foot. Like a blaze 
 through his mind went the recollection that he had 
 placed the pistol beneath his pillow, as he had done 
 every night since leaving Toronto for the unknown. 
 It was out aimed for where the door seemed to 
 be. 
 
 " Don't move ! Not another step ! " he said 
 clearly. " If you do, as God hears me, I fire every 
 barrel in this revolver ! " 
 
 There was a long, faint moan a sound that he 
 was never to forget. And it came it came from 
 the throat of a woman. A woman ! . . . A woman 
 stood there, cowering from the flash that must 
 spirt out of the darkness and reveal her kill her. 
 
 His arm slowly went down, He could neither
 
 io6 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 speak nor move. And, as if he had given a mute 
 psychic offer of escape, there came the sudden 
 swift rustle and door click. He knew that he was 
 alone. 
 
 He sprang, lit the taper, and looked around. 
 Nothing had been touched ; he took all in at a 
 glance. There was nothing but the echo of that 
 moan to tell him that his brain had not played 
 him false. The corridor was bare. The house was 
 still with a stillness that he could not break. 
 
 He shot the doorkey, that he had forgotten to 
 use till now. He turned, with simply the know- 
 ledge that one more link had been added to the 
 chain of mystery fettering his brain and body !
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 WAN fingers of dawnlight were feeling their way 
 past the blind. The briefest yet strangest night 
 in Spurr's experience had come to its end. 
 
 He had lain with closed eyes, but without 
 further attempt at sleep. In that hour every 
 incident of the past ten days was lived anew. He 
 was pacing the white decks of the ocean liner 
 again, wondering ever and ever what could be 
 waiting at the end of that haphazard quest. He 
 was flying southward to London in the boat 
 express and now pushing open the inner door 
 of the solicitor's office. He heard once again the 
 latter's cold, surprising words : " I know little 
 more than yourself of Mr Spartan Loder's private 
 affairs. What I do know, I am expected to keep 
 to myself. Wisest for me to simply hand you his 
 address, and to let you know that he is not 
 expected to live." And then he was whirling 
 southward yet again rumbling along the dark 
 Barrowdene road in a fly and leaping down to 
 learn that, after spanning two continents, he 
 had missed his object. Death and that sinister 
 "double" had cheated him of it by a bare few 
 minutes. 
 
 And yet and yet something was telling him 
 insistently as he lay, that he had rushed to Eng- 
 land to meet his fate. 
 
 And ever and again he found himself uncon- 
 107
 
 io8 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 sciously trying to frame upon the wall the face 
 of his uncle's ward as he had first seen it that 
 sweet, pale oval, out of which shone two great 
 velvety, appealing eyes. Sheba ! It was just the 
 name he would have given her : soft, womanly, 
 dignified, tender Sheba ! 
 
 Five o'clock ! He was up and dressed, watching 
 the sky out there. Some invisible artist had been 
 tinting its blue-blackness with broadening streaks 
 of silver and saffron. Now the sun itself shot up 
 and threw a golden glory over all. The dew 
 glistened like a frost of diamonds. A lark sang 
 high and richly, rooks cawed back from a clump 
 of giant elms, and beyond all was the muffled 
 thunder of the tide beating against its cliff bound- 
 aries. Full day had dawned, and there might be 
 stern work before him. But the ways of the still 
 silent house were an unopened book to him as 
 yet ; he must wait a little longer. 
 
 " Sheba's ill," he kept saying to himself. " I 
 shall not see her for a week. A week of these 
 days!" 
 
 He sat at the open window, sea-borne air fanning 
 freshness upon his tired, tanned face. Daylight 
 thought gave it all a curiously different aspect. 
 The keen edge of the horror was taken off; he 
 could sift out details. But no solution ! 
 
 No one in England not even the lawyer had 
 ever set eyes on him until yesterday. He had no 
 pflpers or credentials whatever in his possession. 
 In the event of an inquiry, there was nothing on 
 this side the Atlantic to prove him his uncle's 
 nephew. Felcote might conceivably be whisper- 
 ing of him as a second masquerader on the scene,
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 109 
 
 drawn by the rumours of Spartan Loder's vast 
 hoards. Not that he minded for himself but his 
 thoughts always veered back to Sheba St John. 
 Had she taken this woman's refuge in order to 
 avoid coming face to face with him ? It was an 
 indescribable flash-thought, and a word rose up in 
 swift answer No ! 
 
 That clock was striking again. Six times nay, 
 seven. He sprang up, drew on a cap and his 
 ulster, and stepped quickly out and down the 
 stairs. His fingers were drawing the hall door 
 bolts, when a little cough behind made him turn. 
 There stood the stately housekeeper, pointing 
 smilingly to an open doorway from which stole 
 the aroma of new-made coffee. 
 
 " Not a word," she whispered, waving back his 
 protest. " I smelt the cigar and guessed the rest. 
 Come along." 
 
 He hesitated, then obeyed. He would not, could 
 not, let her know just now what it was that had 
 broken his chance of sleep. He sat down, sipped 
 the coffee, and made a brave pretence of eating. 
 He was telling himself that this must be the 
 dining-room, across which that impostor had taken 
 his fevered rush. Presently, as Mrs Saxon rustled 
 out to answer the servants' bell, he set down his 
 cup. Next moment he had dropped lightly from 
 the balcony railing. He could explain later. 
 
 Now! 
 
 His pulse quickened at once. Just at this point 
 there was a distinct furrowing of the gravel sur- 
 face, as if someone had sprung blindly, heavily, 
 scored the ground in falling, and then careered 
 wildly away across the lawn,
 
 no THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 That lawn, fortunately, was newly cropped. For 
 the first few yards the mark of those toe-tips was 
 thrillingly distinct ; he could follow them at a run. 
 Then they became less definite ; a gossamer of dew- 
 webs had in parts all but effaced them ; it was only 
 by crouching low and staring hard that he could 
 say where the grass blades had been recently 
 bruised. And here it was that his partly de- 
 veloped backwood instincts enabled him to forge 
 forward where an everyday police officer would 
 have stood at a loss. 
 
 He had won a hard way across two-thirds of the 
 green stretch, and was straining every faculty to 
 the utmost, anxious to get beyond sight of the 
 house. Just once the strong sensation of being 
 watched made him him glance backwards. From 
 an upper window he could not be sure in which 
 corridor he saw a face intently peering down at 
 him. A woman's face, withdrawn almost instantly. 
 It was nothing, and yet some queer connection of 
 ideas made him straighten up and clap a hand to 
 his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 A grim look tightened his strong jaws. He 
 would not turn back could not pause now to 
 think it out ; but a partial light had broken in 
 upon him. There was just the bare possibility 
 that that fragment of gold chain had fallen from 
 the pocket, but it was not there now. And the 
 waistcoat had hung from the foot of his bed during 
 tfife night 
 
 He drew a deep breath, and went doggedly on, 
 with a care and acumen that would have done 
 credit to a professional detective. These foot- 
 marks might be obliterated in twelve hours more.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD in 
 
 When at last he paused it was because he found 
 himself brought up at the thick dark patch, green 
 in this sunlight, which Mrs Saxon had called the 
 maze. In fact, the narrow, pillar-box-like slit of 
 an entrance, with its fantastic arch of close-cut 
 privet, faced him. Bar or gateway there was none. 
 And, as he stood, the maze seemed to rustle and 
 call to him from its deep recesses. 
 
 He dropped the footprint clue, without know- 
 ing why. Through him rushed the thought that 
 that flying man had made straight for this laby- 
 rinthine refuge in case of close pursuit. It seemed 
 so feasible it seemed to fit the moment's un- 
 certainty exactly. It might have struck him as 
 barely probable that his " double " should have 
 known of the retreat at all ; but it did not not at 
 the moment. He gave a hasty glance back at the 
 house windows, now dwindled to tiny, shining 
 squares, and plunged straight into the narrow 
 path. 
 
 The effect was startling. A sensation of being 
 cramped for space the sunlight almost blotted 
 out a cathedral-like twilight and solemnity the 
 strong scent of the privet wood mingled with faint 
 steam from soil scarce ever reached by light. Spin- 
 ning round he saw that the entrance had apparently 
 closed up behind him. He tiptoed back. It was 
 a trick entrance, obscured by a double pillar of the 
 privet, and not obvious to anyone inside the maze. 
 He noted the fact with a little laugh to himself. 
 
 He could see no complications ahead. It ap- 
 peared mere child's play to walk straight to the 
 heart of Mr Loder's maze. Several paths, all appar- 
 ently running parallel, and suggesting a curve that
 
 H2 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 must eventually bring them back to this same 
 point, opened out on either side. He chose to 
 follow the central avenue, quickened his pace 
 expectantly, and presently found himself barred 
 by a lateral wall of the privet. Turning resolutely 
 back by the same avenue, he was prepared to 
 make oath he found himself brought to a halt by 
 the same obstacle. Wheeling off at a likely angle, 
 he went forward a little less impetuously, his 
 nerves still tense with the idea of hitting upon 
 some vital discovery he knew not in what shape 
 or form. 
 
 It was when he had repeated or reversed the 
 process several times, without the faintest result, 
 that he stood to grasp for himself the astounding 
 intricacy of the living scheme, and the apparent 
 futility of locating any clue here. 
 
 The place was treeless, but that baffling twilight 
 lay over it like a velvet pall. Each branching path, 
 bordered by the rigid privet walls, and bridged at 
 intervals by grotesque arches, was an exact replica 
 of all the rest. No two persons could pass abreast 
 down any one of them, and the sensation of moving 
 ever forward and yet backward, penned in by those 
 coffin-like hedges, was something more than merely 
 novel. One eerie mental effect in particular it 
 had : that of causing the labyrinth to expand 
 illimitably at every successive turn. 
 
 There seemed nothing for it but to strike back 
 tnd take up afresh the lawn clue. He had felt 
 fairly confident of reaching the arched entrance 
 without difficulty ; it was only when he had 
 tramped determinedly for what appeared un- 
 pleasantly like a solid hour that he drew up in a
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 113 
 
 dilemma. In any other circumstances the situa- 
 tion would have appealed forcibly to his sense of 
 humour ; just now he was aware of a cold chagrin. 
 His lips refused to hazard a shout ; and yet to 
 stand there almost within hailing distance of the 
 house, without power to reach it, seemed the acme 
 of ironic development. Guiding clue from over- 
 head there was none only the same narrow slit 
 of blue sky above each path. If he had ever 
 known Spartan Loder in life, in that silence he 
 could almost have heard a mocking chuckle from 
 the old man's throat. Spartan Loder had left 
 behind him a living trap. 
 
 And then, of a sudden, his heart took that sick 
 bound. All his nerves seemed raw on the surface. 
 A little sweat was beading out upon him. 
 
 " My God ! " he whispered involuntarily, with 
 no thought of irreverence. " What was that? " 
 
 He had halted at the junction of three cross 
 paths. As he scanned them carefully in turn, he 
 saw something that seemed wholly incredible at 
 such a moment, in such a place. The dreamlike 
 flutter of a woman's robe a white robe at the 
 end of the central path. It had appeared and 
 vanished like a glow-worm's light in darkness. 
 
 There was a woman here, quite close to him, 
 moving like a noiseless spirit through this same 
 twilight. He thought of the figure in the night 
 just passed ; he thought of the face at the window, 
 It might be that his every futile turn and twist was 
 being watched. 
 
 Pooh ! He wiped his forehead laughed to 
 himself. Pooh ! One of the house servants, 
 perhaps fluttered and confused by his unex- 
 
 H
 
 H4 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 pected presence here. One fact, and one only, 
 was crystal-clear : he was not alone in old Loder's 
 maze. It had no deeper significance ! 
 
 He had cleared his throat, to call out a simple 
 reassuring question. He checked it. Heaven 
 alone knew why, but a shout seemed as strangely 
 out of place here as in a hushed church. Instead, 
 he took a light, swift run on tiptoe. All he asked 
 was to catch up with the figure again, and keep it 
 in sight from a discreet distance. There was no 
 call for any disturbing stories of a strange man 
 seen groping in the maze. 
 
 Eh ? He might almost have believed that she, 
 too, had acted on the same impulse to run. The 
 same elusive fragment of white skirt was just trail- 
 ing out of sight beyond another bend. Once more 
 he sprinted along at a stealthy rush to pause and 
 stare again in a sickly heat. This was like playing 
 hide-and-seek in a dark room. He almost dreaded 
 to move forward, to turn back, to breathe aloud. 
 He and the phantom figure were winding around 
 each other, as the Indian spy circles his pursuer's 
 track. It seemed in front behind everywhere 
 but where it should have been ! 
 
 At this point, if anything were certain on this 
 earth, he must be within a few paces of her ; yet 
 there was no sign of movement anywhere. Did 
 she know? Was she following or fleeing from 
 him ? Several paths crossed just here with an 
 inconsequence galling beyond words at the 
 moment. None seemed more than thirty yards 
 in length, and yet each ran toward a fresh, dis- 
 tinct tangle. A madman's ingenuity from in- 
 ception to consummation. He would know !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 115 
 
 Barely a second could have been lost before 
 he put a hand to his mouth. The words cut the 
 silence with a ringing distinctness that could not 
 be mistaken. 
 
 " I am Mr Wilfred Spurr ! I must ask you to 
 answer me back to tell me which path I should, 
 follow for the lawn ! " 
 
 The echo came past him, and died again. Not 
 another sound ! Yet every syllable had been 
 heard upon that he would stake his very life. A 
 sensation that he had never before experienced 
 stole over him, as he moved slowly round to gaze 
 along the paths in turn, not knowing across which 
 that fugitive white figure might next flit like an 
 intangible, voiceless thing. 
 
 " Answer me, whoever you are ! " he shouted 
 huskily. 
 
 But nothing answered. He could only stand 
 spellbound, sure of something deep and sinister 
 breathing in the hot, oppressive twilight some- 
 thing only too consonant with the mystery of all 
 that had happened since he sprang from the train 
 at Barrowdene station. There could be only one 
 natural explanation of her silence she dreaded 
 recognition here. Why ? 
 
 " She shall she shall speak ! " he said to himself 
 twice. 
 
 Just where he stood the green wall in one spot 
 had wasted slightly, and quite mechanically he 
 parted the twigs to see beyond. Next moment 
 he had gasped in a spasm of sheer horror and 
 then was making a fierce, mighty effort to crash 
 through the barrier. . . . Just beyond it must lie a 
 parallel path, and the woman's dilated eyes had
 
 n6 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 been staring through at him. Staring eyes, almost 
 like those of an animal glowing from the rear of a 
 cage as if she held her breath in a fascination of 
 wonder as to his next movement. They were gone. 
 He could never say to what face they had belonged. 
 All was blotted out by a surge of passion. He had 
 been watched. 
 
 Thud ! With a supreme, resistless effort he had 
 dragged himself over, and dropped heavily to the 
 other side. And he was just in time to see the 
 noiseless figure fade like a ghost into the obscurity 
 at the far end. 
 
 "Stop! Who is it? Speak!" his maddened 
 voice rose. " Speak ! " 
 
 He ran hard, reached the spot, paused again. 
 At that moment he would have yielded a year of 
 precious life to confront the elusive figure, which 
 might even now be standing motionless within a 
 few paces of him which might even now be. . . . 
 
 There there again ! He had seen the flutter 
 of the white robe once more. He panted forward. 
 This time this time ! He leaped, clutched not 
 at the dress upon a woman's body, but at a strip 
 of something dangling from a barb-like spike of 
 the privet wood. His staring eyes focussed a piece 
 of soft, refined material not white, but of a delicate 
 primrose, dotted with silk sprays of wisteria blossom 
 jagged beyond all shadow of doubt from the robe 
 of the woman who had just flown by that bend. 
 
 He thrust it beneath his linen cuff. He was 
 beaten. His man's endurance was exhausted. 
 
 The sun had climbed nearly to its highest and 
 hottest when, weary, listless, and distinctly dis- 
 hevelled, Wilfrid Spurr found himself facing the
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 117 
 
 arched slit of an entrance. There it was, just as 
 if a pitying magician's wand had summoned it. 
 
 He was past feeling surprise, or even relief. He 
 walked dazedly through into the open into what 
 seemed a new world. There, within three hundred 
 easy strides, stood the rambling old square house. 
 He looked all ways, flicked his clothes, and then, 
 with another queer little laugh to himself, struck 
 at right angles across the lawn. Whom could he 
 tell ? Who would believe him ? Even the signifi- 
 cance of that strip of dress material seemed to fade 
 out in the open sunlight. He had set out full of de- 
 termination, and he had achieved nothing. Nothing ! 
 
 He plunged recklessly through an evergreen 
 shrubbery into the drive. In the cool shadow 
 of the trees he stood, his arms straining out, 
 whispering : 
 
 " Toronto ! I wish to heaven now I had never 
 left it never seen his cursed advertisement ! 
 Heir to what ? To a legacy of dread ! " 
 
 Puff puff whirr-r-r ! A spotless, exquisitely 
 enamelled motor car was just spinning away from 
 the house front. Like a thing of life it took the 
 bend ; in what seemed a flash of time it was 
 whizzing by him. No ! It drew up almost abreast 
 of him. He went to draw back, but it was too 
 late. The man lying back in the cushioned 
 tonneau leaped out, lifted his glossy hat, ex- 
 tended a gloved hand as slender and shapely as a 
 woman's, and smiled till his white teeth showed in 
 two glistening rows. 
 
 " Mr Wilfrid Spurr ? Yes ! The very man I 
 most wanted to run across to-day ! " 
 
 It was Doctor Gilbert Lancing.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 STEADILY into each other's eyes the two men 
 looked, as if fencing for an opening. Their hands 
 had just met, and then fallen apart. Spurr was 
 the first to break the pause. 
 
 " You see me rather at a disadvantage, perhaps ? " 
 he asked coolly. He had given one glance down 
 for the other's waistcoat. It was buttoned over 
 by the immaculate frock-coat. 
 
 " My dear sir, a medical man sees a good many 
 of his fellow-creatures at a disadvantage or he 
 starves ! " The ice was broken. Doctor Lancing 
 laughed softly. Spurr found his arm suddenly 
 linked with an ease as enviable as stupefying. 
 " Walk back a few steps, will you ? My chauffeur 
 forgets what he hears as soon as possible, but he 
 is only a man. Thanks ! Can you guess what 
 I have to say ? " 
 
 "Perhaps I can. That you find Miss St John 
 so much more unwell to-day that you have ordered 
 her to keep to her room for two weeks instead of 
 one? It will not surprise me." 
 
 He watched closely watched a face as delicately 
 carved and poised as those of the Greek gods. 
 He half admired the man whose steely-blue eyes 
 betrayed nothing. There was a suggestion of 
 superior privilege and triumph in the curve of the 
 doctor's thin lips. 
 
 " It need not," he said softly. " Oh no nothing 
 
 118
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 119 
 
 of that. Miss St John is still under the soothing 
 influence of the draught which I prescribed." 
 
 " Why ? " The fierce syllable would not be kept 
 back. That melodious drawl set him quivering. 
 It had the ring of artificiality ; it smacked of the 
 surgery and it hinted at the subtle advantage of 
 his position. " Why ? Speak plainly speak like 
 a man if you speak to me at all ! " 
 
 "My dear sir!" He laughed. "I found it 
 necessary ; that is all. You have no knowledge 
 of Miss St John's temperament, I believe. A 
 curiously susceptible woman, apt to magnify little 
 worries until they take tragic shape, I assure you ! 
 In fact" he flicked a tiny green fly from his coat 
 sleeve as he glanced around " I think seriously 
 of sending her quite away. As medical adviser 
 to Mr Loder's household, I have never considered 
 that the Felcote or, rather, the Manor House 
 atmosphere suited Miss St John's constitution. 
 I am sure of it now." 
 
 " Quite sure ? " Spurr asked, still watching. 
 
 " Quite ! I have had considerable opportunity 
 of judging. Er try one of my cigarettes, Mr 
 Spurr. I seldom smoke, myself, but I believe 
 these are worth an experiment ! " 
 
 Spurr looked at the gold-mounted case, without 
 seeming to see it. He looked away. His set face 
 had not moved a muscle. 
 
 " Do you ever smoke cigars ? " he asked absently. 
 
 " Yes, once in a month, perhaps," came the quick 
 answer. 
 
 " I see. I merely wondered." 
 
 Then the pause. Doctor Lancing was a little 
 paler, if anything, that was all. He smoothed his
 
 120 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 gloves, till the other man roused as from a 
 reverie. 
 
 " I have an idea," Spurr said slowly, " that Miss 
 St John is a woman who will suit her own con- 
 venience in the matter entirely. And there we 
 will leave " 
 
 " You speak for her ? " flashed from the thin 
 lips. He bowed smilingly. " That is a revelation 
 for me. Possibly, too, your own faith in doctors' 
 advice is limited ? " and Spurr gave his quiet little 
 laugh. 
 
 " As it happens, it is. I never needed the advice 
 to any extent" 
 
 " You have been fortunate, then ! " 
 
 "Yes," he said, with a steady deliberation. 
 " Perhaps I have," and he was moving away. 
 
 " One moment ! " His arm was gripped. Gilbert 
 Lancing's voice came a trifle faster. " I can waive 
 that studied insult, I can afford to. I'll say what 
 I meant to say. I am not curious in the least 
 in regard to your intentions, but I have just 
 happened to recollect something interesting. You 
 may want me before long. In fact, you may find 
 me an indispensable factor in your affairs. See?" 
 
 "You?" Spurr measured him with his eye 
 from head to foot, as if to gauge something for 
 a future contingency. " You? " he repeated. 
 
 " Precisely ! You see, although Mr Loder lived 
 without friends, he could net die without fulfilling 
 a legal condition. I believe I am not positive 
 I am named as one of the executors of your late 
 uncle's will. He mentioned some time ago that 
 he had done me that honour. He may have 
 changed his mind since. If not, as I say, you
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 121 
 
 may need me. That is all! Very little, was it 
 not?" 
 
 " And who is the other executor, may I ask ? " 
 
 "You may! It is Mr Carnforth, our highly- 
 esteemed minister here. Like many other free- 
 thinkers, Mr Loder preferred a religious man for 
 that capacity." 
 
 Minutes appeared to pass before Wilfred Spurr 
 could seem to rivet his faculties upon the develop- 
 ment. His mind was still in the maze, following 
 that velvet-footed figure along the shadowy paths. 
 He was about to speak, when, for the second time, 
 he found his wrist gripped. Doctor Lancing 
 stared, pointed, and dropped it, with a palpable 
 sneer in his laugh. 
 
 " Pardon me ! I knew I had seen that material 
 before. Yes, in one piece, on the pretty wearer's 
 back ! The summer robe that my patient wore 
 at church only a few weeks back. I sat behind 
 her ; I admired it ; but it would never have occurred 
 to me to ask for a sample to carry about. Do 
 excuse me! Miss St John's dress very quaint 
 idea very " 
 
 " A lie ! " Spurr's olive tan had deepened for a 
 second ; then half the blood seemed to drain from 
 his face. He strode closer. " I say it again 
 a lie!" 
 
 " What ? " whispered the other. " What ? " 
 
 His fingers had closed upon the lapel of Spurr's 
 coat ; in his blue eyes something had flickered. 
 He stood very still as Spurr struck the arm 
 away. The latter had become as suddenly cool 
 again. 
 
 " I have said it to your face," he said. " If,
 
 122 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 some day, I can't prove it, I'll apologise. For the 
 present, good-day ! " 
 
 He walked coolly on toward the house, as if 
 all unaware of a man staring after him, of gloved 
 hands clenched until the stitching cracked, of a 
 face ghastly with passion that dared not vent 
 itself openly. 
 
 " You shall pay the price of that," the doctor 
 was whispering to space. " Heavens, you shall ! 
 and before long ! " 
 
 "You, sir! Oh, thank goodness! I began to 
 fear I hardly know what that you must be lost, 
 at least ! " 
 
 It was Mrs Saxon's hushed, welcoming voice. 
 She sat down to let a tremble pass as Wilfred 
 Spurr stepped through the open doorway of the 
 hall and stood looking about him. Nearly five 
 hours ! and he reappeared as quietly as if they 
 had been minutes ! 
 
 " Lost ? You have hit upon the very word ! " he 
 owned. " I was lost in that maze of yours. I for- 
 got there were no trees to ' blaze ' as one goes ; I 
 walked straight in, and have but just emerged." 
 
 She stared at him at his clothes her lips 
 parted in vague awe. 
 
 " Never ! Believe me, sir, I stood at that window 
 twice and thought to myself, ' could he have ven- 
 tured in there alone?' You may laugh, but it's 
 a mercy you are here now ! And yet isn't it 
 singular? nearly all the gentlemen who have 
 happened to call here not many, to be sure 
 have gone straight to it the moment they heard. 
 A mile across? a nti/ef Bless you, sir, not a 
 half nothing like it ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 123 
 
 He half smiled his scepticism. She wondered 
 what it was that he held behind him, and why 
 that arm kept twitching. She wondered many 
 things. 
 
 "There!" she breathed. "You looked just a 
 little like poor Mr Loder, as you stood at that 
 moment ! Fifteen years ago ! As if it were 
 yesterday, I recollect opening the library door one 
 day, never thinking, and he was there, with the 
 grand oak dining-table dotted all over with lines 
 and crosses. The way he sprang the way his 
 eyes flamed ! It palsied me for the moment. As 
 if I should take in all his spider-web calculations ! 
 Yes ; the plan of his maze. He had men brought 
 from a distance. We used to watch them at work ; 
 we were not quite certain whether he might be 
 laying a mine, or something of that sort. They 
 transplanted shrubs about three feet high ; as they 
 moved, I recollect, they seemed to be walking 
 round and round each other without ever getting 
 nearer. Then gradually the place got dark and 
 deceptive. Once a year he had the same men to 
 come and clip the hedges. But the gardener will 
 tell you more than I can, if you are interested." 
 
 He was deeply engrossed. She saw it, and 
 went on : 
 
 " Once, and once only, I can recollect Mr Crewe, 
 that stiff, silent solicitor gentleman, coming down 
 here. He was swallowed up in the maze for hours, 
 while Mr Loder sat there shaking with chuckles 
 to give them a name. He challenged its extent, 
 as you do now. He demanded the plan ; but Mr 
 Loder had never shown that to a living soul that 
 bit of secrecy was life and breath to him." She
 
 124 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 bent nearer, sinking her voice. "What do you 
 think Mr Crewe did ? Fastened some silk twine 
 to an arrow affair, shot the arrow across from side 
 to side in some clever way, drew his silk tight, and 
 then measured it. He had lost his last train back 
 to town, but he gained his point and that's what 
 most gentlemen like to do, I know. Mr Spurr, 
 he was dumfounded to know that he had been 
 rambling and groping all those hours in a mere 
 toy speck of a place. I know full well he would 
 have given something to step across again and set 
 fire to the whole mystery, out of spite. He has 
 never been here since, at any rate. I had never 
 set foot in the thing, because I had no wish to dis- 
 obey Mr Loder ; and when that once he insisted 
 upon my following him to see the pavilion he had 
 built in the middle, I " 
 
 "Pavilion?" Spurr whispered curiously. "Where ? 
 Are you dreaming this ? " 
 
 " To be sure ! the little glass-roofed house on 
 the mound. You might call it a sort of baby 
 bungalow or summer-house. He labelled it his 
 pavilion. Yes ; with stained-glass windows and a 
 tiled flooring, actually ! I haven't forgotten it yet. 
 It was very hot, and he spoke not a word. I felt 
 sinking away as I followed him in and out those 
 awful paths. When we suddenly came out to the 
 mound, and he_ pointed well, I suppose I must 
 have been worked up ! it looked to me like a sort 
 of goblin affair not real at any other moment. I 
 think I gave one stifled scream. The hedges 
 came close all round his pavilion ; there was hardly 
 room to turn, and not a breath of air to breathe ; 
 and the flies hung over it in a perfect cloud.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 125 
 
 There, it was no place for any woman, much less 
 a woman with nerves. But, poor Mr Loder ! " She 
 turned away eyes that had gone dim and misty. 
 " He loved it. Come to that, he couldn't have 
 been more secure against noise or prying eyes on 
 the top of a mountain ; so that was everything, I 
 suppose. Not that it matters now to anyone else ; 
 the fascination of the place died with him. No, 
 sir ; I doubt whether you would ever find the 
 pavilion without his key of the paths unless you 
 were trying not to find it. Once, and once only . . . 
 Mr Spurr ! What what is that ? " 
 
 She went back a slow step. The new master 
 had not been listening. Abruptly, determinedly, 
 almost as if it cost him an effort, he suddenly held 
 out a jagged strip of cloth. 
 
 " How how came that to be lying on the lawn ? 
 It seemed new, so I " 
 
 " New ! " Her voice thickened with awe. " On 
 the lawn that! Impossible! It's a strip of the 
 top flounce of Miss Sheba's delaine gown, that 
 Mr Loder paid such a price for two months ago 
 silk wisteria blossom worked by hand upon 
 delaine ! " 
 
 "It is not!" rattled in the man's throat. He 
 tossed the remnant down, and turned unsteadily. 
 He put out a hand to clutch the oak chair at his 
 side ; once again the blood had seemed to drain 
 from his face ; his eyes stared as at something no 
 one else could see. Then he had turned again. 
 "It never was. I refuse to hear it. Show me 
 show me the dress from which it came ! " 
 
 In the silence she stared at him, eyes wide and 
 lips apart, all else forgotten. There was something
 
 126 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 that she, too, struggled to grasp from a woman's 
 point of view. She whispered : 
 
 " I can. There was never another piece of 
 material in this house in all Felcote like it. 
 It came straight from Paris to a dressmaker at 
 Barrowdene. I recollect seeing Miss Sheba step 
 into the carriage the first time " 
 
 " No, never never ! " he muttered. He bit his 
 lip as upon an impulse to say something best left 
 unsaid. " Can you show me the dress ? That is 
 all I want. Now ! " 
 
 Mrs Saxon turned and went up the staircase. 
 He paced to and fro, arms drawn up stiffly at his 
 side. It seemed an unendurable interval before 
 her sharp whisper came down from the first land- 
 ing. He stumbled up. Mrs Saxon was trembling. 
 She slowly unfolded a length of the wisteria-sprayed 
 cloth. All her woman's instincts were on edge. 
 
 " Look ! That identical piece is missing torn 
 clean out. The dress is ruined ; it is soiled from 
 throat to hem. Only a day or two back certainly 
 not three it was hanging in tissue wrappings 
 in the wardrobe in Miss Sheba's dressing-room, as 
 pure and beautiful as new snow. How how is it 
 to be accounted for ? " 
 
 " God knows ! " He wiped his forehead. He 
 spoke very quietly again now. " Say not a word 
 to anyone. Put it back ! " 
 
 " Back in this condition ? " 
 
 ^'Yes! The dress is nothing Miss Sheba's 
 honour is everything. I beg your pardon for 
 answering you as I did. Let this rest between 
 ourselves, until light comes through the darkness. 
 It will!"
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 127 
 
 He went mechanically down to the dining-room, 
 and stood there stood like a man struggling to 
 throw off invisible fetters. She had replaced the 
 robe in its recess, locked the wardrobe door with a 
 shiver of prescience not to be explained ; then she 
 suddenly came back to realisation, and hurried 
 back to the hall. 
 
 " Forgive us all, sir ! I don't know what you 
 must be thinking ! Lunch has been laid for you 
 since ten o'clock, when I saw what had happened at 
 breakfast. I insist, Mr Spurr ! I'm just going to 
 ring the bell. . . . Hark ! Someone for you, sir ? "
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 WHEELS had sounded unnoticed. The house bell 
 pealed. Before Spurr's mind could act a servant 
 had passed him and thrown back the hall door. 
 
 A murmur of rich voices, an indefinable swish 
 of skirts, a wave of Parma violet scent, and two 
 figures were floating royally forward. Carlotta 
 Barrington, and her frigid, inseparable shadow 
 Blanche. There was no time to wonder or to beat 
 a graceful retreat. Carlotta had seen him. Her 
 great, red-brown eyes sweeping round to take in 
 every physical detail of the unnamed man stand- 
 ing there so stiff and still, she bore down upon 
 the housekeeper with a little cry and both hands 
 flung out dramatically. 
 
 " Mrs Saxon ! We had to ! It seemed too 
 sudden and terrible to be true. Our poor, dear 
 Sheba ! How is she bearing it this morning ? 
 Do tell her ! Bygones must be bygones from now ; 
 the cruel restraint has been none of our seeking, as 
 all the world knows. She needs all her courage 
 to-day and you, too ! " 
 
 Mrs Saxon's presence of mind had not deserted 
 her for an instant. She comprehended all at a 
 glance. Her own hands folded calmly, she faced 
 them with her stateliest bow of reserve. She 
 knew that Wilfred Spurr stood there uncertainly 
 behind her. She acted upon a woman's unerring 
 instinct. 
 
 128
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 129 
 
 " Thank you ! Will you " She was hold- 
 ing back the drawing-room door. 
 
 For the first time in many years the best room 
 in the Manor House was opened for Carlotta and 
 Blanche Barrington. They floated in. It was a 
 great moment, tingling with possibilities. Wilfred 
 Spurr, as a man, must follow to explain the posi- 
 tion and apologise for his unprepared appearance. 
 He must! 
 
 He had moved a step. He found his arm 
 plucked. Mrs Saxon held the door, and whispered 
 tensely : 
 
 " You need not, sir ! You shall not ! You 
 understand why they came ? Once recognise their 
 footing here, you'll never keep them out again 
 in life. Could you read nothing in that lady's 
 eyes, sir ? " 
 
 " Her eyes ? I hardly saw. Who are they ? 
 Surely someone must " 
 
 She whispered rapidly again. A light illumined 
 his weary, set face. He nodded, and tiptoed 
 quietly back down the passage. For perhaps five 
 minutes Mrs Saxon waited and watched calmly 
 from the first landing. In that time she had seen 
 the head of Carlotta, with its drooping hat of 
 feathers over chestnut hair, look out cautiously 
 twice. Then she tapped. 
 
 " I am sorry, Miss Barrington, but our young 
 lady does not feel equal to seeing anyone yet In 
 fact, opiates have been necessary, and I think it 
 unwise to disturb her. If you care to leave your 
 message in writing " 
 
 " No no ! " Both figures swerved icily from 
 the mirror there. Carlotta peered beyond around
 
 130 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 the hall, was baffled, and had to betray the fact. 
 " As you say, wholly unnecessary to disturb her 
 on our account. So sorry we troubled you ! " 
 
 " No message, then ? " Mrs Saxon's quiet bow 
 implied : " No need to linger, then ! " 
 
 "Give her our deepest sympathy, won't you? 
 We will put off our call until a less tragic moment 
 say that! And yet, is there no way in which 
 we could help ? " 
 
 " I know of none, Miss Barrington. Mr Spurr is 
 here now, to make all necessary arrangements on 
 Miss St John's behalf, and fully capable, thanks ! " 
 
 " Really ? " breathed Blanche. " How interesting 
 for her I should say, how singularly providential ! 
 Why " 
 
 A hiss from Carlotta's teeth checked her. 
 
 " Why, yes, of course, we heard that Mr Loder's 
 nephew had arrived. But in that case ah, yes, 
 I see what Mrs Saxon means ! I feared it ! But, 
 there, it is not as if she had never mentally faced 
 the change, now rendered inevitable. Mrs Saxon, 
 it does seem so overpoweringly sad ! " 
 
 Mrs Saxon was flicking a suspicion of dust from 
 the faded pictures, and heard nothing. And still 
 not another glimpse of the bronzed man with that 
 intent, powerful-looking face. Carlotta, as she 
 swept out, had to dare it in a whisper, backed by 
 her most angelic smile. 
 
 " Oh, dear Mrs Saxon ! Surely that was not 
 Mr Spurr himself the travelled-looking gentleman 
 who stood here just now ? Of course not ! " 
 
 "Just now?" She seemed to reflect. "Yes; 
 that was Mr Wilfred Spurr whom you saw." 
 
 " It was ! " Carlotta suppressed a quivering gasp.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 131 
 
 " And you did not even mention our names and 
 standing as neighbours whose grounds all but 
 meet ! Mrs Saxon ! " 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Barrington, that is just what 
 I did." 
 
 " Did ! And yet he could " Carlotta paused, 
 
 the white teeth sunk in her lower lip. The spasm 
 passed. Her bell-like laugh rippled out clearly 
 enough to make him writhe for his manhood, was 
 he anywhere within hearing. " Ah, to be sure ! 
 So shy ! how often the way with these Colonial 
 gentlemen ! Toronto, I think they said ? Why, 
 of course, Blanche dear, that cannot be so very 
 far from the grizzly bear region ! Imagine ! 
 Good-bye, Mrs Saxon ! Don't fail to let Miss St 
 John know that all our sympathies are with her 
 at this unnerving time ! Thanks, so much ! " 
 
 " It's all right, sir," said Mrs Saxon, tapping at a 
 door farther down. " One little unpleasantness is 
 out of your path. I don't think they're likely to 
 bring any more of that sympathy here for a while." 
 And Wilfred Spurr looked out. 
 
 " Thanks thanks for all ! " 
 
 That far-away look was in his eyes still, and he 
 had pressed his hand to them unconsciously. 
 
 " Don't let the greater trouble eat away your 
 life, sir," she ventured huskily. " That won't do. 
 There's the lunch still lying, and a cup of tea 
 would " 
 
 "In a moment!" He looked away. "You 
 you did not disturb Miss St John just now, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " Not for worlds ! I looked in as I passed, and 
 she still slept on. I was feeling uneasy about her,
 
 132 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 till Doctor Lancing called again. It seemed more 
 like a trance than sleep. I mean, I have seen her 
 eyes open, looking at me so strangely, so piteously 
 as if her brain struggled to work while the body 
 lay exhausted. We got her to take a little 
 nutriment with the draught, just now, but it was 
 not like feeding the living ! . . . There, don't mind 
 me, sir ! She said not a word, and hardly knew 
 what was going on, I'm sure. That pitiful, fixed 
 look of hers up into the doctor's face made me go 
 cold. Are you waiting to ask her anything im- 
 portant, sir? If so, spite of the doctor, you 
 shall " 
 
 "No no! I was only wondering whether 
 whether she had been able to leave her room at all 
 to-day. I can wait. Thanks, I want nothing I 
 mean, I'll go straight now and have the lunch. 
 Don't let the servant wait at table I want nothing 
 of that now ! " 
 
 She hung back a moment longer. Her voice 
 changed. She was looking at the clock against 
 the left-hand wall the clock as tall as a man. 
 
 " I've thought, and thought," she whispered. " I 
 lived it all over again in a dream last night. That 
 clock stopped dead at the exact moment, you might 
 say, when the last breath was passing from the 
 master's body. It was wound I tried it ; and I 
 never knew it to stop in that way before. You 
 hear how steadily it goes tick-a-tick ; tick-a-tick ! 
 
 No, I'm not superstitious in the least, but " 
 
 She saw the shadow sweep his face " Your lunch, 
 Mr Spurr, this moment ! " 
 
 He obeyed. One hour later he was back alone 
 in the same room, the door closed. It had been
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 133 
 
 known as the library, because the few books the 
 dead man had cared to possess for show purpose s 
 were ranged on dark shelves there ; but it offered 
 nothing more definite to an investigating mind than 
 the same man's maze had done. 
 
 Nothing ! He had tapped and tried every 
 likely-looking panel, and fluttered the pages of 
 every bound volume he scarcely knew why. To 
 and fro he paced in the silence of the afternoon 
 sunlight, his jaws drawn and set, his hands clenched 
 tightly behind him. A hollow, unavailing thought, 
 but he found himself breathing it desperately more 
 than once " If only the dead could speak one more 
 word ! " 
 
 Reduced to one simple problem, what did it 
 mean ? what could it have meant? 
 
 Down at the heart of the seething crucible there 
 lay one concrete morsel of fact. 
 
 Assuredly armed with part or the whole of 
 Spartan Loder's revelation, the spurious nephew 
 had descended those stairs with a purpose. 
 Unexpectedly balked by a locked door, by the 
 sudden arrival of the man he had most cause to 
 dread, he had escaped by the adjoining apartment. 
 That one fact must always stand out clear : his 
 objective had been the library this room, and no 
 other. To obtain a paper, he had whispered. But 
 that might be a pretext coined in the throes of the 
 moment. What was the mute secret of this room ? 
 
 Think as he might, search as he might, the same 
 haze of hideous intangibility remained thick over 
 it all. Another haze the blue one of dusk creep- 
 ing across the park, found him still staring into 
 the blank eyes of the mystery. All through those
 
 134 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 last twenty-four hours he had been drawn on and 
 baffled at every turn. 
 
 He abandoned it for that day, at any rate. 
 He sat down at Spartan Loder's writing-table and 
 wrote swiftly a long letter. It was addressed to 
 Mr Crewe, the lawyer in London, and it ended 
 with these words : 
 
 "We are face to face here with a deep and 
 growing horror. More than all, I realise that in 
 taking that journey which ended here, I have un- 
 wittingly brought a shadow into the life of a pure 
 and sensitive woman my late uncle's ward. I 
 must be cleared in her eyes. For her sake, more 
 than for my own, I intend that the mystery shall 
 be stripped away in every detail. What, in my 
 present position, would you counsel me to do 
 that need not appear in every newspaper in the 
 land?" 
 
 He waited until it was definitely dark, and then 
 slipped quietly out to find Felcote town and post 
 the letter with his own hands. He found it easily, 
 and walked twice along the straggling main street. 
 More than once he had to smile inwardly, as 
 passers-by turned breathlessly to stare after him, 
 or a fugitive whisper shot past his ear. He was 
 past feeling the thrill of an unpleasant leap into 
 notoriety. And then, of a sudden, he realised that 
 another night had really come that the shop 
 windows were darkening one by one. He turned 
 back out of Felcote with the impression that it was 
 a picturesque little town only marred by one thing 
 its inhabitants. 
 
 The hall clock hands stood at half-past nine when 
 he reached the house again. Sophie, the pleasant-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 135 
 
 faced maid who answered his ring, had something 
 to say, and gabbled through it nervously. 
 
 " If you please, Mr Spurr, I was to be sure 
 and say that Mrs Saxon has taken train across to 
 Barrowdene on business, and might be a little 
 late, if you don't mind, sir. The last local train 
 from there is always behind time, sir. The fly will 
 bring her from Felcote. I think that was all I had 
 to say, sir." 
 
 She could know nothing, but the hastiness with 
 which she fled back for the servants' quarters 
 struck an involuntary chill through him. They 
 would watch him from somewhere, of course. He 
 stood smoking for a while, in a hush so complete 
 that he could well-nigh have fancied himself alone 
 in the big house. Then, quite automatically, with- 
 out any thought of sleep, he turned to go up to his 
 own room. He had a question to fight out in this 
 silence a question that he had stubbornly held at 
 bay till now. 
 
 Was Miss St John's indisposition a woman's 
 white lie? Was she, for some reason that time 
 alone could prove, playing a part as only an actress 
 could play it ? Had she followed him along the 
 coffin-like paths of the maze that day? If so if 
 so God knew, he could never trust the light in a 
 woman's eyes again ! 
 
 His room lay in the western corridor, that 
 branched to the right from the head of this main 
 staircase. He had reached the top stair and 
 paused, looking around. He would never know 
 why never know the name of the moment's vague 
 instinct but he took a few steps along that 
 corridor to the left. He had heard no sound, no
 
 136 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 footfall upon the soft carpet ; but he was just in 
 time to feel the strangest sensation of his life in 
 time to see a figure, white, slow-moving, Ophelia- 
 like, emerge from the branch passage, and stand 
 still there. 
 
 It was Sheba Sheba St John. 
 
 No sound would pass the man's lips. Perhaps 
 not ten yards lay between himself and the figure. 
 He could never be mistaken a lamp hung from 
 its chain just above her head. It was Sheba. 
 
 Now she had moved an uncertain step nearer, 
 and paused again, her hand half put out like a 
 blind man feeling the way. Her eyes were wide 
 open shining with a fixed, unseeing expression. 
 She was gazing straight past him, yet saw no one 
 nothing save, perhaps, the face and figure focused 
 in her dream. The low, husky word that had 
 risen in his throat was never to sound. He stood, 
 rooted by a thrill of awe and wonder. He knew 
 now. It was Sheba ; but Sheba moving in her 
 sleep. 
 
 Another step another. Now she was so close 
 that he could almost feel the warmth of her body ; 
 and not for his life could he have stirred or spoken. 
 The white, oval, fragile face had the faintest of 
 sad smiles ; her lips were moving in a sort of 
 monotone. 
 
 " Dead ! Dead ! " He caught those two soft 
 words words that wrote themselves upon his 
 memory for ever. 
 
 She would pass him ; she would float down that 
 stair ; a cry of fear might ring through the house ; 
 it was his duty as a man to do something to 
 see that no harm came to her ! A score of thoughts
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 137 
 
 passed through him in so many flashes, and faded 
 as quickly. Sheba had put a hand to her eyes, 
 as if struggling to recall her purpose ; and now 
 she was turning in the same uncertain way. All 
 unconsciously, the man's feet moved him in the 
 same direction. 
 
 Once more she paused in that same spot, by 
 the branch corridor. Her wide blank eyes were 
 turned towards a door farther along the door 
 of the room that had been Spartan Loder's. A 
 slow, quiet, haunting whisper reached him ; a 
 whisper never to be forgotten if he lived a hundred 
 years. 
 
 " She is here. I have seen her. She is here 
 yet. She opened my door, and stole across, and 
 bent over me. And God told me. . . . She knows 
 all, but will never speak. Never speak ! " 
 
 It was as if a wire had coiled tightly in Wilfred 
 Spurr's brain. He had shot out a hand, and dared 
 it almost before he knew, his own voice curiously 
 calm. 
 
 " She knows all ? She is here ? Tell me her 
 name ! " 
 
 A long, quivering sigh ran down the slight, 
 white figure. Then the subdued breath came 
 again, as if she were answering the voice in her 
 dreams. 
 
 " I know it I know it now. She could tell all. 
 Hush ! listen ! " 
 
 For a minute he stood transfixed, watching her 
 lifted hand, listening with her for something that 
 would never sound. Then, as the hand went 
 slowly down, he risked the low, concentrated 
 words again.
 
 138 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " If you know that, tell me her name ! " 
 
 No ! She looked beyond him a moment longer, 
 and then, softly as a breath of summer wind, she 
 was moving back the way she had come along 
 that branch corridor. And nothing, even in such 
 a moment, gave him the right to follow farther. 
 
 In her sleep ! And no one but he might ever 
 know! 
 
 " She is here yet ! . . . She knows all ! ... 
 She will never speak ! " over and over he repeated 
 the haunting words, and then his own : " Who ? 
 What is her name ? " 
 
 He was staring ahead, echoing those words still, 
 when a door clicked gently farther down the 
 corridor. He had but just time to slip back on 
 an impulse from the lamplight into shadow. Out 
 from that doorway leaned a face. It looked both 
 ways intently. A second, and it was gone. It 
 had seen nothing, it had come like an answer to 
 his question. 
 
 The face of a woman whom he had almost for- 
 gotten that day. She was here still Sister Judith 
 Cottrell ! 
 
 It meant nothing nothing he told himself, 
 as he stood out with that deep breath. That 
 sudden surge of vague sensation in him was due 
 to unstrung nerves born of the moment's queer 
 coincidence. Nature's warning ! In seven days 
 he had known only a few hours of sleep. He was 
 losing a hold upon his sanity. It must be that 
 \;ould only be that ! He, of all men. . . . 
 
 He flung off all the stealth suddenly, squared 
 his shoulders, strode forward, and tapped firmly 
 at that door.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THERE was no answer. He drummed with his 
 knuckles again, and knew that a rustle had 
 sounded knew that she had heard. But no voice 
 came back. 
 
 At that moment it seemed monstrous. It 
 maddened him ; it was like a conspiracy of silence. 
 He went to speak, but a sort of three-cornered 
 lump had sprung into his throat. She should 
 answer him ! This growing sense of constraint and 
 concealment was suffocating him. He snatched at 
 the door-handle, turned it, and pushed. It yielded. 
 He strode straight in. 
 
 And she was there, within a few feet of him as 
 he paused. 
 
 She had changed her grey habit for a black 
 one, and knelt by the table, her head down 
 upon clasped hands. Praying? He would have 
 stepped back without a word. He had surprised 
 her in a look of dry-eyed, defiant intensity and 
 dread that sent a tingle of reaction through him. 
 But in the same instant she was upon her feet, 
 self-possessed, drawn up like a queen of tragedy 
 utterly different from the grey, silent woman who 
 had stood back with folded hands from Mr Loder's 
 bedside. * She had been simply the nurse then ; 
 she was simply the woman now. 
 
 " This this is my private room, Mr Spurr 
 Until I go, to-morrow " 
 
 '39
 
 140 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " To - morrow ? " He echoed it involuntarily. 
 " But you will not ! Who says so ? You cannot 
 go like that, until we know what until some 
 understanding " 
 
 " You are in my private room, Mr Spurr," she 
 said again, in a low, deep note of her voice that 
 was like a harp wire set vibrating. " Last night, 
 if you remember, you entered it quite by error 
 or I assume so. It is not error to-night ! " 
 
 "But but Miss Cottrell.am I completely " 
 
 " Don't ! I know what is in your mind. You 
 are thinking me Delilah. You have avoided me, 
 until you could do so no longer. Don't ! I can- 
 not bear more than I have already suffered here. 
 I was mad mad, to speak to you last night as I 
 did to hint in pity that I could help you. I 
 know now. I am going. You have but to say 
 the word. Fling me out like a woman who has 
 schemed. I can bear that but not this. You 
 insult me, by coming in this way, knowing what 
 you know. And you insult yourself forcing 
 yourself to play a part on my account. You shall 
 not ! " 
 
 It had begun in staccato gasps, as her breast 
 rose and fell. It was as if the soul of a woman 
 had been in travail travail that no one outside 
 that room was to suspect. She had calmed 
 suddenly again. She was pointing to the door 
 behind. 
 
 He stared ; he could not take his eyes from her 
 passionless pale face, in which the grey eyes seemed 
 to expand and expand. All that he had come to 
 say slipped from his mind. He simply knew that 
 as a man, after hearing those words, he could not
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 141 
 
 turn and go as he had come. But his jaws worked 
 soundlessly. He could do nothing but put a 
 hand to his forehead and wonder if the mental 
 mechanism within had ceased to act. And still 
 she stood statue-like a woman who waited. 
 
 " Delilah ? You ? " he forced out, in a whisper. 
 " I don't understand. I came I came be- 
 cause " 
 
 She took a quick step. She held both his wrists 
 in a resolute grip. Close into his eyes she looked, 
 as if she had some duty to perform, and would 
 not shrink. 
 
 " You don't understand ? You have never had 
 to enter into a woman's thoughts? You know 
 nothing of the type of woman who can weep for 
 the agony of others, but never for her own ? I 
 tried I did all I could to pave the way for you. 
 I told you that I had been misjudged here, and 
 ever should be. Now you force me to speak. 
 And I will ! even if you despise me for it. For 
 I would sooner ay, sooner bear that than take 
 your love on such conditions ! . . . You need not 
 lie to me now ! I knew you would come to me 
 knew it must be. I was hoping that I could leave 
 the house before you fully realised. But that was 
 not to be ! And now shall I go on ? " 
 
 " Go on ! " Spurr whispered, as her hands fell 
 away. There was no fear that he would not 
 listen. He was like a man held by hypnotic in- 
 fluence, lost to all but the voice of the woman who 
 had induced it. 
 
 " I kept my silence kept it for weeks, against 
 his wish. I gave up my rest, in fear that he might 
 speak of it. I kept them all from his room as
 
 142 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 much as possible as they will tell you in their 
 contemptible indignation. They hated me ; they 
 could not know what I was suffering, and I could 
 never tell them. One man, and one alone, knew 
 of the sword over me and I appealed to his man- 
 hood. Doctor Lancing ! The money was nothing, 
 nothing ! I had no need of it. But the knowledge 
 that a dying man's last wish the thought that he 
 had compelled my promise to give myself to a 
 man whom I had never seen, and who might 
 
 despise me if I kept it " She looked away, 
 
 the slim fingers knotted at her throat. 
 
 Spurr drew a long, deep breath ; but he could 
 not stir. The atmosphere of this room seemed 
 more stifling every moment, but he must endure 
 it. A woman was baring her inmost heart, and 
 as yet only the faintest glimmer of light wavered 
 through his darkness. It was all consonant with 
 the shroud of mystery that had enveloped him as 
 he entered Felcote. 
 
 " I do not despise you. I have no cause," he 
 said, with difficulty. "Will you go on? I wish 
 it. If there is something I must know, let me 
 know, Miss Cottrell ! " 
 
 She had been turning away, as if stung to the 
 depths by something in his chill attitude. She 
 faced him again, speaking in rapid, concentrated 
 breaths, her eyes flickering defiance. 
 
 " Go on ? Why should I ? You are playing 
 \fcith a woman's susceptibilities testing something 
 that any true man holds as sacred before it be- 
 comes his own. You knew ! You have heard ! 
 You put it off until the last moment, when all the 
 household was asleep. You had guessed that I
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 143 
 
 might be gone to-morrow to escape this humilia- 
 tion at your hands yes ! You feared that my 
 pride would lead me to take that final step before 
 you had spoken. Your look, your first words, 
 showed it, as you entered this room unbidden 
 unbidden ! Yesterday I made my great effort. 
 I tried to appear as if I knew nothing as if I 
 had no cause to feel shame or shrink from you as 
 the man whose life was to be chained to mine. 
 But I could keep it up no longer. Let me go ! 
 Give me the paper that Mr Loder wrote his words 
 upon let me destroy it, and set you free ! Don't 
 fear ; Doctor Lancing would never speak ; it 
 would be buried for ever between our three selves ! 
 I can do all that, and pass out of your life as I 
 came into it. I want no man's forced love a 
 love that is to be a halter about his neck ! But to 
 stand here and have to speak, to know that you 
 avoid and loathe me because your uncle chose to 
 think of me as a ministering angel in his pain 
 to remain in this house with the man to whom Mr 
 Loder gave me as a wife without my woman's 
 wish or consent " 
 
 The hard sob shook her from head to foot. 
 She went back from him, her straining arms put 
 out, her teeth clenched upon the rest. 
 
 A pause. Such a pause ! Through Wilfred 
 Spurr's brain there went boom after boom of 
 sound, as if waves were beating against the house 
 foundations. Afterwards he could recollect, as 
 the booming sound died down, looking around 
 the room and noting an inner door in the corner 
 the door that would lead into Miss Cottrell's 
 sleeping apartment. He recollected that his
 
 144 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 thoughts veered back to Sheba St John won- 
 dered vaguely if she had reached her room in 
 safety, and how long it could be since he had 
 ascended that staircase to go to his own. Then 
 he found himself speaking, quietly, tensely, with- 
 out bitterness. 
 
 "You say that I knew? Do I appear am I 
 acting like a man who knows that the woman 
 facing him is placed in such a position as you 
 suggest ? Answer that ! " 
 
 " You knew ! " she repeated faintly. " What 
 else could I think ? You have seen the paper ; 
 you know what he had written what his death- 
 bed desire was. Or you have heard it from 
 Doctor Lancing. I waited I waited all day, 
 fearing the moment, and yet knowing it was my 
 woman's duty to let you speak. For for unless 
 you obeyed him the money was left away from 
 you. And, for all I could know, you might accuse 
 me of being something less than a woman if I 
 robbed you of that, by by refusing to take you 
 on those conditions. You knew ! If not, if not 
 God help me ! God help me for being the first 
 to tell you ! The shame of it ! Oh, strike me 
 down if you will free yourself of me in that way ! 
 I have no wish to live to take love that is love 
 in name only ! " 
 
 " Miss Cottrell ! " He could say it warningly, 
 imploringly. He glanced back to know that the 
 Nioor was quite closed. He put out his hand 
 almost calmly. " One moment ! I ask you to be 
 calm I expect it. Put yourself in my place to- 
 night, and " 
 
 She had been moving toward that inner door.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 145 
 
 She faced round slowly, her face stony, accusing, 
 and hopeless, her pale lips twitching. 
 
 " No ; put yourself in mine ! If I were what you 
 are thinking me, I could bear it. But not when 
 I know it was unsought that I had kept my 
 silence an hour too long because I had hoped and 
 prayed that you might never know of his wish. 
 No ! There is a limit even to woman's endurance, 
 and you bring me to it bring me to it to-night ! 
 Let me go ! " 
 
 It died off. She was feeling out to find the wall 
 her shaking hands just missed it. He must 
 step instantly from the room, or he must remem- 
 ber the traditions of his sex. 
 
 He sprang. He put one hand to her swaying 
 figure, and caught her groping fingers with the 
 other. 
 
 " Don't ! " he begged huskily, for some unknown 
 reason shaken to the depths of his man's nature. 
 " For God's sake, don't let me have more on my 
 mind to-night ! Whatever it all means whatever 
 is to happen don't make it harder to bear now. 
 If I have said anything, done anything, to wound 
 you, forget it. You shall ! " 
 
 The long quiver that answered shocked him, 
 silenced him. What was he doing? Holding 
 almost tenderly in his arms the woman who had 
 waited for him to loathe her the woman who, if 
 his ears had heard aright in this hour, had been 
 thrust upon him as his soul mate for all eternity 
 Judith Cottrell, his uncle's nurse ! 
 
 "Judith Cottrell ! " he echoed sunkenly to him- 
 self. She lay passive in his embrace. It was 
 almost as if Fate had worked to bring about 
 K
 
 146 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 naturally the consummation that the dead man 
 had desired ! 
 
 Low into her eyes, that had opened slowly to 
 window back his own, he stared. And she seemed 
 to divine his thoughts. The faintness was beaten 
 back. She struggled free. 
 
 " No no ! I ask no pity ! You despise me 
 for what I could not help, and always must. I 
 can go ! " 
 
 " I do not. Before Heaven to-night, I do not ! " 
 Reckless now, he held her back from the inner 
 door as by some unratified right. The muffled 
 drums of destiny were beating in this moment; 
 all conventionality, all artificial restraint, must go. 
 " Will you hear me? If these are your rooms, you 
 have a perfect right to remain in them ; you are 
 not going because of me. Now ! Do I under- 
 stand that Mr Loder expressed a wish that I 
 should think of you as my promised wife ? You 
 mean that my own uncle, whom I was not to see 
 alive, left a paper giving me his money on that 
 stipulation? Then, I swear to you that I know 
 nothing of it. I swear to you, as frankly as I could 
 have done yesterday, that I should never dream 
 of accepting money which held any self-respecting 
 woman to such a bondage as as the bondage of 
 my arms in marriage ! " 
 
 The tremor had passed. She was silent, with a 
 strange silence. The fathomless grey eyes looked 
 past him as at handwriting upon the wall there. 
 Slowly, step by step, Spurr went back. He was 
 sure of himself now. He had not even attempted 
 to realise. 
 
 "You are quite safe! You need never have
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 147 
 
 feared for my thoughts or the world's thoughts. 
 Where is the paper ? He gives you to me ? By 
 what right? How could I dream of looking to 
 you to accept a loveless marriage, even for the 
 greatest fortune known ? Don't be silent I would 
 sooner you struck me in the face for that mere 
 suggestion ! " 
 
 " Loveless yes ! " She fastened upon that word. 
 She repeated it to herself, as she stood there so 
 still, all the vehemence gone. "You ask me how, 
 and why ? I can only answer you in truth I can 
 only say that he never seemed to fear that the 
 love would not come to you ! " 
 
 Her voice had sunk almost to nothing. Some- 
 thing in her waiting attitude, in her sudden pas- 
 sivity, seemed to send a tremor through the man 
 in turn. He went back yet another step, his tone 
 almost cold. 
 
 " Then he wronged you wronged us both. Let 
 it end here, between us, to-night. Let the weight 
 of it slip from you. For no one need ever know. 
 
 If such a paper exists " 
 
 " If? " she repeated, between teeth that had come 
 together. " If? What can you mean ? It was 
 there. He wrote it with his own hand. Doctor 
 Lancing saw it, and will tell you so. It cannot be 
 concealed. The evil is wrought, and can never be 
 undone not in that way ! " 
 
 Not in that way ! The soft words reached him 
 with a significance that no man could mistake. 
 Her eyes watched him watched him as if ready 
 to light up with tender passion or a tigerish de- 
 fiance according to his answer. Vaguely he read 
 it all. She had allowed herself to be carried by
 
 148 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 eagerness just over the border-line of prudence. 
 How much of it might be true, how much of it 
 might be the effort of a superb actress whom he 
 could admire while he scorned, he would not stay 
 now to ask himself. He was perfectly calm now, 
 but he was upon the one firm strip of ground in a 
 quaking morass. He kept his face a mask. He 
 bowed courteously. 
 
 " Set your mind at rest, Miss Cottrell. I shall 
 respect as a sacred confidence what you tell me 
 to-night. I am prepared to learn that my late 
 uncle's pervertion of ideas did not stop at that ; in 
 fact, I am prepared for anything that could 
 happen. Doctor Lancing can act according to his 
 own discretion. I will speak for myself. Should 
 such a paper come to light in due course it will be 
 torn to pieces as it deserves to be ! " 
 
 " And his money ah ! " She had put out the 
 long white arms as if unconsciously. The sharp 
 breath flashed from her lips like a finality. " What 
 of that ? I am to go, knowing that I have robbed 
 you of that ! " 
 
 " Not at all ! You are to remain here as long as 
 you wish as long as is necessary to your pur- 
 poses. Forget all the rest ! Any court of law 
 would find that such a paper had been dictated or 
 written by a person not mentally responsible. I 
 will not keep you longer. I came to this room 
 I came " 
 
 He paused. No no ; he could never say now 
 what he had knocked to say. And she saw it. 
 She had rustled close as his hand reached for 
 the door. Inward despair will sweeten the coldest 
 face. It transfigured Judith Cottrell's face at that
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 149 
 
 moment, as she put her hands upon his shoulders 
 and whispered : 
 
 "You have lied, to spare my feelings. Own 
 that ! Be a man to-night, as I am a woman ! You 
 came here with another purpose, but your courage 
 failed you. You had not expected I should have 
 taken it so to heart Speak ! " 
 
 " I can speak, and quite truthfully," he replied, 
 his own hands drawn back. " I meant to say 
 that I feared Miss St John was ill that she had 
 been left alone in her room. You, as a capable 
 nurse, were the first person I turned to in a diffi- 
 culty as you asked me yesterday to do. That is 
 all ! " 
 
 " All ! " she breathed. She stood so that he 
 could not turn. " Shall I go ? Do you wish to be 
 rid of me in your heart ? Say it, at once ! " 
 
 " What do you imply ? " he whispered. He was 
 growing sterner, and yet he felt himself weakening 
 under those eyes. 
 
 " You know ! Tell me what it is to be between 
 us. As I am placed, you must. It is my woman's 
 right you shall ! " 
 
 " Well, then " he put back her arms steadily 
 " if what I have said is not sufficient, I can only 
 add that it rests between yourself and Miss St 
 John how much longer you remain in this house 
 her house ! " 
 
 He went out. He would not look back. The 
 clear air of the corridor seemed to fan him like 
 a cold wind ; he felt like one who had stood in a 
 drugged chamber. He had turned down the 
 western passage. His hand was upon the door of 
 his own room when he heard that swift rustle
 
 150 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 of skirts and the staccato, commanding breath 
 behind : 
 
 " Mr Spurr ! One last word ! Hear this ! " 
 
 He could have feigned a deafness, and escaped ; 
 but it was not in him to think of that. He swerved 
 round. She had followed him paused by the 
 window some feet away, through which a shaft of 
 the moonlight struck across her face. A queer 
 sensation crawled through the man's veins a 
 prescience of trouble deeper than he could realise 
 to-night He found himself listening in sick fear 
 for the opening of some door, to tell him that her 
 words had been overheard. 
 
 " One word ! " she panted. " It rests with you, 
 and you alone. You have my heart's secret 
 wrung from me in that moment of weakness. If 
 you hate me utterly for coming here to say that, 
 remember that it was you who led me to to know 
 that I had a heart ! " 
 
 He was dumb. He could only wait for the next 
 withering, entreating breath : 
 
 " You you allowed me to speak to think that 
 you knew all ! You spoke last night as though 
 as though you understood. God ! how shall I put 
 it ? And then you thought again. You had seen 
 another woman's face here. Need I name her? 
 You had seen the face of a woman who had set 
 herself pledged herself to gain your affections. 
 Yes ; you have led me into the most terrible posi- 
 ^ tion that a woman can know. And now I am to 
 go!" 
 
 One more pause. Then the man found his voice, 
 and answered. 
 
 "So be it, Miss Cottrell. Perhaps it would be
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 151 
 
 best for all concerned best if we let this matter 
 end as it began. I have nothing more to say 
 although until this happened I had much to say 
 to you upon other questions. Let them go ! I 
 am honestly sorry if I ever gave you cause to take 
 up this attitude. That is all." 
 
 " Yes," she whispered. " You're a man ; you 
 can forget it all to-morrow! I'm a woman I 
 never shall ! " 
 
 For one last moment she stood facing him, the 
 moonlight playing over her half-smiling, scornful 
 face. Then then the swish of her gown was 
 dying away down the corridor. 
 
 No one had heard. No one would be likely to 
 know. And yet the words had been spoken, and 
 could never be taken back !
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 GLOAMING! Gloaming, filled with the scent of 
 stacked hay and sweetbrier, heavy with the breath 
 of folding poppies divinely hushed save for an 
 occasional distant gunshot or rattle of wheels, the 
 laugh of homing workmen, the bay of a hound in 
 some covert. 
 
 Away inland, the furnace chimneys at Barrow- 
 dene were sending up crimsoning pillars of smoke 
 against the sky. Here, down in the hollow, Felcote 
 lamps were beginning to twinkle and cast shadows ; 
 but from that picturesque point where the road 
 took its first dip downwards, softest amber glory 
 could still be seen dying behind the woods. Its 
 reflection caught upon a stately red-brick villa 
 with white facings, standing in splendid isolation 
 well back from the main road. Words cut into 
 a burnished name-plate could be clearly read 
 " Doctor Gilbert Lancing." 
 
 And a woman had paused to read them. 
 
 Tall and slender, with the swift, sinuous grace of 
 refinement, and walking as with a fixed purpose, 
 she had halted close against the brier hedge in 
 front. Her intent gaze moved along to the wide 
 bay window on the left. A flame of light had just 
 shot up in there, and for an instant the interior of 
 the room was laid bare. Then some hand had let 
 slip a rose-coloured blind and shut it out. 
 
 The watching woman half turned, one hand 
 
 152
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 153 
 
 plucking meditatively at the strip of velvet around 
 her throat, her thin lips curved in the suggestion of 
 a bitter smile. Then then a tremble had run 
 through her from head to foot. 
 
 From that wide room just eclipsed a sudden 
 ripple of music had come. Skilful, confident 
 fingers had swept the length of a piano keyboard. 
 Now back again, with alternating minor chords 
 that rang out as with a sense of power and 
 triumph. The flood of true notes swelled and 
 swelled, like a crescendo prelude to the outburst 
 of some waiting choir to glide softly into one of 
 the simple, wailing waltz melodies. A man's voice 
 struck in, a full, practised tenor voice. 
 
 She listened for the words, her face a study, her 
 breast as still as though no heart beat within. 
 Now there came a lull. She waited a minute, 
 then caught up her skirt, took a swift little rush 
 between rhododendron clumps toward the door, 
 and pressed the bell-push. She put her ear to the 
 glass panels. A man's rich voice inside, that had 
 been rising in a laugh, broke off as the electric 
 bell sounded. A pause ; then the door went back ; 
 a trim maid appeared. The eyes of the woman 
 outside scanned her coldly, contemptuously, 
 through the veil meshes. 
 
 " Well ! " she breathed sharply. " I cannot see 
 your master out here ! " 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon ! Step this way, please. 
 What what name shall I give ? " 
 
 " None ! Why should you ? I might be an 
 utter stranger ! " 
 
 " Yes, madam. But he he expects me to know 
 the name before I knock."
 
 154 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "Ah!" She gave a low little laugh. "Sister 
 Judith Cottrell, you can tell him." 
 
 " Ay, of course ! Excuse me for not recognising 
 you, miss. You you looked so different in this 
 light ! " 
 
 She disappeared. Sister Judith, always a woman 
 who could wait, was not the one to follow her. 
 There was a suppressed sound of voices, the soft 
 closing of a door two doors and then the maid 
 reappeared, slightly breathless. 
 
 "Could you possibly leave it for another time, 
 miss ? Doctor Lancing happens to be engaged." 
 
 " Very well ! I can stand here and await his 
 pleasure." 
 
 " I mean, it was my mistake, miss. The doctor 
 is not in just at present." 
 
 Judith Cottrell's cold, erect figure turned in the 
 twilight of the waiting-room. Her low, level voice 
 gave no note of doubt or surprise. 
 
 " I see. Perhaps I will not trouble him, after 
 all. Might I ask whose photograph that is? 
 whom it represents, I should say ? " 
 
 The maid stared at her, turned up the light, and 
 peered forward at a rich green plush and gilt 
 frame over the mantelshelf. 
 
 " That ? Why, isn't it Miss St John, the young 
 lady up at the Manor ? " 
 
 " Really ? To be sure, yes ! I thought there 
 was a likeness, and yet I couldn't quite understand 
 miss St John's picture being here. Thank you ; 
 good-evening ! " 
 
 She moved out in her tranquil, self-contained 
 way and paused again in the same spot by the 
 hedge. Through a still cluster of yellow roses she
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 155 
 
 watched that window on the left. Minutes passed ; 
 she had not moved. And then of a sudden it rang 
 out afresh that masterful ripple along the piano 
 keys. As if she could see the man sitting in there 
 Sister Judith put out her hands slowly. 
 
 " Devil ! " she whispered. " And devils make 
 devils ! " 
 
 Back to the house door she was sweeping. 
 This time she used the brass knocker. 
 
 The door fell back. The maid stared into the veil. 
 
 " Thank you ! Doctor Lancing is in now, and 
 will see me." 
 
 Just that icy, commanding little breath, and she 
 was moving past down the passage, and had tapped 
 at the door on the left. The watching maid stood 
 with parted lips. Sister Judith's manner was the 
 manner of the Death Angel come with a call. 
 
 "Eh?" came Gilbert Lancing's bland voice, 
 tinged with impatience. " What is it now ? " 
 
 No answer. Sister Judith, her veil thrown up, 
 stepped back and watched the maid. It might 
 mean nothing ; but it was a fixed freezing ex- 
 pression that numbed any sound just then. 
 
 " Confound it ! " rang out from the room. " I 
 say, who is there ? " 
 
 And this time the level, passionless voice replied 
 for itself: 
 
 " Merely a woman. Someone you did not think 
 to see." 
 
 He took two leaps, threw back the door, and was 
 staring down into those deep green-grey lakes the 
 eyes of Sister Judith Cottrell. It was a shock ; a 
 red wave of anger ran up into his fair, delicately 
 carved face.
 
 156 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " Hush ! " she said quietly. 
 
 And he bit his lip, remembered himself, and 
 bowed deeply. 
 
 " Miss Cottrell ? Forgive my utter surprise and 
 seeming rudeness ! " 
 
 "Yes?" she said, watching him. "That will do 
 very well for the servant to hear ! " And he turned 
 to the wide-eyed maid : 
 
 " Don't stand staring. My mistake you can go ! " 
 
 His consulting-room was opposite. He opened 
 that door and went in. He tiptoed back, and 
 beckoned. But the coldly still figure had not 
 moved. 
 
 " Oh no, thank you ! " Looking at him, she 
 seemed to suffocate a little laugh. " I come to-night 
 as a guest, not as a patient. At least, I am a 
 patient and it may need all your cleverness to 
 heal me ! " 
 
 His blue eyes were blank as he ushered her into 
 the handsome room with its rose-coloured blind, 
 its white and gold furniture, its subtle scent of 
 Turkish cigarettes, its atmosphere of fastidious 
 refinement. Now the door was closed, and the 
 world shut out. He was so far lost to himself 
 that he forgot even to push forward a chair, 
 
 Mechanically Sister Judith unclasped her dust- 
 cloak. It slid down to her feet with a silken rustle. 
 She stood with her back to him, in the attitude of 
 one whose purpose was so deep that for the moment 
 he would not trust herself to speak. Possibly, 
 too, there was a back-rush of memories too ex- 
 quisitely bitter-sweet to be mastered in an instant. 
 
 Then she slowly wheeled round, with a low, 
 smiling irony that cut the silence like a knife.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 157 
 
 " Yes ; you shall receive me for once as, not so 
 hopelessly long ago, you would have given up your 
 hope of hereafter to receive me. And it may de- 
 pend upon you to-night whether I choose to bury 
 all my illusions in one grave, or whether I drive 
 you out of Felcote and follow you over the world 
 like the shadow of my dead self. For once in 
 your golden career you will leave your bed of 
 down. You are face to face now with a woman 
 whom you took to the edge of a precipice and 
 hoped to leave there. Understand, Gilbert ? " 
 
 "It is plain enough for a beginning!" he said, 
 clearing something from his throat. 
 
 He stood, as if watching a claw that lay sheathed 
 in velvet. She was glancing around his room, her 
 lips curving as she took in its superb, artistic mo- 
 dernity. Then, as if to break the strain, he moved 
 towards a table. A dish of walnuts lay there ; he 
 placed one between the silver nutcrackers. And 
 the crackling sound at such a moment seemed 
 to send a blasting flame of passion through the 
 woman's body. With a moan she swerved round 
 to face him, stripped of all her self-possession, her 
 voice thin and strained. 
 
 " Speak ! You threatened me, once ; threatened 
 me in your man's superior strength ! Speak to me 
 now as a woman who has fought and suffered till 
 there is only one alternative to death itself! How 
 dared you deny me you ! " 
 
 " I had to. I thought it wisest for your own 
 sake," was the careful reply. 
 
 The fear of something had given him back the 
 deadly coolness that was his chief asset. He was 
 able now to look straightly at her.
 
 158 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " What ! " she had breathed, creeping nearer till 
 her breath struck upon his face. He seemed to 
 know that, did he flinch, the gloved hand would 
 strike where her breath had struck. " What ! How 
 dared you shut me out with the paltriest lie in 
 existence ! What am I but what you have made 
 me? What is there in me that you would fear to 
 discover in in a woman whom you hoped to 
 marry ? Speak ! " 
 
 "When you are calm, I will." He flicked a 
 speck from his snowy arch of shirt-front, from the 
 centre of which flashed a tiny diamond. " Where 
 a woman allows herself to speak in such terms a 
 man may be pardoned if he forgets her sex. I left 
 things going on very smoothly, I thought ; I had 
 done my part. The risk I ran in saving you from 
 discovery in the plantation was enough for one 
 lifetime, I think ! " 
 
 " And mine was nothing ! I risked nothing in 
 stealing back from his pocket at dead of night the 
 thing that might have damned you no ! Your 
 risk was taken in mortal fear. Mine was inspired 
 by the thought that, whatever you are to-day, you 
 are the man who once stole the bloom from my 
 cheeks ! There, take it ! " She threw down the 
 snapped fragment of gold chain. " Yes ; put it in 
 your desk make sure of it ! And make sure of 
 my silence before I leave this house ! " 
 
 "Why did you come here?" he blurted out 
 thickly. "What have I done that you should 
 jeopardise my position by this mad, melodramatic 
 visit ? " 
 
 " You have done nothing nothing ! And your 
 inaction was a more despicable crime than your
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 159 
 
 worst action. You thought to drop me, like a bad 
 memory. You have burned all my letters without 
 answering them. Once you knew I had failed, you 
 had no further use for me. You hoped that I 
 should vanish from the scene altogether. You 
 denied me just now because you feared me ! " 
 
 " Fear ! " he sneered. " You, of all women, 
 should know that I have a professional etiquette 
 to guard here. I am not a slave to anyone who 
 chooses to ring my door-bell. I had given the maid 
 certain instructions, and she was bound to abide 
 by them." 
 
 " Bound to lie to order yes ! " she whispered, 
 with a strange little laugh. " We are all on one 
 level all liars I am aware ; but even a liar can 
 pick his method. Not that I am in the least 
 surprised. A fire once dead can never be fired 
 into life again. Yet, if I were a man in your place 
 to-night, I should writhe to hear any woman 
 flinging such a taunt of meanness in my face. 
 Being an artist, and so clever, you feel the sting ! " 
 
 " Silence or go ! If you dare to " 
 
 " Hush ! " She put up her hand with a scorn so 
 deep that it had acted like oil upon the surge of 
 her own passion. " Not another word on that 
 point. You threatened me once before ; you can 
 never do it again. I am a different woman 
 now. I know now why you so soiled your white 
 hands by contact with a felony ; why you took 
 advantage of the unexpected ; why you implored 
 me commanded me to decoy that man into 
 marriage before another woman could do it. It 
 was not that you needed money ; it was not that 
 y ou hungered to see me the contented wife of a
 
 160 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 rich man oh, no ! But that little dream is over. 
 I have failed. We stand to-night you and I as 
 we stood before. Come ! Sit down at that piano, 
 and play ! Ripple those white fingers up and 
 down the keys as you were doing when that 
 woman in the way, Judith Cottrell, listened from 
 the roadway ! Play to me, as only one man in 
 Felcote can play ! Sing something ! " She 
 touched his arm, almost appealingly. " Sing 
 ' Do you remember ? ' ' 
 
 " You are out of your mind ! " he breathed, his 
 hands clenched. 
 
 " No ; I mean it. I was never more sane." She 
 stooped and picked up the dust-cloak. " See ! you 
 have trampled upon it. Is that a symbol ? I mean 
 it all, I tell you. I have no longer any need to 
 keep up a pretence. That other man, whom I was 
 to marry, has shown me in his eyes what he thinks 
 of me. I fall back upon my original purpose 
 upon you. The other was only a superb make- 
 believe ; but this is real. You put the first vile 
 thought into my heart, years ago ; you are re- 
 sponsible now for my future." 
 
 " Pooh ! " he whispered. But he was very white 
 now. 
 
 " No, Gilbert, not ' pooh ! ' Try and realise 
 something deeper. Whatever has happened to 
 kill every vestige of my faith in men, to freeze my 
 heart against all the world, do not lower yourself 
 still further in the vain hope of silencing me com- 
 pletely. I did not come here to remind you, to 
 plead, to appeal to your manhood ; far from it 
 I am past all that! If you knew what is in my 
 mind at this moment, you might shudder. I don't
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 161 
 
 know yet that I shall tell you. Can you give a 
 guess ? you, with your quick brain, that has read 
 so many women's minds ? Try ! " 
 
 Full into the pale blue eyes she stared, as if 
 determined to see them wince. And the strangest 
 smile broke slowly over her pallid features. His 
 finesse was gone his very voice traitorous. The 
 reply had rattled hopelessly in his throat. 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, on that deep, harp-like note. 
 " You are a different man from him the man I 
 was to marry at any price. Your courage, your 
 polish, is a thin veneer. Now the ice is broken, 
 and we see beneath. Just listen to this ! There 
 is in nearly every woman a measure of badness 
 desperate resource in an emergency. It lies deep, 
 is seldom suspected, and may never make itself 
 felt unless some man's utter selfishness has called 
 it forth. I never respected you I realise it now. 
 I was a fool ever to allow myself to care for you, 
 to let you dazzle my truer instincts to let you 
 lead me on to this precipice. It has gone now ; I 
 have put it all away ; were you to fall upon your 
 knees and beg me to forget, I should smile ! But 
 the sting of the memory is alive still, and it must 
 account for all. I can never be a trusting woman 
 again, with a woman's precious illusions ! Never ! 
 I must suspect everyone of a motive. I must 
 always recollect that I could play the part of 
 Delilah to perfection. There is no real warmth, 
 no life, in the sunshine for me ; every day might 
 be grey and sad, for all I notice. There is no 
 future only the past. Oh, God, when a woman 
 loses all faith and hope ! " 
 
 To and fro over the white drugget she had been 
 L
 
 162 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 moving, the cloak trailing and rustling behind her. 
 She came to a dead pause quite close, her half- 
 closed eyes seeming to read under their lashes 
 into his very soul. 
 
 "And, after all is said, the woman is always 
 brought back to that one point what does it 
 matter to the man ? And then her heart hardens 
 again, and suggests a step further, and so the 
 work goes on. You ! what do you care at this 
 moment? What will you whisper when I am 
 gone? Two words, maybe 'Damn her!' And 
 then you will take an extra glass of something 
 from the sideboard, and curl your moustache, and 
 go about smilingly to meet the world that believes 
 in you. And to-morrow you will laugh at the 
 comedy of last night ! How little you understand 
 my long fight against myself against this gnaw- 
 ing, growing hunger for revenge my approaching 
 revenge upon the woman to whom I owe it all ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 GILBERT LANCING, the most successful man in 
 Felcote, held his breath until the muffled shriek of 
 a distant flying train had died away. Then he 
 walked stiffly to the door, glanced out, listened for 
 awhile, and closed it again. It had gained him 
 the time he required. If a growing fear palpitated 
 beneath his bland insouciance she was not to see it. 
 
 " Now ! " he said. " I have heard you out, I hope. 
 And just possibly others have heard something of 
 it, too. Very well ! Whether you know it or not, 
 you came here to-night to terrorise me perhaps 
 to blackmail me. To show you how frightened 
 I am I have taken the key from that door. I'm 
 going to keep you a little longer. While you are 
 unbosoming yourself, you shall go a little further. 
 You shall make it clear in what way Gilbert Lancing 
 has ever wronged Judith Cottrell ! " 
 
 " How suavely, now neatly he can put it ! " she 
 said, half to herself. " The professional polish is 
 over all ! Some women might be tempted to 
 admire you still, spite of themselves ! " 
 
 " But not you eh ? You are too deep, too far 
 gone, for that ; you have owned it. I want an 
 answer to my question before you leave this house 
 to do your mischief. Then, perhaps, you will see 
 to what extent the man cares ! " 
 
 " I understand." The calm, unnerving little 
 laugh, a new thing in itself upon her lips, went 
 163
 
 164 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 across the white and gold room. " You think you 
 can brave it out. You want to be sure there is 
 nothing to link my actions with your suggestions. 
 I have played my part wrongly again ! I should 
 have held myself in check yet a little longer ; it 
 left you secretly uneasy uncertain as to the ex- 
 tent of my hold upon you. But now that I have 
 spoken out and defied you, I make you at once 
 master of the situation. A woman who drops her 
 mantle of pride, and begs bare justice from the 
 man who owes but cannot be compelled to give it, 
 becomes at once a thing of the past in his eyes. 
 No ; you have never wronged me ! Let your 
 listeners hear that. Wronged? It is only the 
 empty word a woman uses when she realises that 
 her life is to be a hell of struggle to forget ! " 
 
 " Pshaw ! " He tilted back his head and laughed 
 right out. " That will do ! That talk is obsolete 
 this is a night in the twentieth century ! You 
 can go ! " 
 
 She watched him as he sauntered across to a 
 sideboard, where lay an open box of cigars. He 
 picked one out, and crackled it critically against 
 his ear. 
 
 "Was it one of those that you smoked in the 
 plantation that night ? " she asked quietly. " Do 
 you think he would recognise the scent again ? 
 Do you think that, strange as he was to the place, 
 he had any suspicions ? He may even have guessed 
 it was himself I was to marry, eh ? " 
 
 " I am not listening," he said, as he struck a 
 match. 
 
 The cigar was never to reach his lips. A hand 
 suddenly dashed it away ; the same hand swept
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 165 
 
 down and scattered the boxful. She trampled 
 upon all within her reach, and he dared not pre- 
 vent the ruin. He quailed palpably as she swung 
 him round as the blazing grey eyes stared into 
 his. 
 
 " There ! You shall listen now ! Your question 
 shall be answered in full! Wronged me? No; 
 that world outside would laugh at the bare idea. 
 You simply singled out for your amusement the 
 quiet young nurse who came fresh to the hospital 
 where you first practised. It was never to be con- 
 sidered serious love on your part only a ghastly, 
 grotesque mistake on the part of the woman for 
 seeing it in that old-fashioned light ! You merely 
 wanted to gain scientific experience in the vagaries 
 of the feminine nature the eternal mystery ! 
 When your coolness deepened into aversion it 
 was my place to accept the inevitable. Have I 
 not done that " 
 
 " Be still ! " he put in hoarsely. " You'll make 
 me forget " 
 
 She struck away his arm, and went on in rapid 
 breaths : 
 
 " Have I not done that as no woman ever did it 
 before ? Have I not passed you on the staircases, 
 stood facing you in the sickroom, and never once 
 tried to thrill you with a look or a whisper of what 
 had been ? Reply to that ! Has anyone in all 
 Felcote the faintest suspicion that you once held 
 
 my hands in the twilight, and drew me to you 
 
 But enough ! I have fought night and day to 
 maintain the icy indifference. I succeeded ; but 
 the process has destroyed all that is noblest and 
 best in a woman. And you you have the shadow
 
 166 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 of that fact at your door for ever. You realise 
 what I mean ? " 
 
 " I realise that you are mad," he whispered 
 again. He had tried to smile, but the shine of 
 sweat was on his handsome face now. 
 
 " I succeeded," she repeated ; " but you were 
 never worth a particle of the martyrdom. And 
 at times a flame of fire leaps up within me ah, 
 it would frighten you to see my face then, Gilbert ! 
 It did to-night, when I stood out there and 
 heard you playing so brilliantly, so carelessly. 
 You were quite safe, you thought. You had led 
 me into such a position that I could not expose 
 you without exposing myself; you could play 
 and sing to pass the time. Once more, I abhor 
 you to-night for that most despicable of all things 
 in a man complacent selfishness ! And yet, 
 listen to this ! It is so strange ! and yet some- 
 thing has drawn me to wonder what there could 
 be in another woman that I never possessed. 
 Something has brought me here, determined to 
 know. It is I who have asked a question, and 
 I who will wait for a reply ! " 
 
 She moved back. The cloak was flung far from 
 her once again ; she stood, defiant, her face hard 
 and haggard with the long pent-up scorn and 
 agony of the loveless woman. 
 
 " Yes ; look at me well," she whispered. " See 
 what a change seven years may work in a woman ! 
 Take your time ; no one has called to see you ; 
 no one would dream of disturbing a great doctor 
 in his privacy ! I am going to bring you to your 
 knees, and soon you will know why. Come I This 
 other woman what is the secret of her lasting
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 167 
 
 spell over you? Is it because some superior 
 insight has enabled her to value you at your true 
 worth ? I wonder ! " 
 
 "Judith, be warned!" he could only mutter 
 sunkenly. And she lifted her finger. 
 
 "Hark! he called me 'Judith'! That was a 
 voice from the dead a voice that I knew years 
 ago. 'Judith'!" 
 
 "Will you go?" He flung up a shaking arm. 
 "If you wish to ruin me here, knowing that that 
 bell might ring at any moment " 
 
 " Bah ! you would recover your nerve in one 
 second ! Answer my question ! This other woman 
 this wonderful woman I want to know all 
 about it!" 
 
 " Her name ! " he said, with a desperate effort 
 to be cool. " I don't fear your jealousy. If you 
 can name any woman, do so ! " 
 
 " Her picture is there, Gilbert, in your waiting- 
 room. Mine is not." 
 
 " Ah, I see ! " He paced a step or two, and 
 stood with his back to the light. " I thought as 
 much. And a dozen other pictures of ladies are 
 there. What if Miss St John never gave me that 
 photograph? What if I got it indirectly, and 
 paid for an enlargement as a mere work of art ? 
 Does that satisfy you ? " 
 
 Foot by foot Judith crept forward, and laid her 
 hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Will you tell me to-night, as you have told 
 me before, that you have never once asked that 
 woman to become your wife ? " 
 
 He could not. His dry lips parted several times, 
 but no word came. Not to-night.
 
 168 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "At last!" she whispered. "At last I have 
 nailed down your living lie. And now your heart 
 is to be wrung, as mine was wrung ! . . . I knew ! 
 I knew ; although you thought you had blinded 
 me throughout. I heard it from her own lips> 
 a week ago. I heard it from the same lips again, 
 two days later, when her mind wandered in de- 
 lirious dreams. And I had known it in my own 
 heart from the first. Why did I keep so silent ? 
 Because, like a weak fool, I still had one lingering 
 hope that I could hold you to your promise of 
 years ago. I was alone in the world, shunned 
 for my silence, misunderstood by all. I would 
 have taken your name even then, love or no love, 
 if only to spite the world that stones and sneers 
 at the woman passed by ! And and something 
 had happened that same night. Something that 
 you know nothing of something that had left 
 me trembling and light-headed something that 
 made me long for once for a man's strength and 
 brain. You stare ? Ay, you will live to wonder 
 yet at your own blindness that night. I made 
 you wait for me in the plantation. I asked you 
 once more if you were working in the dark to 
 win another woman. And once more you calmly 
 lied to me. You were putting a rope around your 
 own neck. I told you that I had found out some- 
 thing that the man just arrived in Felcote was 
 to be rich. And what was your inspiration your 
 answer? ' Marry him ! There is your life chance ! 
 Gain his heart before he finds out before another 
 woman forestalls you ! ' And I took you at your 
 word never mind why ! I sank myself utterly, 
 and lied, and schemed. It was my last supreme
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 169 
 
 bid for a position in life for revenge upon the 
 the world. And it failed. And now " 
 
 "And now " he echoed in an unconscious 
 
 whisper, in that thick pause while her hand felt 
 at her throat. 
 
 " Never mind ! I was a changed woman from 
 that moment ; I keep my own counsel now. Just 
 this ! You don't believe it yet, but, unless something 
 happens, you have lost your Sheba. How I can 
 feel for you, coward as you are ! " 
 
 Her voice, low and lifeless again now, carried 
 conviction. He could no longer meet her eyes ; he 
 was looking around, as if for a way of escape. She 
 was driving home a cold truth that he had deter- 
 mined not to realise. All concealment was at an 
 end now. The veneer had cracked. 
 
 " And I owe it to you ! " he got out, his voice 
 thin with passion. " That is your revenge. I owe 
 to you every word that has been used to poison 
 her against me ! " 
 
 " Oh no ! Small need of that, friend ! You had 
 never even made an impression upon her woman's 
 thoughts. True, many a woman has ended by 
 loving the very man she loathed at first sight, and 
 quite possibly the persistence of a man like Gilbert 
 
 Lancing might have Hush, listen ! " She put 
 
 up her hand slowly. Through the silence of the 
 night outside came the sound of a muffled beating 
 of drums a volunteer company passing along the 
 Felcote road. " The drums ! " Judith said, as to 
 herself. " The drums of fate your fate and mine ! " 
 The sound died. She roused as from a reverie, 
 " Yes ; your last hope is going down in the scales. 
 The sudden fear of it showed in your face, in your
 
 170 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 voice, when you impressed upon Mrs Saxon the 
 vital necessity that Miss St John should be kept to 
 her room for a week. A week ! You did it cleverly 
 you saw your chance in a flash. By that time 
 the funeral would be over, and a certain person 
 might have gone back to his own business for 
 a time, at anyrate. And every minute that saved 
 your hope of Sheba was precious beyond words ! " 
 
 For a moment he stared at her in real amaze- 
 ment. Then wave after wave of crimson surged 
 up into his delicately cut face. That soft irony of 
 hers had gone to the deepest depths in him. 
 
 " You're not a woman you're a spy ! " rattled in 
 his throat. " You have been that from first to last 
 in that house a paid spy ! I wish to God, at this 
 moment, that I had never breathed your name as a 
 nurse to Mr Loder ! " 
 
 " I quite believe it. It was a cheap, a tactical, 
 kindness on your part ; and maybe it has helped 
 to make Felcote history. Let that pass now. 
 Enough that I intentionally overheard your in- 
 structions, and read their inner meaning. Yes, 
 you're deep ; you scented the possibility of new 
 danger at once. You hope to get her away from 
 Felcote, do you not? In any case, you contrived 
 to keep her as long as possible from contact with 
 the man who is a man, and therefore dangerous 
 Wilfred Spurr ! " 
 
 Quite still he stood, watching. She had chosen 
 ^his strange moment of uncertainty to pick up her 
 cloak, draw it deliberately around her, and hold 
 out her hand for the key he still clutched. His 
 fingers yielded it involuntarily ; the woman was 
 the master now. She was going !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 171 
 
 She had reached the door. She half turned to 
 look back at him, her own face as composed and 
 colourless as ever it had been. 
 
 " One word of warning," she said quietly. " I 
 would not go too far in that eagerness of yours. 
 No doubt you worship the very carpet she moves 
 across ; but it might not be wise to risk a scandal 
 just now. Don't you see, Gilbert? This Wilfred 
 Spurr is watching events very keenly. I see more 
 than you can. He may act upon his own initia- 
 tive. Another doctor, called in quietly, might 
 well wonder what your object could be in pur- 
 posely deadening the girl's grip upon external 
 things ! " 
 
 " A lie ! " He started forward came to a trem- 
 bling standstill again. " You dare to hint that ! 
 She needed all I have prescribed. She had not 
 slept for days ; she was in a state of utter collapse. 
 You know it you call yourself a nurse ! " 
 
 " As you will," was the unmoved reply. " Five 
 of the days are gone, and nothing has happened. 
 Yes ; the Fates are working with you, so far and 
 so, too, maybe, is Judith Cottrell. In a few days 
 more, as far as I can gather, Wilfred Spurr must 
 leave to attend to his farms abroad. What may 
 happen before his return will, of course, depend 
 greatly upon your brain and upon my will." 
 
 One more pause, as for reflection. The man had 
 not moved. His own power for thought seemed to 
 have gone. He could only watch her lips with 
 strained eyes. And presently they parted again. 
 
 " And now you can go back to your piano. You 
 can put it all out of your mind. You can go on 
 picturing yourself at the altar with sweet, dainty
 
 172 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Sheba. Not that the picture will ever be realised 
 . . . unless . . ." 
 
 It died off. Steadfastly past him she was look- 
 ing. It was as if she had timed her bolt for this 
 moment, to bring him nearer humbled, pleading, 
 slavish, in spite of all that had gone before. And 
 it drew him. 
 
 " Unless " he repeated incredulously. " Go 
 
 on!" 
 
 " I was going to say unless I take one more 
 step downward and choose to make it come to 
 pass. For you can never think worse of me than 
 you do to-night ! " 
 
 " You ! " The distrust was plain in his pale 
 blue eyes ; but just as plainly he was in fear that 
 she might slip out of his reach at this point. 
 " You ! You could help me in that ! " 
 
 And Judith smiled a wan, faint smile. 
 
 " Keep cool ; don't be startled, Gilbert ! Re- 
 member that I am now what a man's romantic, 
 'harmless' fascination has made of me. You would 
 not expect me to bear any love for that woman 
 who took my place a fool's paradise though it 
 was ? " 
 
 " You hate her yes ! I know that. Go 
 on!" 
 
 " Just this ! I promise nothing ; but my revenge 
 now could come in that way never mind why. I 
 hold a card in the great game which can swing 
 trm pendulum either way, and which I shall show 
 to no one. If I pledge myself that she shall not 
 become anything more to this Spurr than she is 
 to-day " 
 
 "Spurr! Spurr!" He strode close, to catch
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 173 
 
 at her wrist. " What do you mean ? Why should 
 there be ever anything between them ? " 
 
 " I don't prophesy," she said slowly. " Like 
 yourself, I have had a premonition that is all. 
 I have already helped you once, you know. You 
 wished that no one should enter Mr Loder's room. 
 That was done in order to drive her to appeal to 
 you. Yes, of course ! " 
 
 " And now, you mean to blackmail me for it ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! I cannot explain now ; for the 
 moment you must think what you will ; you 
 would never understand what it is that sways and 
 impels a woman like me. But, if I am willing to 
 risk something to keep her from him, and to gain 
 my own ends. . . . Here ! " 
 
 Stealth indescribable a brooding fatefulness 
 burned sleepily in her eyes as she stooped forward 
 and closed her cold fingers upon his. It was the 
 witchery of a sorceress some suggestion of power 
 and latent devilment that he had never seen in a 
 living, breathing woman before. The blood that 
 had been racing through his veins now only 
 crawled, as in fear. And she seemed to know it. 
 
 " Don't speak or question or wonder ; simply 
 obey ! " she said, in the lulling voice of a hypnotist. 
 " Don't call there to-morrow, nor the next day. 
 You understand ? The lawyer from London will 
 probably be there ; you must give them a clear 
 day for their talk. I can stay on another week 
 two, if I choose. Everything there is a blank a 
 chaos ; no one knows how it is all to end, and I 
 am only a figure in the background. You are 
 sending Miss St John medicine this evening. Let 
 that be the last. Give her her own free will from
 
 174 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 to-morrow night it will not take her far. Call 
 the following day Thursday about dusk, and 
 congratulate her upon the good effects of your 
 advice. You may find her distant, suspicious, 
 hysterical ; but you'll be as coolly courteous as 
 ever. Stay just long enough to remove any vague 
 impression of design, and then " 
 
 For the last time she paused, and seemed to be 
 listening to an inner voice that was prompting her. 
 He could be almost certain that she shuddered 
 under the dust-cloak. He scarcely dared to let his 
 voice sound. 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " Wait ! It is all dark to me as yet. I might 
 even change my mind I'm a woman, you know! 
 There is something that I have to do, and dare 
 not do alone ; you shall help me. Drive away 
 from the house as usual, and stop your car by the 
 holly bushes, as if you had forgotten something. 
 Don't dismiss the car ; I may want it to put 
 miles between myself and that place. Cut across 
 the park to the fir plantation just as you did 
 before. I shall be waiting for you there. Thurs- 
 day ! And one last word don't let me wait 
 there in vain. If you do good-bye to Sheba's 
 kiss ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " WHO is there ? Who is that moving ? " 
 
 " Me, Miss Sheba Sophie ! Oh, have I made 
 a noise ? Don't you know me ? " 
 
 The maid, just tiptoeing away from the blind 
 that she had lowered, drew up still, startled by the 
 awed, quivering question that had come from that 
 shadowy corner. 
 
 " Sophie ! Here, in my room ? But what time 
 of the night is it ? Why am I lying here ? " 
 
 " Lying there? Miss Sheba, you have been ill 
 and might have been much worse. Don't speak 
 like that, miss ; you frighten me. I was not to 
 say anything. You are " 
 
 " I have been ill ? " It came again in the hushed 
 voice of a child dreaming and terrified. " But 
 Sophie, you seem quite different everything seems 
 a long way back ! Come here touch my hand ! 
 Why are you trembling so? What does it all 
 mean ? " 
 
 "Don't, Miss Sheba oh, don't! You surely 
 know ? You were taken ill that same night. You 
 were white as this sheet you frightened us all 
 your eyes were shining and strange. But I was not 
 to let you ask questions. No ; lie back Miss 
 Sheba you must ! I was to be sure and call Mrs 
 Saxon before anything else ! " 
 
 And Sheba, groping for the girl's hands to lift 
 herself, fell back. She lay in the lethargy of slow
 
 176 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 realisation. Her brain alone was at work, booming 
 away as if just freed from some deadening influence. 
 What had happened? Why was the house so 
 quiet the room so unfamiliar? 
 
 Yes ; now she could recall rousing at times and 
 feebly sipping at the cup that Mrs Saxon pressed 
 to her lips. Mrs Saxon had seemed a fairy god- 
 mother, and herself a child struggling to keep 
 awake, but totally unable to do so. Little by little 
 the incredible mist thinned out. She lay staring, 
 ready to give a cry as her mind grasped the horror 
 that still breathed in the background. She could 
 hear again the housekeeper's subdued, kind voice 
 could it have been yesterday, or a week ago? 
 
 " Can you follow me, dearie ? He is to be buried 
 quietly in Felcote churchyard to-morrow. Every- 
 thing is in good hands. You are not to be allowed 
 to worry, doctor says. All you need is sleep." 
 
 Sleep ! was it that ? When was it that the door 
 over there had opened, ever so softly, and a face 
 had looked in at her ? Why had she not screamed 
 out ? It had come nearer nearer till its breath 
 reached her ; and . . . 
 
 " Bless her ! At last ! And looking almost her- 
 self thank God, yes ! " 
 
 It was Mrs Saxon in physical reality. She came 
 hurrying in with lighted candles and a suppressed 
 fever of excitement. Stooping, she framed the 
 *lear oval face in both hands, and kissed it again 
 and again, until it was damp with her tears. 
 
 " I may ! It's as if you had come back again 
 to life ! Why, yes, dearie, don't you know ? You 
 have moved about the room in your dressing-gown ; 
 you have talked to me several times. Once you
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 177 
 
 dressed yourself and were going downstairs I 
 came back just in time. One part of you was 
 awake the whole time the other was asleep. I 
 believe Doctor Lancing thought at one time " 
 
 " What ! " she put in, in a little panting cry. 
 "Has he been here to to me?" 
 
 "Dearie, certainly! What's the matter? He 
 only came twice ; on the first and second day. 
 He was most anxious most thoughtful. You 
 took the final draught just about twelve last night 
 don't you remember pushing my arm away ? 
 And to-day, his note says, if you felt able and 
 desirous, we were to let you move about the house 
 just as you wished. You have lain here a week ! " 
 
 Sheba lay quite still in the arms. Her fingers 
 were tightly entwined ; her dark, velvety eyes 
 seemed to look into space for the answer to some 
 mute question. A week ! 
 
 " There, dear, not that look ! Let it all come 
 back by degrees. They never let a blind man see 
 the light all at once after an operation, you know. 
 You will hear all soon. Why, of course, dearie, 
 to-day is Wednesday ! " 
 
 With a determined cheerfulness Mrs Saxon 
 stepped back to dry her eyes and busy herself at 
 the far end of the room. There was so much to 
 be said that she dare not begin yet. And all the 
 time she could hear from behind that quiet echo 
 of her own last word. 
 
 " Wednesday ! Seven days seven whole days 
 gone from my life ! " 
 
 She turned suddenly on an instinct. Sheba 
 was not lying still between the sheets. Sheba had 
 risen silently and, unaided, drawn on a morning 
 M
 
 178 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 robe and slippers as with some definite purpose, 
 and stood watching the door with a strange ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " Don't stop me don't stand in my way ! " she 
 whispered, thrillingly quiet in voice and manner. 
 " I feel much better quite different ! I shall go 
 downstairs. I can't stay in this room I must 
 see for myself what it all means." 
 
 " By all means, dear, if you feel you can," 
 breathed the startled housekeeper. "But not 
 quite like that you're forgetting! Now, just 
 sip this drain of beef-tea and eat the toast ; and 
 then I'm going to bathe your face and smooth 
 your hair, while you decide which of your black 
 dresses you'll slip on. Why not, pray! No 
 earthly reason why he should not meet you 
 looking as nice and like your old self as possible ! 
 And no excitement, mind ! Whatever is to happen, 
 whatever is behind it all, we must look facts 
 calmly in the face as Mr Wilfred Spurr himself 
 says ! " 
 
 Sheba had sunk obediently into the chair. 
 Something formed and broke in her throat. 
 
 " Is is Mr Spurr here in the house ? " she 
 asked, in the same far-away voice. 
 
 Spurr Spurr! The name sang through her 
 brain. One by one the facts sprang back to her, 
 as she sat so still, her hair fallen in those waves, 
 her eyes softly shining, the loosened robe slipping 
 away from her fair breast and shoulders. She had 
 emerged from a long trance, to find the world gone 
 on without her ! 
 
 " Here ? Dearie, think ! Certainly, he is. Just 
 as if, acting for you, I should have allowed
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 179 
 
 anything different! Where else could he go? 
 Certainly not into Barrowdene or Felcote, with 
 everybody staring and pointing at him. And as 
 for that station hotel, it's a death-trap with its 
 draughts and damp sheets and fierce rats, too ! " 
 
 "Rats?" Sheba repeated, with a tense struggle 
 to comprehend. 
 
 " Rats, dear ! At least, so they used to say. 
 This is his uncle's house, to be sure. I've made 
 his room snug and comfortable with my own 
 hands. I don't know why he preferred to stretch 
 himself on the drawing-room couch last night 
 unless it has something to do with that long talk 
 between him and Mr Crewe. Just bend your head 
 a little, sweet only a little ! " 
 
 " Is is Mr Crewe here, too ? " came the 
 mechanical whisper. 
 
 "Not now, dear. He walked with Mr Spurr 
 as co-mourner not very willingly, I'm afraid. 
 He wouldn't stay for one night. Isn't it strange 
 that poor Mr Loder never seemed to make one 
 solitary friend anywhere ? Ah, and stranger, too, 
 that his nephew should be as sensitive as a woman ! 
 He went up to London on Saturday morning to 
 see the lawyer, and hung about there till Monday 
 only through that sensitiveness, I feel positive. 
 And just imagine ! he had left his trunks at 
 Barrowdene station, and said not a word about 
 them to anyone. And since Monday I've had 
 harder work than ever to get him to sit down to a 
 meal. My heart has ached for him at moments 
 wandering the house and grounds by himself, with 
 no one he can seem to talk to ! He's certainly 
 thinner in face. How can you wonder? Twice
 
 i8o THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 to-day I've had table set for him, and There, 
 
 dearie, your hair looks soft and beautiful. Don't 
 you think you might look at yourself in the glass ? " 
 
 Her lips parted, her eyes closed now, Sheba sat 
 as still as if she had not heard. Her mind was 
 struggling back through the mist to that never- 
 to-be-forgotten night. Try as she would, she 
 could not seem to grasp more than the one fact 
 of the living present. Wilfred Spurr was here 
 here to stay. He had stepped into the shoes of 
 the dead. In that interval all had changed. Her 
 head was sinking forward ; the little moan was in 
 her throat for which Mrs Saxon had intuitively 
 waited. 
 
 Down suddenly went the housekeeper to her 
 knees, both arms locked about the slight figure, 
 her voice cooing softly. 
 
 " Now, my dear Miss Sheba, be a true woman ; 
 I know just what is in your heart. Put it all from 
 you, this moment for ever ! It is the very thing 
 he is dreading night and day your doubt of him ! 
 For long enough it has seemed as if the house 
 were a dark room, so to speak ; now the windows 
 are all thrown open, and the sunlight is going 
 to stream in ! Think of him down there ! He 
 came all those miles to find himself in that terrible 
 position. I have talked with him like a mother ; 
 I have watched his face for hours together ; and 
 I know. The knowledge has left me with a beat- 
 ing heart, I assure you ; because I was secretly 
 fearing never mind what! One thing, dearie, 
 while I think of it: when you see him walking 
 up and down with his fingers locked and twisted 
 behind him, it doesn't mean that he has ever worn
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 181 
 
 handcuffs, or anything of that, but that he wants 
 to say something important. If he is not a gentle- 
 man, dear, you will never meet one ; make up your 
 mind to that And his one constant wish has 
 been that Miss St John shall not worry over any- 
 thing from now ! " 
 
 " But but keep your arms round me a little 
 longer ! I will try, but the thought is there still 
 the thought that perhaps " 
 
 " Hush ! We are leaving that to a Higher 
 Power. It will all be explained in God's time. 
 Let me tell you this : it was purest delicacy, on 
 your account alone, that kept him from calling in 
 the police and causing a great scandal. As I told 
 him : to bring Felcote police here would be like 
 letting bats loose in broad daylight ! " 
 
 " I know I know ! But " Shebamade her 
 
 effort, and slowly rose " But it cannot be kept a 
 secret. It must be known everywhere that some- 
 thing terrible has happened to us " 
 
 " Listen ! " the other persisted gently. " The 
 servants only guess at something wrong. They 
 did not did not see the two men here at one and 
 the same time no one actually saw that! But 
 they're under my eye ; and they know it. Doctor 
 Lancing went off without the faintest suspicion. 
 There remained only Sister Judith ; and I asked 
 her, for the memory of the dead master, not to 
 speak of it to a living soul until the shadow lifted. 
 The real Mr Spurr ? I knew, the moment I came 
 to my senses. If you think back, there was a 
 totally different atmosphere about the two men 
 a something you can't hope to put into words yet. 
 Dearie, you're all ready ! "
 
 182 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 The waves of brown hair were softly coiled. 
 Sheba had drawn on a different robe, and stood 
 still while Mrs Saxon clasped a row of pearls 
 around her slim throat. She looked an uncon- 
 sciously sweet picture, and Mrs Saxon's heart, for 
 some subtle reason, was beating very fast just 
 then. She whispered cheerfully : 
 
 " He is down there in the drawing-room. I I 
 half think he knows. I lit a fire, as it turned 
 chilly. I try to keep him in the house as much 
 as possible after dusk. You see, he asked at once 
 to speak with someone in authority meaning 
 someone who knew the master on the same level. 
 There was no such person, as I told him ; no 
 secretary, butler, or even a valet, to help him. 
 You were the only person to know. It's a trying 
 position, dearie, but I know you will prove equal 
 to it. After all, there may have to be many 
 changes here, and " 
 
 " Yes ; I am quite calm now ! " Sheba stood at 
 the open door, looking out with clear eyes as at 
 another world which she must enter. There had 
 been something more on the housekeeper's lips, 
 but a cough had checked it. " I will see him, at 
 once. He has a right to expect it. A week ! " 
 She took a step, to pause again. " You you did 
 not say that Miss Cottrell was there with him ? " 
 
 " With him ? My dear, you have lost touch 
 with everything ! As far as I know, she has not 
 left her room a dozen times this week. It is 
 awkward for her for all of us ! There is her bill 
 for nearly ten weeks to be made out and settled, 
 and we are not sure yet whether Mr Loder may 
 have left any special instructions in writing. We
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 183 
 
 know nothing ! As far as that goes, there is no 
 reason at all why Miss Cottrell should be brought 
 a step further into the matter. From now, I 
 should think, it becomes purely a family and 
 private affair." 
 
 " In which I should have no part ! " Sheba 
 whispered to herself, as she turned to look along 
 the passage. 
 
 " You ! Miss St John, I hope I am never to 
 hear you say that again. If he chooses to make 
 this his home, of course, you could not remain 
 here very well ; but he'll be the first to realise that, 
 or I'm no reader of men's faces ! Besides, we'll 
 begin to talk about that when when the proper 
 moment comes. I only say, let all slip from your 
 mind to-night save the one fact that you can 
 trust Mr Wilfred Spurr with your life, if need be ! " 
 
 " Thank you thank you, Mrs Saxon ! You 
 have been very, very kind to me. Never let me 
 forget it ! I'll go alone." 
 
 Quietly, steadily, Sheba went down the wide 
 staircase and crossed the hall. All had the same, 
 unfamiliar, unreal look down here. All was quiet, 
 with a sort of expectant, waiting stillness. Her 
 sensation was a curiously strange one as she lifted 
 her hand to tap and enter. He was master here 
 now t 
 
 He was in there. She had heard the notes of 
 the organ in the corner touched once or twice, as 
 by the fingers of a man who knew nothing of 
 music. Now silence again. 
 
 She tapped.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 SHE need not have feared ! 
 
 In truth, every tentative quiver was stilled as 
 she entered the room. She was on the threshold 
 of a new existence at this moment ! that thought 
 left her gloriously calm and prepared. And to face 
 the man, to look once straight into his eyes, was to 
 have fought half her woman's secret battle. 
 
 He had been walking thoughtfully to and fro 
 over the soft carpet. For a second or so he did 
 not grasp that the door had opened and the door- 
 way framed Sheba's figure. 
 
 It was not the man of her dreams. The 
 travelling ulster and broad felt hat, that had 
 seemed an inseparable part of him, were laid aside. 
 She saw the strong, supple figure of a man with a 
 deeply-bronzed skin, wavy hair brushed back from 
 a thoughtful brow, and resolute determination in 
 every movement ; a man who, despite his trimmed 
 beard, could not be a day older than thirty. A 
 man whom until now, it seemed, she had never 
 met. 
 
 In an instant she had taken that much in. She 
 
 Hieard the quick stumble. She found his hands 
 
 gripping hers almost convulsively. The note in 
 
 his voice told her all that this moment meant for 
 
 him as for her. 
 
 " You Miss St John you ! " It came with a 
 break, but steadied at once. " You have come 
 
 184
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 185 
 
 down to see me? You are really and truly as 
 well as you look ? Thank God for that if I may 
 say so ! I have longed for it longed to talk with 
 someone who might help me to see a light in all 
 this darkness. You understand me? You can 
 say so from your heart ? " 
 
 " I do," she whispered. She had not tried to 
 free her hands. " I only hope you will not be 
 disappointed." 
 
 And he sprang away, to draw a chair forward 
 and flick it with his own handkerchief. She knew 
 that he had choked back a sob ; she knew that he 
 could not speak again for a moment. When he 
 faced round he was smiling and different. 
 
 " Come along ! There ! " He gently arranged 
 the cushions as she sat back. His hand had to 
 press hers once again in a gratitude that could not 
 be spoken. As he stood back and turned up the 
 crimson shaded pedestal lamp a little his quick 
 eyes noted the dark lines under the velvety watch- 
 ing eyes the whiteness of the oval face. The 
 blaze of that fire was making itself felt. He 
 sprang once more, and placed one of the balcony 
 doors ajar. And then he stood, as in uncertain 
 awe of the next step. He could not have told 
 why, but the sudden silence of the big room, while 
 Sheba lay back there in the fire's flickering reflec- 
 tion, sank into him as silence had never done yet 
 She looked at that moment a soft, elfin little thing 
 too fragile and too wonderful to be disturbed. And 
 it was the moment for which he had waited so 
 long. 
 
 " Where are you ? " came Sheba's hushed voice, 
 in the pause. Her eyes had closed and shut out
 
 i86 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 everything for the minute. She suddenly re- 
 collected. With a faint recurrence of that old 
 fear she sat up. " Mr Spurr ! " 
 
 He came behind, pressed her softly back into the 
 cushions, and leaned there, looking down into her 
 intent face. 
 
 " I must give you time," he whispered, smiling. 
 " You see, I had not been used to a household on 
 this scale ; I felt completely at a loss. But I have 
 learned to prize a woman's counsel ; I could do no 
 other. Till lately, I had the care and advice of 
 the best woman that ever breathed God's air. 
 Whatever character I have, I owe it to her ! " 
 
 " Mother ? " Sheba found herself breathing. 
 His voice had threatened to break again. She 
 might not be able to realise anything so strange 
 just then and there ; but, spite of those deep-down 
 doubts, she found herself drawn toward him at that 
 point in a way no words could ever explain. His 
 mother ! 
 
 " Ay ! " he said quietly. " Gone now ! I stand 
 quite alone in the world without even, as far as I 
 know, a friend on this side of the Atlantic. But 
 you are not here to hear all that. Don't try to 
 think let me do that. It is right that you should 
 know exactly how I stand at this moment. And 
 then then I have something to ask you." 
 
 As he stood back her lips were quivering. No ; 
 She did not wish to think ! could not bear the 
 pauses ! She looked around, and, woman-like, 
 noticed that a decanter and a pile of sandwiches 
 placed there had not been touched. It appealed 
 to her sharply. She realised for herself. 
 
 " And I, too ! " she said, with a little reproach-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 187 
 
 ful warmth. " I hear that you have refused to 
 eat here, and that you are trying to do without 
 proper rest. Why is that ? What do you wish 
 us to think?" 
 
 And he looked away, his arms crossed stub- 
 bornly, as she turned in the chair. 
 
 " Let that pass now, Miss St John. I I have 
 had no incentive to eat so far. In fact, I meant 
 to tell Mrs Saxon that I should lunch in the town 
 to-day not for any particular motive, believe me, 
 
 but because I am so constituted that " His 
 
 strong face twitched under her scrutiny. With 
 an effort he swung round, langhing huskily. " I 
 will, then, as you wish it ! You should be hostess. 
 That is just as it should be in your own 
 house ! " 
 
 " It is not my house, Mr Spurr." 
 
 Sheba was upon her feet. The moment must 
 come and must not be put off. She beat back 
 finally her hesitation over that name stifled the 
 nameless recollection that her lips had called that 
 other man, that impostor, by the same title. She 
 repeated it steadily, challengingly. 
 
 " It is not my house. Let us be honest, Mr 
 Spurr honest now before anything ! " 
 
 " Not ? " He seemed transfixed by something 
 in her drawn-up figure. " Not yours ? Then, 
 what does it mean ? I understood from the first 
 
 that you that you " A lump seemed to rise 
 
 in his throat. He set down the plate of sand- 
 wiches, and stood stiffly helpless. 
 
 Full into his eyes Sheba looked, with a de- 
 termined bravery that she only realised afterwards. 
 If indeed the true Wilfred Spurr breathed in that
 
 i88 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 room with her, she would know it now and for 
 all time. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me," she said quietly. 
 " Why did you come here ? What brought you 
 all those miles to to a dying man of whom you 
 had known nothing in life ? What did you expect 
 to find here ? Tell me that truly, as you will 
 answer Almighty in a Day to come. Tell me ! " 
 
 The spell of silence, and then his hand had 
 come out. He had not flinched. 
 
 " Not in that way not while you stand in that 
 way. Believe in me first ! " he was saying in that 
 deep voice of his. " You will not ? or you will ? " 
 And Sheba's fingers reached out and lay passive 
 in that long grip. " I will tell you. I have nothing 
 to gain by keeping anything back from you, least 
 of all. What is there to keep back ? When I 
 entered this house I knew no more than that my 
 uncle's name was Spartan Loder, and I had seen 
 him just once fully ten years before. A blank wall 
 of difficulty was put around me in the moment of 
 his death. There was no one I could turn to, here 
 or outside. That is simply how I stand to-night. 
 Of you, Miss St John, I had never heard. But 
 you were here you were ' Miss Sheba ' to all ; 
 and I asked Mrs Saxon the question outright. 
 Like a good soul she told me all. And now 
 and now let me speak of that. Let me be honest, 
 *&.s you say. I have heard a hundred whispers 
 I have shut my ears to them all. I mean to dis- 
 turb nothing here. I ask you to remain mistress 
 of this house, and to let me be simply a guest, 
 because it is imperative that I should remain on 
 the spot. I ask you to trust me, until all is known !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 189 
 
 And then. . . . Miss St John, will you do that 
 can you ? You answered me with a ' Yes ' that 
 first night, without pausing to think ! Why not 
 now ? " 
 
 Yes, she remembered. It all flashed back as 
 she stood. He had held her in his arms implor- 
 ingly begged for that one word from her lips 
 before the night closed in upon the tragedy of 
 his coming. He asked it again now, with an 
 earnestness, a sensitive breathlessness, that brought 
 back the self-same thrill. 
 
 " I say it now ! I do I must ! " she cried, her 
 hands strained together. " I never meant to take 
 it back ! " 
 
 And, as if a load had slipped from his mind, he 
 turned, sank heavily into a chair, and let his head 
 bump down upon the table. He looked up with 
 something like a boy's choke, as her hand came 
 presently trembling upon his shoulder so softly, 
 so tactfully, so eloquent of the tender sympathy 
 that lifts woman to the angels' level in man's hour 
 of darkness ! 
 
 " What had you to fear ? Truth engenders 
 truth," she whispered gently. " Don't let it weigh 
 too heavily. Be strong, be brave ! " She was un- 
 consciously echoing his own words to her in that 
 first spell of terror. Lower still she stooped. 
 " Out of his death may dawn life ! Out of this 
 darkness light ! God knows ! God's hand is upon 
 the man who took your place that night ! " 
 
 Silently she slid the plate of sandwiches close 
 to him, put one to his lips, and then slipped out 
 into the hall. Her brain was whirling perilously 
 after its long suspension ; her heart was beating
 
 igo THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 with a throb that his eyes must have seen. But 
 all that oppressive sense of strain and desolation 
 had oozed away. It only needed the sight of 
 Mrs Saxon, sitting like a faithful watch-dog in the 
 little reception-room opposite, to bring the tears 
 without which a woman cannot live. 
 
 " There there ! Let them come ! Nestle quite 
 close ! Bless you, I'm as comfortable here as in 
 my own room. I kept all the servants away. 
 Well, dearie," she breathed. " He has told you 
 all?" 
 
 " All ? " Sheba looked away with startled eyes. 
 " I I hardly know what he did say ! I wanted 
 to see him eat the sandwiches our sandwiches ! I 
 felt so strange and happy for the minute I slipped 
 away without knowing it ! " 
 
 "Ah, he knows! Trust me, dearie, for reading 
 a man through at the second glance always 
 excepting poor Mr Loder, of course. And now 
 don't be in a hurry ! Now the curtain's lifting a 
 wee bit, let me tell you something. Sophie has 
 just come in. She declares that all Felcote knows 
 that there is some mystery, and the place is in a 
 suppressed ferment. Of course, I pooh-poohed it, 
 and refused to understand her. Don't tell him, 
 Miss Sheba, but there's a story going round that 
 he has started digging in all directions for the 
 master's money. He was stooping over the lawn 
 <>nce or twice, I know ; and I suppose the 
 servants " 
 
 " It's vile ! " trembled Sheba. She could seem to 
 see him sitting there still, his dark head bowed to 
 the table. "He ought to know it he would rather 
 face them. I know it ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 191 
 
 " We shall see ! Well, now, something else 
 I kept it to tell you. The very first day the very 
 moment they dared who should drive up in a 
 landau but the two Barrington girls ? To see you, 
 they said ; but really, of course, to see him, and 
 feel a thrill over the romance of it, and perhaps to 
 well, I won't judge them. ' Poor, dear Mr Loder ! 
 and that poor dear Sheba ! ' they were saying, 
 their saucer eyes bulging out for another glimpse 
 of him all the time. My dear, don't you see it all ? 
 He's just the mysterious sort of acquisition they'd 
 all be scheming to capture for their garden parties 
 and dances. I acted. I dropped one hint, that 
 should last for all time. I shut the door on them, 
 and just whispered : ' Mr Spurr, I thought as much ! 
 Here are two of the superior local princesses the 
 scornful sisters, I should say called to sympathise 
 with our young lady ; which means, to spy out the 
 land in advance, if you understand me, sir ! ' " 
 
 " Mrs Saxon ! " Spires of rose-pink rose in Sheba's 
 pale face for the first time. " You could not you 
 did not ! " 
 
 " I did. He knows, and that's everything. They 
 would have gone straight home and planned a ball 
 in his honour and ignored you on the cards 
 altogether. I told him deliberately : ' The only 
 two things that Mr Loder cared for here in the 
 least were his maze and his Sheba ! ' And he 
 just nodded in his quiet way. Dearie, I know I 
 ought not to speak so at such a time, but I could 
 have clapped my hands and screamed ! They 
 could have stabbed themselves for coming like that 
 I know it. Of course, the moment poor Mr 
 Loder was gone, and the heir to everything arrived,
 
 192 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 they thought the lid was coming off the cauldron 
 at one bound ; they were dying to make the first 
 impression. Quite right they made it ; I'll see 
 
 that it eats well in. And maybe, a little later on 
 
 But, dearie, what must he be thinking in there?" 
 
 Sheba took a step, and paused. He might 
 notice a subtle change. The rare carmine flush was 
 burning brilliantly in her cheeks still. She could 
 not yet she must ! 
 
 " Could you not come in ? " she whispered. 
 
 " My dear, certainly not. I know my place, 
 I hope. He wants to confide in you to pour out 
 his heart to you. You can leave the door ajar, but 
 I shall not even listen. You go to him, dearie, 
 and help him all you can ! " 
 
 Sheba slowly recrossed the flagged hall. She 
 stole in, and closed the door behind her. 
 
 He was waiting. He had drawn up a chair be- 
 side hers. She met his eyes, and smiled back the 
 sandwich plate had been pushed back half empty. 
 If, on his side, he noticed that heightened colour at 
 all, he grasped a mute sign to look quickly away 
 again. He rose, and held her cushions in position. 
 He hung over her with the homage due to the 
 woman who held the highest place in his man's 
 thoughts. 
 
 " Thank you thank you ! " she had to say 
 twice, with trembling lips. " Forget me think of 
 ^ yourself now ! " 
 
 He drew the portiere curtain across the door of 
 his own accord. He sat down close, and leaned 
 toward the fire. His arms crossed, he began to 
 talk in a low, measured voice which was soon to 
 hold her spellbound. It was impossible im-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 193 
 
 possible .'that he could know of the words that 
 had boomed like a muffled bell-note through her 
 brain all that week, and boomed there now : 
 
 "Make haste, Wilfred! . . . Make haste, if 
 you want your wife ! " 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 "Miss ST JOHN, something has told me that we 
 you and I are face to face with the greatest 
 crisis in our lives. Speaking for myself, I have 
 stood like a blind man at two cross roads, not 
 knowing which to take ; but now your woman's 
 intuition comes in. I shall leave it with you 
 whether I wait any longer to see what happens 
 or whether I post this letter to Scotland Yard 
 and ask for the cleverest detective that department 
 can supply. If I do post it money must be spent, 
 and the world must know all. The question is 
 How far am I justified in taking that step? You 
 shall decide." 
 
 He waited a moment ; but Sheba could not 
 speak. He went on. 
 
 "For a week I have done my utmost within 
 certain limits to reach some conclusion. I have 
 failed utterly. The mist upon all has not thinned 
 a jot. And Mr Crewe, the lawyer, could not help 
 me in the least. To be quite frank, I think he 
 preferred to wash his hands of your uncle's affairs 
 until his bill for advertisements be settled. You 
 understand me? He is not sure of his settlement. 
 So far, then, I have been my own detective. And 
 my one glimmer of a theory will explain to you 
 what I have cared to explain to no one else. 
 
 " Miss St John, the man who could fill a role as 
 my understudy filled it that night is no ordinary 
 
 194
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 195 
 
 criminal. Balked once, he was not beaten. In 
 fact, the idea has taken firm hold of me that I am 
 to come face to face we will put it with my 
 'double.' Sooner or later that man will return. 
 
 Because Ah, forgive me ! I was forgetting 
 
 I am a man ! Let us put that contingency aside 
 for to-night ! " 
 
 A quick tremor had run through Sheba's 
 slight body ; unconsciously she had swayed for- 
 ward to glance around. On an impulse, just as 
 involuntary, Wilfred Spurr leaped up to soothe 
 her with his strong brown hand. He watched till 
 the glaze died out of her eyes. 
 
 " Go on ! Tell me ! " she said faintly. 
 
 He went on, in the calm, analytical voice. It 
 had to be told. 
 
 " I must go back fully ten years to our farm, 
 near Toronto. I had heard talk of Uncle Loder 
 as a man with a mystery, and that was all ; it 
 died away whenever I came near. One day one 
 day he arrived as if from out of the ground. He 
 waited two hours to see my father, and vanished 
 again without seeing him as if afraid of his own 
 first impulse. The years passed ; my father had 
 died. One year ago my mother followed him to 
 rest. There was only Uncle Loder left ; and him 
 I never expected to see again. Yet there was 
 something in his one brief visit I had never 
 forgotten, and never shall. He took me by the 
 shoulders, and stared closely into my face for a 
 long time. I can tell you his very words : ' Boy, 
 keep that straight look ! Do that, and some day 
 you may hear from Uncle Spartan ! ' That was 
 all, but it stuck fast in my memory."
 
 196 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 He put a hand to his eyes for a moment. His 
 steady voice came to her again : 
 
 "One day, Miss St John, two or three weeks 
 ago, I was pointed to an advertisement in one of 
 our Colonial papers. It named myself. If I lived, 
 I was wanted. I was to go straight to a solicitor 
 named Crewe, in London, England. If I tem- 
 porised I should regret it ever afterwards. 
 
 " It might have been a colossal hoax. Maybe 
 not one man in fifty would have cared to leave 
 everything and risk the result ; but somehow 
 those lines haunted me. I handed over my farm 
 to a man I could trust, and took passage by the 
 first boat. There was barely a fortnight's margin 
 between the realisation and the moment when I 
 walked into Mr Crewe's office. And Mr Crewe 
 sent me on here. He knew no more than myself 
 knew only that Uncle Loder was said to be 
 sinking. The rest you know. And now, as we 
 must come to that, I must tell you something I 
 have told to no one but the lawyer. That is, my 
 unalterable impression as to what has happened. 
 Why it did not occur to me before why I did not 
 leap at the truth on the spot only God knows ! " 
 
 His voice went down a little, as he turned slowly 
 to look at her. Quite still Sheba sat, but he had 
 anticipated her flash of pallor ; intuition told him 
 that in the silence she had heard once more that 
 convulsive jangle of the house bell. He whispered 
 some encouraging word, and the eyes smiled back 
 at him. His hand gripped hers appealingly, re- 
 assuringly, again ; and this time her fingers held 
 it fast for its warmth and strength. 
 
 " Think of this as a tale that is told and past !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 197 
 
 . . . On the long express journey on the vessel 
 again, too there was a man who called himself 
 Swift. A man a trifle older than myself, maybe, 
 but much of my own height and build. Perhaps 
 you know the drawn-out loneliness of a journey by 
 rail and boat, with a cloud of suspense at the far 
 end of it ! I wanted to kill the interminable hours 
 and Swift seemed to fall into the part naturally. 
 It may have been because I had some hazy idea of 
 having seen him somewhere before ; but I talked 
 in an open, friendly way of my queer errand, and 
 of what might hinge in life upon a trifle like a 
 stray advertisement. He, too, was bound for 
 London ; and in that great, roaring city of yours 
 we gripped hands and said good-bye for ever, I 
 naturally thought. You can follow me?" 
 
 " Every word every step ! " Sheba's lips moved. 
 
 " Strangely enough, I stumbled against this 
 same man as I burst out from Mr Crewe's office. 
 I only wanted to pay off my hotel bill for the 
 previous night, and set off at once ; no doubt at 
 all, too, I was a little dazed. Once again I said 
 good-bye, and may have shouted out I cannot 
 be positive that my quest was now definitely 
 narrowed down to Felcote, in Hampshire. I 
 know he wished me luck, insisted upon taking me 
 back to the hotel by a short cut, went himself for 
 a hansom while I packed, and saw me into it for 
 Waterloo, as I fully thought. Miss St John, when 
 the cab pulled up, I sprang out to find myself at 
 London Bridge. London Bridge station ! And 
 the driver answered point blank that I had given 
 him that direction. I, on my part, knew that the 
 name had never once occurred to me.
 
 ig8 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " Yes, I can see it more clearly every moment ! 
 He drew a crowd together seemed anxious to 
 delay me in a quarrel. As it was, I reached 
 Waterloo to find the only train gone. A few 
 minutes more, and I should have missed as well 
 an express that would give me an indirect connec- 
 tion with Barrowdene with a loss of only about fifty 
 minutes. I arrived here to learn that some nameless 
 villain had personated and forestalled mebyjust 
 
 " No ; I won't go over that ground ! Come back 
 to the present moment ! 
 
 " I can only think this : Swift, as he called him- 
 self, may have been one of the gentlemanly 
 tricksters who haunt the big liners and live by 
 scientific swindling swindling that only daring 
 cleverness could make successful. He may have 
 gleaned from me more than I know may even 
 have opened my boxes in the night ; and possibly 
 it struck him that the simplest thing in the world 
 would be to represent me here, hear what there 
 was to hear, and reap some reward. 
 
 " If so, he made his hurried preparations the 
 moment we reached London. He shadowed me ; 
 he had only one word more to hear ' Felcote ! ' 
 The cabman was bought at a price. That stain 
 on his face, the duplicate ulster and hat (in case 
 his bona fides were challenged at any point) did 
 the rest. Even that hypothesis cannot clear up 
 all the fragments of mystery that have met me 
 here ; but the facts remain. Yet with such a 
 narrow margin of time before him, what could he 
 have hoped to profit by the fraud unless he 
 thought to blackmail me subsequently into buy- 
 ing his information ? And how incredibly strange
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 199 
 
 that fate should play into his hands to the very 
 end ! that Uncle Loder should pass from life in 
 the intervening moment ! 
 
 " One thing more, Miss St John perhaps the 
 most vital thing of all. I doubt that he hailed 
 from Canada, or that his name was Swift. Just 
 as it happens, I have a card that he unknowingly 
 dropped in my cabin one day from a full card- 
 case. Only this morning I recollected ; and there 
 was the card in my breast-pocket, where I had 
 slipped it quite casually. Look? If anything, it 
 complicates the case, and I should see my way 
 well before using it ; but look ! It fell from his 
 own card-case. You see the name and address 
 on it ' Manisty ! ' " 
 
 He drew the pedestal light close, and held out 
 the pasteboard slip for her to read. It fluttered 
 down. Sheba was trying to rise, gasps sounding 
 in her throat. She had tried her woman's utmost 
 to be strong and helpful ; but the intangible horror, 
 the thickening uncertainty behind it all, were too 
 deeply realised. Everything seemed to slip from 
 her for a moment. And then then when she 
 came to herself, his arm was around her, and his 
 lips set, and his eyes grave and troubled. 
 
 " I am cruel," he was saying, over and over. " I 
 should have known. You have borne more than 
 enough already. No more to-night ! " 
 
 " No no ! " She made one more great effort, 
 and put back his hands. " You shall ! You make 
 me feel a coward and I am not that ! I want to 
 know. You thought you thought of detectives 
 as your last resource ? You wish me to decide for 
 you in that ? You hesitated because "
 
 200 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 He stood back, his hands twisting behind him. 
 
 " What ? " she whispered. " Don't fear to speak. 
 What is it ? " 
 
 " This ! I must know whether Mr Loder kept 
 his will in this house supposing that he left one. 
 I could ask only you. And, again, if you could 
 give me the barest clue as to what he had to tell 
 before he died. It was something so precious that 
 he would not trust it even to his own lawyer. But 
 
 you " 
 
 He held his breath, as Sheba's shining eyes 
 looked past him. He had built upon this last 
 hope. And it fell like a house of sand. 
 
 " I cannot. In all truth, not one word ! " she 
 said slowly. " I have seen no will, nor heard of 
 one. I was trusted, but not with that. And I 
 fully believe that no one will ever know what he 
 meant to tell you, except " 
 
 " Swift ! " He went striding to and fro, his 
 throat working. " The blank wall the blank wall 
 again ! It is maddening maddening ! " He strode 
 back, and stood quite close to her. His voice had 
 suddenly changed. " One thing more, Miss St 
 John, before we part ! There is one question of 
 mine you can answer, and you will, strange as it 
 shall sound. Last Thursday think back were 
 you could you by any human possibility have 
 been in the maze between ten o'clock and midday ? 
 Don't look at me ; just think I want to know I 
 mean to know ! " 
 
 ^ "In the maze?" Sheba's voice seemed to die 
 out of her. She repeated it to herself. Her eyes 
 wandered past him, with a troubled, half-waking 
 expression. Was she struggling to recall some-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 201 
 
 thing ? She touched his arm ever so softly. " Why 
 why did you ask me that ? oh, why ? " 
 
 No answer. His lips parted twice, but no word 
 passed. He waited. He saw Sheba's hand waver 
 up to her forehead. She spoke, in a hushed, absent 
 way, as if going mentally step by step over some 
 old ground half forgotten. 
 
 " How strange ! The maze yes, the maze ! 
 Not Thursday no, it seemed to be at night, only 
 a day or two ago. I seemed to be walking from 
 my room in a dream, and yet to know all that 
 happened without wondering, till this moment. 
 Another figure moved along the passage ahead of 
 me, and down the back staircase I had to follow 
 it. We left the house by a door I had never used 
 before : the old servants' entrance, that had been 
 kept fastened for years. The shrubbery ends there. 
 Yes yes ; it was just light enough to see. It was 
 a woman's figure, with the face wrapped in a shawl. 
 I followed her straight into the maze quite calmly, 
 and along the paths. When she stopped I stopped. 
 It seemed it seemed as if she had a light, and 
 was looking for something there. Then I lost her. 
 I cannot remember finding my way out and back 
 into the house. Of a sudden I was standing in 
 my own room. All was as quiet as ever, and Mrs 
 Saxon lay fast asleep still on the bed opposite 
 mine. I looked at the clock. I looked at the dust 
 on my felt shoes the red dust of the cinder path. 
 I lay down again I could not believe that I had 
 ever moved. No ; it was a dream must have 
 been ! Why should I think of the maze much 
 less of entering it in that way? And yet and 
 yet it seems so real again now "
 
 202 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 In the silence Spurr cleared something huskily 
 from his throat. He sat her gently back, and tried 
 to laugh. 
 
 " Don't worry I'm not going to ! We shall 
 never come at the truth in that way. I was not 
 thinking of that at all ; I meant, in the broad day- 
 light, with the sun shining. I can't tell you now 
 what made me " 
 
 It broke off. As he straightened up, his hand, 
 resting upon her shoulder, tightened convulsively. 
 She heard him draw in a long, whistling breath as 
 of desperation saw his figure stiffen. He looked 
 down at his hands for a moment critically, and 
 seemed to be trying to hum a tune. Then he 
 stooped slowly until his eyes were on a level with 
 hers. 
 
 " Don't start or move. Keep perfectly still," he 
 said, in an altered voice a voice of quiet command. 
 
 " What is it ? What have you seen ? " came the 
 quick breath. 
 
 " It's all right. Don't move ! Miss St John, 
 that French window over there has been pushed 
 open several inches by by someone who is watch- 
 ing us now from the balcony. For all I know, all 
 that I told you may have been overheard. No, I 
 am not mistaken someone is standing there now. 
 You're not to tremble not to look. I'll know! " 
 
 No need to warn her. Sheba could not stir a 
 limb could only watch in a sort of numbed fasci- 
 nation as, still humming aloud, still stooping close, 
 he gradually turned his head so that he could stare 
 ?hto the great mirror above the fireplace. It could 
 have been thought that he was whispering eager, 
 passionate words. His keen eyes were straining
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 203 
 
 to pierce and dissect every detail of the shadow 
 picture reflected in that glass. Little puffs of hot 
 breath went past her cheek at intervals. 
 
 " There there ! . . . God ! if those doors only 
 opened outwards ! The creeper has moved again 
 on the right-hand side no, the left ! There 
 were fingers I can almost see a face. Is it 
 could it be? ... Be brave, now! If you'll only 
 obey me a moment more something may happen 
 that " 
 
 Too late. With a low cry, half sob and half 
 hysterical laugh, Sheba caught at his arm, swayed 
 up, and faced the glass doors behind her chair. 
 She must she must if life itself were the forfeit ! 
 
 She saw nothing. The film of fear blurred her 
 eyes ; she turned them back quickly, to realise 
 again the deep, baffled trouble in his own. And 
 then 
 
 A loathing of the rambling old mansion, that 
 once she had loved for its very quaintness and 
 isolation, had been slowly taking possession of her 
 for days past. It materialised in this instant with 
 the sensation of a galvanic shock. Wilfred Spurr 
 seemed to loom in that wild moment like a 
 guardian angel his strong figure, his presence 
 here, were keeping the terror at bay. She did not 
 know it, but she had thrown both arms about him, 
 as he made to leap away. 
 
 " No no ! Don't leave me ! I cannot bear it 
 I cannot stay here ! " 
 
 " Miss St John ! " He freed himself held her 
 away with more firmness than he realised just 
 then. " You must ! " he whispered hotly. " Be 
 your own true self! Quick, it has gone let me
 
 204 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 go! For the peace of this house, let me know, 
 now or never. Mrs Saxon Mrs Saxon ! " 
 
 He sprang to the door, flung it wide, ripping the 
 portiere curtain, and then had bounded back for 
 the double glass doors. They crashed open. He 
 was out a dangerous man at that moment, as he 
 dashed aside the swaying tendrils and stood ready 
 to leap and throttle anything that moved. 
 
 Nothing no one ! Sick at heart, every muscle 
 aching for action, he strode both ways along the 
 balcony. Nothing ! He vaulted the rail, ran a 
 few yards, and stared in all directions. But no 
 human eyes could have hoped to pierce the vague 
 masses of shadow thrown by the house and trees. 
 And then, with a little breath-hiss, he recollected 
 that other rooms opened on to that balcony. 
 
 Ahead lay the great lawn, a clear stretch of silver 
 under the harvest moonlight. To the right were 
 the grounds and the far plantation belt ; to the 
 left, the gravel sweep and drive. Nothing offered 
 the barest clue. Three seconds of time had ob- 
 literated it. The simplest, the wisest thing to go 
 back and declare himself mistaken ; yethe was more 
 positive than he would ever like Sheba St John to 
 know. The faintest breeze might have set creeper 
 filaments stirring fantastically and swung the door 
 inwards, but he was prepared to affirm solemnly 
 that he had picked out the nebulous lines of a 
 human face. Whose? The face that had stared, 
 ghostlike, at him through a privet hedge in the 
 maze? 
 
 Perhaps ten minutes had ticked by when he 
 quietly re-entered and fastened back the glass 
 doors. Where was Sheba ? He looked carefully
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 205 
 
 out, his mind palpitating with uneasiness on 
 another score now. At the head of the staircase 
 there, lamp in hand, Mrs Saxon stood waiting 
 waiting bravely as for anything that might happen. 
 He went calmly up to her level. 
 
 " Nothing ! Don't be alarmed." 
 
 " Nothing ? You expect us to believe that, sir ? 
 Nothing? You would never have called in that 
 voice. And Miss Sheba " 
 
 " Hush ! Gone to her room, has she? I'm glad. 
 Stay with her, Mrs Saxon ; don't leave her yet. 
 Tell her tell her I have investigated thoroughly, 
 and am satisfied it was purely my own illusion ! " 
 
 " Tell her a lie, for our own sake. Very well, 
 sir!" 
 
 She had seen him force a smile, and she had 
 seen something else little clusters of sweat-beads 
 on his dark forehead. 
 
 He wiped them away. His voice sank in 
 confidence. 
 
 "You er did not see anyone come in just 
 now within the last few minutes?" he asked. 
 " I don't mean by the hall door." 
 
 "Mr Spurr, don't! No one is out, that I am 
 aware. It has gone ten o'clock. You forget ! " 
 
 " Think again ! Could anyone have come in by 
 another door, just after I shouted your name?" 
 And the lamp shook in her grasp. 
 
 " Not to my knowledge ! I caught hold of Miss 
 Sheba, and led her straight upstairs. No ; the 
 servants keep to the other side after supper, and 
 come to me for passes after ten o'clock. I tried 
 all those doors and windows myself at dusk 
 always do ! There is only the door at the foot
 
 206 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 of the rear staircase, and that has been locked for 
 years and years. You surely cannot mean " 
 
 "No, no! Don't listen to me at all!" He 
 squared his shoulders laughed quietly at the 
 pale suspicion in her face. For once Mrs Saxon 
 felt unable to read a man " at a glance." " It 
 must be your relaxing Felcote air ; my nerves 
 have gone limp here. I must see Doctor Lancing 
 on my own account ! " 
 
 " You'll never do that, sir. That I do happen 
 to know." 
 
 " Ah ! Well, never mind that. Oblige me, Mrs 
 Saxon, by going to bed. You are tired out with 
 one strain and another. If you break down every- 
 thing will go wrong! Me? Oh, I'm preferring 
 the couch again to-night if you'll let me ! It's 
 nothing ; away home, as I told you, I have often 
 slept on the bare ground for choice ! " 
 
 "Mr Spurr, stuff and nonsense pardon me!" 
 Her voice broke warmly. " I'm sure your room 
 is as comfortable as can be ! " 
 
 " Too comfortable that's just the secret ! " 
 Laughingly he seized her hand, and wrung it as 
 he bent to whisper : " I might not wake if I wished 
 to. You don't understand ? There's no necessity. 
 Seriously, I want to think for all of us. I must ! 
 If nothing transpires within the next forty-eight 
 hours you will be rinding accommodation for a 
 gentleman from Scotland Yard ! There, good- 
 night God bless us all ! Say it to Miss St John 
 *for me tell her a golden sun always shines behind 
 the cloud that looks blackest ! " 
 
 Whistling to himself almost cheerfully, he went 
 on to his own room. He was in there but a
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 207 
 
 moment. Still whistling, back down into the 
 drawing-room he went the room that looked so 
 deserted and different now. Mrs Saxon was not 
 to know how abruptly his throat music ceased as 
 he closed the door, and took out something small 
 and polished from his breast pocket. 
 
 It was the revolver. He had bought it in 
 Toronto. It had lain under his pillow every 
 night since. Its six chambers were still loaded, 
 and might remain so indefinitely. But he had 
 waited these seven days in the fixed, vague 
 belief that a moment would come and the 
 moment must not find him wanting!
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 BARROWDENE furnaces had died down to a mere 
 suggestion of crimson against the blue-black sky. 
 Felcote lay as still and dark as a deserted town. 
 The sluggish moan of the sea could just be heard, 
 answered by intangible rustlings from the deep 
 Hampshire pine woods. 
 
 Two o'clock. The soft-toned chime of the 
 Manor House hall clock had just spoken it. It 
 was the vast hush before the dawn the hour 
 when sleep has its most deadening influence. 
 What voices come to whisper to the wakeful man 
 in that hour ! 
 
 In the drawing-room that couch had not been 
 drawn from its place to-night. Wilfred Spurr sat 
 there by the sinking fire still. He had laid aside 
 his pipe, and was lost in deepest thought. Beside 
 him still was the low, cushioned chair he had 
 placed for Sheba. Days ago it seemed since she 
 had sat there ! and yet, did he close his eyes, he 
 could seem to see hers shining out still. He was 
 curiously calm, and just as curiously unsettled, 
 to-night. That talk with Sheba, dramatically 
 abrupt as its ending had been, had set every 
 nerve palpitating as with fresh life and deter- 
 ^nination. 
 
 Step by step, in this silence, he had gone 
 doggedly back from the start at Toronto to the 
 stunning moment when he first saw Sheba St 
 
 208
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 209 
 
 John's oval and deathly face, and realised Mrs 
 Saxon's awed whisper : 
 
 " You have been, sir ! You have been and 
 gone ! " 
 
 "Now," Spurr said to himself steadily for the 
 fiftieth time, just as he had said it to Mr Crewe, 
 " that man, whoever he was, wanted that particular 
 room. Why ? He had been told something 
 which concerned that room. What?" 
 
 And in the pause he could recall the stiff old 
 lawyer's reply : 
 
 " Quite so ! That is what you have to discover. 
 Sooner or later sooner, you may be sure he 
 will come back here to carry out his defeated 
 object. Be on your guard watch and wait and 
 your problem will answer itself. Sorry I cannot 
 assist you in person the police ought to do that. 
 At the first sign of a will of any break in the 
 clouds send for me ! " 
 
 On a recurring impulse, too strong, too com- 
 pelling, to be denied, Spurr rose, moved out into 
 the hall, lit a taper there, and tiptoed along to- 
 wards the library. It seemed the only thing to 
 do, whenever his thoughts stopped dead at that 
 point. 
 
 The key was in the lock. He stooped to examine 
 it, and then went quietly in. Once again he felt 
 along the dark-panelled walls, tapping for possible 
 recesses. For the third time he unlocked and 
 ransacked that centre desk carefully. Again he 
 went down for that tedious inspection of the floor 
 boards. The tall timepiece on the left ticked 
 with ironical steadiness at him, as he stood up 
 for one last glance around. He was not beaten, 
 o
 
 210 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 He was reluctantly trying to believe that this 
 part of his theory was wrong unaccountably 
 wrong. 
 
 The first feeling of drowsiness had stolen over 
 him. He would go up to his room, and to bed. 
 To-morrow, his letter to Scotland Yard should 
 be posted without fail. 
 
 Back in the drawing-room, he turned out the 
 pedestal lamp. The revolver where was it ? He 
 must have placed it down somewhere in the 
 library ; the sight of it would send a fresh quiver 
 through the household. He re-lit the taper and 
 went patiently back. 
 
 Yes, it was there. Now it was slipped in his 
 breast-pocket. And now 
 
 What was that ? That ? 
 
 Instinctively he slid his hand up the taper, and 
 extinguished it. Darkness swallowed up every- 
 thing ; but it was the man's hearing alone that 
 bore the strain in that moment. Heavens heavens 
 yes ! There and there again. Above the tick- 
 tack of the tall clock he heard it : the stealthy 
 crunch upon the gravel path out there. 
 
 He closed the door behind him stood with his 
 back to the wall farthest from the windows. They 
 were shuttered now, but he could see the half-light 
 beyond through small loopholes. The taper fell ; 
 drew in one long breath, and crouched forward he 
 in the attitude of a man starting for a sprint race. 
 Was it to be? was it to happen to-night? Some 
 words almost a dry, straining prayer rose in his 
 throat. And then all else sank out of his mind. 
 He knew only that someone or something had 
 climbed the balcony railing at that point, and that
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 211 
 
 fingers were fumbling and tugging carefully at the 
 glass doors. 
 
 A pause; a pause never to be described or 
 forgotten. Then it commenced the creaking, 
 grinding, nibbling sound, as if a legion of rats had 
 begun to burrow in the panelled recesses some- 
 where. Click ! The slight window-fastenings, 
 mere corroded strips of brass, had given way. 
 Again the gnawing, straining sound, and then, with 
 a sudden dry crack like a cough, the old shutters 
 had parted and swung slowly inward. A wave 
 of summer air, warm as new milk, fanned in. 
 
 Would he ever lose the memory of that moment's 
 sensation ? the passion, longing, awe and fascina- 
 tion of a lifetime seemingly compressed into one 
 silent moment? 
 
 A man stood there, framed as in a ghostly 
 picture, distinct against the background of illu- 
 minated lawn. For a few seconds he made no 
 movement, as if gauging the risks that might 
 breathe in this silence. Then, craning forward, 
 he peered around the room. Just a vague glimpse 
 the staring watcher had of a face, and then the 
 figure had felt its way inside. 
 
 Now now for the secret ! And then then 
 the final struggle for possession of that secret! 
 
 A slight, careful crackle. Just in time Spurr 
 realised and slid down to his knees on the bear-rug 
 there. Simultaneously a match flared up ; then 
 another. For a moment the watcher could make 
 nothing of it. The centre desk blotted out his 
 view ; he might only judge that the other man 
 was gazing round to take bearings of the apart- 
 ment, in which he had never set foot until now.
 
 212 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 The second match died out. Another maddening 
 pause, and then a fumbling sound. Stare round 
 the desk as he might, Spurr could swear to nothing. 
 But his hand had crept toward that breast-pocket ; 
 whatever came of it, he could not endure the 
 uncertainty much longer. 
 
 The groping went on. The searcher had begun 
 to mutter passionately under his breath it might 
 be in impotent curses, or in the ecstasies of success. 
 And then, of a sudden, as the partial stillness 
 came again, something dawned upon Wilfred 
 Spurr's brain. 
 
 That clock had stopped. 
 
 His hand had been clutching a box of wax vestas 
 lying in his pocket. He bounded to his feet, and 
 drew one down the strip of rough metal. It flared 
 out. His arm shook. He had the feeling of being 
 alone in the cage of some loathsome, unnamed 
 beast. He had wanted to see to come face to 
 face just once with the man who had forestalled 
 him at the critical hour of his life. And he was 
 to have his deepest desire. 
 
 Full across that man's face the sickly light fell. 
 He had given one convulsive shudder aside, and 
 then remained as though paralysed. Into the 
 dark face, unspeakably evil, unspeakably haggard, 
 as with the hunger of sleepless days and nights, 
 with the remnants of the olive stain still streaked 
 upon it, Spurr gazed. There was the dishevelled 
 broad felt hat the original counterpart of his 
 own ; there hung the spurious fur-trimmed 
 travelling ulster even that had not been dis- 
 carded. Swift or Manisty in the living flesh ! 
 His " double," at last !
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 213 
 
 Just that clear sight of a face that burned itself 
 upon his memory for ever just long enough to 
 see the lips drawing back from the teeth in a grin 
 of fear and hate. Then the vesta had given out. 
 No time to feel for the revolver and take a blind 
 aim in the dark. He gave it no thought. He 
 had sprung, both rigid arms flung out to grip that 
 lying throat and choke the truth Spartan Loder's 
 last words from it. 
 
 Not yet ! not in that way ! His rush missed 
 by a hair's breadth, as the man gave that con- 
 vulsive twist again. A moan, a shower of blows, 
 another twist, and they were face to face once 
 more. 
 
 " Keep off ! or take this ! " came the husky, 
 whistling breath. 
 
 A knife maybe the very weapon that had 
 forced window and shutters had swung up. 
 Spurr shrank ; the blade tip had slashed down 
 within an inch of his face. Again he gave way 
 and stumbled back, as the other drove full at his 
 chest with that murderous thing. It was a feint 
 on his part and another met it. Something 
 quicker than himself, his " double," suddenly 
 swerved and leaped for the balcony, stopped dead, 
 and launched out a leg behind with the back-twist 
 used by the practised criminal. The heavy heel 
 struck Spurr full in the body, and sent him reeling 
 back with a sharp gasp of pain. Forward he 
 stumbled again, the revolver shakily pointed ; but 
 the great chance of that night seemed to have 
 slipped him. It was not a page out of a romance : 
 it was a morsel of ironic reality. He had pitted 
 himself against a man of superior cunning the
 
 214 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 man with most at stake. Before it seemed possible, 
 his fellow-voyager had dropped from the railing 
 and was tearing along the gravel walk below. 
 
 Stunned by the swift daring of it, Spurr stood, 
 noises booming in his brain. He wanted to shout, 
 and could not. And yet, to escape, so easily, at 
 this crucial moment no ! He set his teeth, dashed 
 along the balcony, and was off in white-hot pursuit. 
 
 And now now began a life-and-death race. 
 Spurr knew it. So surely as he was determined 
 upon capture, as surely the hunted man never 
 meant to allow one life to stand between himself 
 and escape. 
 
 Under purely nominal conditions, Wilfred Spurr 
 might have covered three yards to the other's 
 two ; but fear lends its wings and a million 
 of money still swung in the scales. There seemed 
 to be no thought of doubling or risking another 
 hand-to-hand struggle. Straight on through lace- 
 like patches of moonlight, through the obscure 
 shadows, they panted ; and the man ahead, 
 the travelling cloak outspread like a fan, was 
 keeping his precious lead. Along the gravel 
 drive and past the stables, a plunge through the 
 evergreen shrubbery, away at a sharp angle across 
 the park-land, along the still Felcote road for some 
 distance and then, as by sudden inspiration, 
 that flying shape ahead had swerved down the 
 shingle track that led to the sea. To the sea ! 
 
 Jaws gripped hard in determination, Spurr fol- 
 lowed, barely realising. He could hear a dull 
 booming ahead, could feel his shoes sinking into 
 loose, treacherous soil, but the precise significance 
 of it escaped him for the moment. He had never
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 215 
 
 been this way before. He simply knew that he 
 had it in him to pound along at a rate which, 
 sooner or later, must exhaust the other man. 
 
 And then suddenly, that careering shape ahead 
 was blotted out of sight. A pit ? a trap ? Startled, 
 uncertain, he drew up sharply to grasp the posi- 
 tion ; then spurted desperately on again. Now he 
 could see. The loose track zigzagged down through 
 a gap or cutting in the solid cliff wall, and there 
 abruptly ended. He raced through to draw up 
 quivering and staring. It was the bay ; the lonely, 
 rock-strewn cove where, they said, old Spartan 
 Loder had occasionally walked after dark with 
 that ghost of his past. And he seemed to be the 
 one living thing there. 
 
 It seemed more or less than human. He could 
 not move there was no call to move. He had a 
 full view of the horseshoe-shaped sand-spit ; and 
 he held guard at the only way out. The weird 
 beauty of the scene, even at such a chaotic moment, 
 held him in thrall. 
 
 There, stretching away as to eternity, tumbled 
 and heaved the sea. Countless silver paths of 
 moonlight danced, died away, and shimmered 
 again on the ebony-like swells. The dull boom 
 of its thudding waves sounded like far-off guns at 
 work in war time. To his right and left stretched 
 the velvet carpet of white sand, dotted with fan- 
 tastic piles of green stone. And behind him was 
 the intense silence of the land, as if it held its 
 breath in fear of the oncoming waters. 
 
 Beaten ! Beaten ! 
 
 He took a slow, incredulous step forward. The 
 sand deadened all sound, and those towering cliffs
 
 216 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 on either side threw huge black shadows, and were 
 honeycombed themselves with cavernous hollows 
 eaten by the suction of the winter tides. Wolfish, 
 blazing eyes might be watching him from one of 
 those recesses as he stood. 
 
 Beaten ! Heavens, yes ! 
 
 No ! He had taken another unconscious stride 
 forward. 
 
 All the stagnating blood in him rushed to the 
 surface again, with a sensation half horror and 
 half joy. As in a spasm of fear, the cloaked figure 
 darted out from one of those hollows and made 
 toward him. It was the rush of death Spurr 
 knew it. Without a thought as to the conse- 
 quences, forgetting man's law God's Law he 
 snatched out the revolver, pointed it, and fired. 
 
 Bang ! The sound echoed like a thunder-blast 
 around the cove. He had missed but that was 
 all. Before he knew that his finger had pulled 
 the trigger the other man had swerved once more 
 and was making for the water's edge. It was 
 reached. Spurr drew up ; the pistol fell from his 
 hand ; he watched in a numbness of awe. Sheer 
 into the water the flying figure had dashed, and 
 was shoulder deep, striking out wildly. A swell 
 rolled in and drove him back. It returned, and 
 sucked him out again. Feebly, more feebly, his 
 head thrown back, he fought to get out of reach. 
 A heavier swell caught him tossed him round 
 swirled him out and left him struggling in a trough. 
 Now his arms scarcely moved. He was gone ! . . . 
 A hand shot up, clutching at the moonlight ladders 
 on the surface. His face reappeared a second 
 time his body had been carried through the black
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 217 
 
 belly of another breaker. One gurgling, awful cry 
 the last cry of a man fighting madly to keep 
 his bare lips clear of the salt lava that sucked him 
 down screamed across the sand-spit. 
 
 " Save me ! Curse you, save me ! " 
 
 Save him ! Spurr sprang to realisation with a 
 shudder, and stumbled forward. A white-maned 
 roller was just curving for the soft fall. He shot 
 through it, and next moment was hurling himself 
 with all the strength he possessed through the 
 water beyond. He could see nothing. Down 
 down twice into the green valleys he plunged, 
 feeling in all directions ; and then suddenly his 
 hands clutched the inert thing, as it swayed slowly 
 up to the surface once more. At last at last ! 
 
 Was it too late ? For a moment he could not 
 tell. He was treading water for a respite to get 
 back breath and sense. Nothing as yet seemed 
 real ; all had happened so swiftly. Then he knew 
 that a gush of salt water had poured from the 
 man's lips and nostrils ; arms felt around him and 
 clung on feebly. Swift or Manisty had come 
 back to a second lease of life. 
 
 A surge of exaltation gave Spurr new strength 
 and vast pity in that moment. All but the bare 
 fact of life life purchased by himself was blotted 
 out He swung the weed from the clinging man's 
 eyes, kept himself afloat with hands and feet, and 
 waited. That first feeling of fear went through 
 him as he stared down into the sick, sinister face 
 upturned, and realised that the arms were tighten- 
 ing about his neck, and the legs about his body. 
 He had given one glance back to the sand-spit, and 
 knew that the tide must be running out. The
 
 218 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 horseshoe cove was farther to the right than it 
 should have been. 
 
 " Keep still ! " he said. " Keep still, and you're 
 safe. You hear? If not " 
 
 " Yes yes ! " came the other's rattling gasp. In 
 his eyes was still the congealed terror that sub- 
 jugated every other human consideration. He 
 had looked into those of Death Death crouching 
 at the base of those green, swirling valleys where 
 the blind snakes crawled upon ooze. " Save me ! 
 You shall know all for my life ! " 
 
 " I shall," Spurr said, in a deep, resolute voice. 
 A great, vague calm had come to him. He would 
 not admit yet that he could forge no way back 
 with those tentacles tightening the breath out 
 of him. Then suddenly he threw back his 
 head pantingly. "You'd strangle me sink me! 
 Take away your arms, man, and let me let 
 me. 
 
 It did not finish. That calmness had been one 
 of faintness. He was going down. He heard 
 Swift give a gurgling scream as a roller slid over 
 them. As he struggled upright again, out of the 
 silence a thunder of voices seemed shouting to 
 Spurr to deal a blow at the upturned face and save 
 himself alone. He would not hear. With a heav- 
 ing groan he struck slowly out for the sand-spit, 
 their intertwined bodies alternately swayed under 
 the surface. A few more strokes, the bubbles break- 
 ing in his suffocated throat, and then he found his 
 hand feeling up for the other's neck. 
 
 * Let go ! " he muttered. " For God's sake, let 
 go ! One must die. ..." 
 
 There was no response. The sick eyes stared up
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 219 
 
 at him in mute, awful meaning. They said that, if 
 one must drown, both should drown. 
 
 A great passion and a great agony surged 
 together in Spurr. He must ! he must do it ! 
 And then he thought of Sheba. She seemed to be 
 standing there on the sand-spit, seeing all, watching 
 this supreme test of his manhood. At thati 
 moment the illusion seemed vividly real. Murder 
 in the open moonlight, before her watching eyes 
 no ! 
 
 He fought on, with arms and feet that seemed 
 weighted with iron. The long swells reared above 
 his half-blind eyes, and dashed down into them, as 
 he paused and lay back, that living death uppermost 
 upon him. He tried to speak again, but no voice 
 was left to him. In a dazed state he struck out 
 yet again. And at last, when the cold lethargy of 
 utter collapse was creeping over him, he felt his 
 groping hands trail upon slime and sand, and knew 
 that, in some miraculous way, he had reached land. 
 Feebly, half unconsciously, he crawled on hands 
 and knees up the slope, till the sand felt warm and 
 dry. On yet a little farther till he toppled 
 forward. And then, and only then, the horrible 
 tentacles relaxed. The shrieking of devils ceased. 
 
 He could not speak, could not move, for a time. 
 He lay with his lips close against that other man's 
 face ; he knew nothing till Swift's hand came up 
 and beat away the contact. Through the dulled 
 corridors of his brain there was going a sound as 
 of bells pealing and voices singing. His eyes had 
 closed to everything. He knew by some instinct 
 that the other man was not beside him now, that 
 the fruits of his great effort had been snatched
 
 220 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 from him ; but he could not stretch out a hand 
 to prevent it could not turn to see what was 
 happening. 
 
 Perhaps he had swooned. He would never 
 rightly know in this life. When, presently, he 
 found himself upon his feet, he was staggering to 
 and fro like a drunken man. He was no more sure 
 that it had all taken place than a man just waking 
 from a nightmare. Sharp pains were going through 
 his head ; the suffocating grip of those arms seemed 
 still about his neck ; all was a blood-red blur. 
 
 Swift was gone: but he had forgotten Swift. 
 The glint of the pistol, lying where it had fallen 
 caught his eyes as he stumbled heavily toward the 
 gap. He stooped for it, without recalling just how 
 it came to be there. Then he staggered mechani- 
 cally on, guided solely by the drunkard's instinct. 
 He was drunk. Drunk with excitement and the 
 stupefaction of that struggle to reach land. 
 
 There was the house. How he had come at it 
 he could not tell. He reeled up the balcony. The 
 library glass doors stood flung back just as he had 
 left them. He felt his way through, along the 
 passage, fumbled for his wax vestas, found them 
 dry in their metal case, and lit the pedestal lamp. 
 But how it was all accomplished he could not 
 afterwards have told. Somewhere deep in his 
 mind the instincts were at work, because he strove 
 to act stealthily, and without noise. He must have 
 known vaguely that the sodden clothes clinging 
 upon him constituted a physical danger, because 
 he moved unsteadily at once across to the side- 
 board. Brandy was there ; he drank down a gulp 
 as if it had been water. The curious effect was, to
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 221 
 
 partially sober him. He could look round and 
 wonder whether he had ever really left that chair 
 by the dying fire. One more gulp and he was 
 almost himself again. He remembered. The tre- 
 mendous significance of that realisation did the 
 rest. 
 
 For a time, insanity had seemed to threaten him. 
 The reaction had set in. He was steady and collected 
 enough now. One thing one great thing : part 
 of the mystery was torn away! He could tell 
 Sheba that Swift or Manisty his fellow-traveller, 
 was the man who had played the diabolical role on 
 that never- forgotten night. 
 
 That clock ! that clock, that had suddenly 
 stopped. 
 
 He removed his soaked shoes, and tiptoed out. 
 He found the taper, lit it, and looked. He was 
 almost past feeling a new sensation ; it seemed 
 only a bare, natural fact that the door of the tall 
 timepiece stood half-open. The pendulum hung 
 mute and still. Quite calmly he peered into the 
 dusty recess behind it. What was it ? a hole re- 
 vealed by a sliding panel ? He thrust in his arm. 
 
 There was nothing. Nothing ! The exquisite 
 irony of it made him smile to himself. The aper- 
 ture in the solid wall was quite empty. The thief, 
 then, had come back with a vengeance. In the 
 pockets of the thing that he had plucked out of 
 those green depths had lain the spoil ; and he had 
 let it slip from him. The net result of that night's 
 work was, that a finger pointed mockingly to the 
 hiding-place chosen by Spartan Loder. 
 
 There was a doggedness, a patience, in Spartan 
 Loder's nephew which enabled him to rise the
 
 222 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 stronger after a blow that had floored him. He 
 simply slid back the panel, and went out to look 
 at the hall clock. He had no intention of raising 
 an alarm gave never a thought to it ; no good 
 could come of that, where only the nerves of sensi- 
 tive women were concerned. He had something 
 very different in his mind. 
 
 Deliberately he put on the hands of the tall 
 timepiece and set the pendulum swinging. Then 
 he turned his attention to the forced shutters. Five 
 minutes' quiet work had made them secure again, 
 with no visible damage done. The knife had 
 prised up a bar that connected the two sections 
 that was all. He made mental note of the fact 
 that, given a crude implement and a little daring, 
 it was as easy to gain entrance to the old Manor 
 House by night as by day. 
 
 He was back in the drawing-room. He had 
 recollected one thing more one thing which, after 
 all, crowned the rush of events with a quiet triumph 
 on his own side. Swift had beaten him ; but, quite 
 unknown to Swift, he possessed that address card. 
 In all probability it was the clue by which, sooner 
 or later, the clever scoundrel could be tracked. 
 
 The pasteboard slip ! He walked straight to the 
 table. He knew just where the card had lain, as 
 he whispered to Sheba not to move in her chair. 
 And it was not there ! 
 
 He stood. He would not feel in his pockets 
 made no attempt to look around the room. There 
 was no need. His brain was in full working order 
 nbw. The card had been lying there as he shouted 
 Mrs Saxon's name and took that leap out to the 
 balcony. It had been taken and never by Sheba
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 223 
 
 St John. It had disappeared in that brief interval 
 while he stood whispering with Mrs Saxon on the 
 staircase. And, strain his faculties as he might, 
 he could recall no more than " Manisty " and the 
 words " Brixton, London." Not until yesterday 
 had he once glanced at the card since slipping it 
 into his pocket on board the boat. 
 
 He passed a hand across his forehead once. 
 Then he turned out the lamp, and went steadily 
 up to his room. In the same quiet way he stripped, 
 rubbed himself thoroughly down with a rough towel, 
 and drew on an entire change of clothing. The 
 loss of a night's rest was nothing nothing to a 
 man who had lived the hard, simple life he had 
 lived away at Toronto. His face bathed, his hair 
 brushed, he drew up the blind. 
 
 Grey and gold dawn stole in with the tentative 
 twitter of birds and the fresh scent of opening 
 flowers. He had nearly an hour to wait yet. For 
 that length of time he sat staring into space that 
 seemed to frame the sweet, sad, imploring face of 
 a woman a woman whose future happiness 
 trembled in the invisible scales a woman named 
 Sheba ! 
 
 Seven o'clock was striking as Wilfred Spurr 
 strode into Felcote. Early as it was, he had 
 attracted many stares ; but his set face, from 
 which the tan was fading a little, turned neither 
 to right nor left. Without hesitation he walked 
 up the police station steps, and put a simple 
 question, ignoring the flutter caused by his 
 presence at such an hour. 
 
 " To see the inspector ? Yes, sir ! " The fore-
 
 224 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 most of the three constables on duty bowed 
 breathlessly. " You shall, sir, if you'll wait in his 
 room for five minutes. He lives only three houses 
 down. Ay, thank you, sir we don't meet many 
 gentlemen ! " 
 
 He paced the room for ten minutes, perhaps, 
 before the inspector bustled in. He was a cheerful, 
 purple-faced man with a husky voice, and his very 
 first words reminded the listener of a certain 
 opinion delivered by Mrs Saxon. He struck an 
 attitude at the doorway, half in sight of a knot 
 of people peering up from the street. It was in- 
 cumbent upon him to strike also some impressive 
 note at the outset. One stare, and the note was 
 struck. 
 
 " You're Mr Wilfred Spurr ! " 
 
 " Indeed ? " was the steady answer. " And how 
 did you know that ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " The inspector chuckled huskily, as 
 after a revelation of acumen. " My business to 
 know, sir ! Come to that, I have seen you two or 
 three times in the town this week, generally after 
 dusk." 
 
 " Indeed ? " he said again. It was but his 
 second visit to Felcote, and he had never seen 
 this man before. He was vaguely impressed, 
 spite of himself. " Who says so, may I ask ? " 
 
 " I say so, sir, with your permission. I believe 
 you made two or three purchases of er eatables." 
 
 Spurr looked him up and down. And then 
 
 then he thought of something. Felcote knew 
 
 ^nothing of a "double." It was Swift who had 
 
 ventured into Felcote after dusk who had risked 
 
 coming face to face with his duplicate. He drew
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 225 
 
 a long breath, and looked around. The knot of 
 people outside had thickened. He saw that there 
 was a rear entrance to the building. 
 
 " Could we use that way out ? " he asked 
 abruptly. And the inspector scented business. 
 
 " Certainly, sir ! I beg your pardon. If I'd 
 known it was confidential " 
 
 " It is. That is why I called. I'll trouble you 
 to walk back with me a little way."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE new day, Thursday, had made good progress 
 and grown remarkably warm, as the inspector 
 had found occasion to say more than once before 
 Spartan Loder's nephew strode back to the house 
 to gulp down a late breakfast. 
 
 Mrs Saxon watched him anxiously. He looked 
 thinner ; and there was the fact that he had locked 
 his bedroom door before going out. But he vouch- 
 safed no information. The one gleam of light 
 came into his eyes when she ventured to say that 
 Miss Sheba seemed to have passed a fairly good 
 night 
 
 He went upstairs. She heard the key of his 
 room turn, and turn again. 
 
 He was spreading out the wet clothes by his 
 window to dry. Then he threw himself down on 
 the bed, and allowed his strained eyes to close. 
 Only a few minutes seemed to pass, but noon had 
 been notched when he grasped that someone was 
 drumming at the door. He sprang up. Sophie, 
 the maid, went guiltily back from the crevice. 
 
 " This note for you, sir just come ! " 
 
 It had been hastily pencilled, was marked 
 " Strictly Private," and ran as follows : 
 
 "DEAR SIR, I have given the boy sixpence to 
 run with this report, thinking it best not to show 
 near the house in person. He is not likely to 
 
 226
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 227 
 
 chatter, as I first satisfied myself that he has 
 played truant from school. 
 
 " Dear Sir, Up to the moment of writing I can 
 get no trace whatever of a man answering in any 
 way to your description. Since leaving you I have 
 made further careful search of every likely spot in 
 the vicinity of the cove. Excuse me for believing 
 that no such man is concealed there. By far the 
 simplest course would be to make inquiries at the 
 local casual wards to ascertain whether a tramp of 
 that description is known ; but perhaps you would 
 object to the publicity. I am taking upon myself, 
 however, to send two trustworthy men to scour 
 the lanes and fields in the radius. If anything 
 comes of this I will communicate with you in- 
 stantly. 
 
 "P.S. Dear Sir, Since writing the above it 
 occurs to me that the man is no tramp. If, as you 
 say, he went off wearing a cloak and hat of your 
 own, abstracted from the Manor House at the time 
 of his felonious attempt, it seems advisable to 
 assume that he had discarded portions of his own 
 clothing possibly somewhere in the grounds. 
 With your permission I will make a personal 
 search there at the first opportunity. In the mean- 
 time rely upon my strict discretion. 
 
 " INSPECTOR TRANSOME." 
 
 Spite of a dull disappointment Wilfred Spurr 
 bit his lip upon a smile as he tore the note into 
 fragments. His first impulse was to reply in three 
 sharp words " Let matter drop." But he decided 
 to wait. 
 
 Gradually the day wore on toward its close.
 
 228 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 He looked at his watch and scanned a bend of the 
 Felcote road at intervals, but each hour drew a 
 blank. Everything seemed to be in a state of 
 suspension. Only once during the long day had 
 he seen and spoken with Sheba St John, and then 
 it was almost a fugitive glimpse and word. 
 
 He had been writing in his room. As he left it 
 he passed some workmen apparently busy plaster- 
 ing up a perished wall in the branch corridor, and 
 paused to watch proceedings. One of the workmen 
 spoke . 
 
 " Did think of asking, sir, whether there was any 
 objection to our smoking on the job. It looks a 
 longer one than it did at first." 
 
 " Smoke, by all means, if you want ! At least, 
 perhaps I ought to tell you to ask Miss St John 
 about that." 
 
 He had turned away. There was a soft rustle of 
 drapery, and he came face to face with Sheba herself. 
 
 " You ! " He breathed it involuntarily. Yester- 
 day seemed so long ago at that moment. She 
 was pale still, but surprisingly calm ; and that 
 listening look had died out of her eyes. Hardly 
 knowing, he reached out both hands, and hers lay 
 tightly gripped between them for an instant. " I 
 mean, you were able to sleep ? " he whispered on 
 quickly. " I feel as if I had " 
 
 " Don't speak of it ! " She could smile up, to 
 reassure him. "It is all forgotten. I have come 
 down to take my place again as you wished ! " 
 
 " God bless you ! " 
 
 That was all. The workmen had ceased work, 
 and were waiting to broach the further and more 
 delicate question of tobacco.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 229 
 
 And now it was close upon six o'clock, and he 
 had practically relinquished even that forlorn hope 
 of hearing that his elusive "double" had been 
 brought to bay in some quiet corner, and would 
 confess all he knew as the alternative to arrest. 
 If that could have happened how much it might 
 have meant ! Compounding a felony, Inspector 
 Transome might label it ; but the inspector was 
 open to conviction. With an offer of freedom 
 dangling before him Swift or Manisty might 
 have made a clean breast of all that had been done 
 in the dark, and no one need be the wiser. In 
 that case 
 
 " Note for you, sir ! " It was Sophie again, with 
 her inevitable swift blush. " The same boy brought 
 it, and ran away without waiting ! " 
 
 He took it eagerly. From Inspector Transome 
 yes ! His pulse quickened as he scanned the 
 few hastily-pencilled words : 
 
 " DEAR SIR, Just as soon as convenient, must 
 see you for five minutes near the lodge gates. 
 To stop the talk, shall leave Felcote in plain 
 clothes and cut through the grounds." 
 
 He went out at once and glanced around him 
 in bewilderment. Darkness already? Twenty 
 minutes ago, at most, the sky had been one rich 
 flame of orange and scarlet ; now he was startled 
 to find it blotted out by a curling, wintry-looking 
 vapour. As he went uncertainly down the drive 
 the vapour appeared to thicken and become a fog, 
 tangible and clammy. Fantastic patches of it fled 
 across the open park on his right like an army of
 
 230 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 misty shapes suddenly summoned. It seemed a 
 phenomenon. 
 
 The roadway at the end was still fairly clear, 
 however, and Transome stood there, with the air 
 of a man who had paused by mere accident to 
 count the leaves on a certain tree. Transome was 
 fully in his element. 
 
 "That you, sir? Awkward, this, sir!" he whis- 
 pered, huskily confidential. " Thought we should 
 have something before long ; I said so, this morn- 
 ing, you remember. It's going to be nasty while 
 it lasts. If you had left it till this evening, sir, 
 we shouldn't have got out of the cove in twenty- 
 four hours. Would you believe me, sir " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! What is the news ? " Spurr put in 
 quietly. The inspector's manner had told him to 
 expect some. 
 
 " Ah, to be sure, sir ! Well, it's not much, and 
 yet it's a great deal." He cleared his dry throat 
 after the paradox. " I think I've done all that a 
 man could do, and I'm offering ten to one in 
 sovereigns only with myself, mind, sir! that I 
 could find part of his clothing in these very grounds. 
 At the present moment, sir, while you and I are 
 standing calmly here, your man is walking about 
 London streets, one hundred odd miles away." 
 
 " London ! " 
 
 It sounded as hopeless, as full of finality, as if 
 the inspector had mentioned Hades. London ! 
 His mind had been vaguely following that fugitive 
 shape in imagination from cavern to cavern along 
 the cliff wall. 
 
 " That's the word, sir. At least, ' London ' was 
 on the ticket he took, and which he paid for.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 231 
 
 He's not likely to get out half-way and come back 
 on foot. My solemn advice is, Mr Spurr, if you 
 really want to get back the valuable papers he 
 took away in your cloak, to let me wire a full 
 description at once, before the day goes. Once 
 in London streets a man's apt to reckon himself 
 swallowed up ; but what's London, after all ? Put 
 me in a London street, with some idea of " 
 
 " Do let me think ! " Spurr said sharply. " How 
 did you find this out?" 
 
 " Ah, there you are, sir ! It's my position. As 
 he wasn't where you expected, I turned to what 
 / thought the likeliest place the railway station. 
 And there I found him at least, the strongest 
 recollection of him. Almost the same thing, you'll 
 admit ! " 
 
 " And why couldn't you have suggested that at 
 first?" 
 
 " Well, it was a queer affair, to begin with, sir. 
 You must have some straw before you can begin 
 making your bricks, as they say. After my first 
 note to you I sat down and figured it all over 
 afresh, and then it dawned. That was no tramp, 
 Mr Spurr ! Tramps don't touch burglary. Shirk- 
 ing work, they're born cowards, and like daylight 
 as much as we do. That man wanted to get out 
 of the place with a change of clothes. He got 
 them. Naturally, he'd take the first train to get 
 out of it. Quite right ; the gentleman went off by 
 the return mail train at seven-fifteen almost the 
 very minute when you stood in my office, sir. 
 Think of it ! " And he had to clear his dry throat 
 again. " Now, what / want to know, sir, is this : 
 Who was he, and why did he want the clothes ?
 
 232 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Ah, but there's more in it than even you think, 
 Mr Spurr ! I'll tell you how I can be sure he has 
 got clean away : two of the porters watched him. 
 And why ? they thought it was you, sir. One of 
 the first things they told me was that Mr Wilfred 
 Spurr, of the Manor House, had gone up to town 
 by the seven-fifteen. They even said you had 
 looked ill, and the worse for wear, so to speak. 
 That clinches it, I think, sir ! " 
 
 It did. He stood silent. It required more than 
 a moment to realise that, after being actually 
 powerless within his grasp, Swift or Manisty 
 had vanished with the secret, perhaps for ever. 
 
 "Rumbustical affair, sir," remarked Inspector 
 Transome, watching him askance. "Wish I'd 
 been on the spot. Might have been worse, if you 
 hadn't happened to be up so late. I suppose this 
 hat and coat were all he'd been able to grab at 
 before you started up. Seriously, sir, I think it 
 would bear a little looking into ! " 
 
 Spurr had heard nothing. He felt in his pocket, 
 while the inspector counted as many more leaves 
 as he could for the thickening vapour. Transome 
 looked down in surprise to find something in his 
 hand. 
 
 " What's this, sir ? " It was gold, and he became 
 quite husky. " Well, I musn't insult you, sir, by 
 refusing; but it's the last thing I looked for. 
 And you can rely upon my discretion, if at any 
 time " 
 
 " I rely upon it now. Good-evening ! " 
 
 " And if you should think better of it, sir the 
 hat and coat I mean, if you'd commission me to 
 look round "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 233 
 
 Spurr had turned. He had almost to grope a 
 way back to the lodge wicket. Just as he passed 
 through he heard the muffled throb of cylinders, and 
 saw two dull red lights looming close. He stood 
 very still to listen. He recognised the voice at once 
 courteous, musical, but barely as smoothas usual. 
 
 " Who is that ? Transome ? We have driven 
 right into this confounded sea-mist ; we left the 
 sun shining at Barrowdene. Nothing I detest 
 more. Whereabouts is the Manor gate? That 
 empty lodge is a standing insult to the place." 
 
 The voice of Gilbert Lancing, most successful 
 man in Felcote. Spurr could just make out his 
 figure leaning from the tonneau of the car. It 
 seemed the most natural thing on earth that 
 Inspector Transome should leap to open the gate 
 as for an emperor. 
 
 " You're almost abreast of it, doctor ! Mr Wilfred 
 Spurr has just gone through. A real gentleman, 
 doctor, the new master here. The sort we want 
 not like the old one ! " 
 
 " Think so ? " The other's voice hardened, 
 although he laughed. " I know enough already to 
 prefer the old one. Thank you, Transome ! Go 
 slowly, Henri ! " 
 
 Doctor Lancing was calling at the Manor House. 
 Spurr had only time to press back against the 
 evergreen border as the car rumbled past. If its 
 occupant had turned he must have seen ; but he 
 did not. His white, handsome, supercilious face 
 craned intently forward ; his gloved hands gripping 
 the hood of the vehicle, he was staring over the 
 chauffeur's shoulder with a strange expression. 
 
 Spurr came out on to the gravel sweep five
 
 234 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 minutes later. From here, on the slope, he had a 
 full view of what was for him a new and extra- 
 ordinary sight the house enveloped by a sea-mist 
 which had crept up without warning. It moved 
 in clammy waves that deadened all sound ; at 
 moments it seemed to be a forest of wan arms 
 waving ; earth and sky were utterly lost for a time. 
 He could not even be sure if the doctor's car were 
 there still. 
 
 Preferring the balcony entrance, he crossed the 
 drawing-room. On the threshold of the hall he 
 paused. He heard Mrs Saxon speak breathlessly : 
 
 " No no, she does not seem to be in the house 
 at all just now. She may have stepped out before 
 the mist came on. Oh, she is much better ! " 
 
 And then that other voice slow, melodious, 
 sneering : 
 
 " Don't trouble, Mrs Saxon. I certainly should 
 have wished to see her for myself, but, if it is not 
 to be it is not to be. You know, I shall insist 
 upon her going right away from here for a time. 
 Ah, well, good-evening ! Eh ? Not at all ! As you 
 think, it struck me as slightly strange that she " 
 
 Wilfred Spurr suddenly threw open that door. 
 The light of the hall lamp made out his face to be 
 almost pallid and haggard just then. 
 
 " Will you say it in here, and to me, Doctor 
 Lancing ? " he asked. " Just a moment no more ! " 
 And the other man, after a curve of the lip, could 
 do nothing but follow him in. The door closed. 
 Spurr turned quickly, and strode close. " Now ! 
 Ve are man to man ; we need not pick our words. 
 Let me hear what it is that you consider strange ! " 
 
 There was no light here. In the gloom, with
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 235 
 
 that vapour twisting, wreathing and hurrying out- 
 side like a living thing in blind, dumb agony, the 
 two men faced. For a moment, silence. Then 
 Gilbert Lancing had fallen back a step. His eyes 
 had quailed. He seemed to divine that some end 
 was in sight. 
 
 " You ? Pardon me, if I simply refuse to under- 
 stand," he vouchsafed, in a cold voice that just 
 trembled with hate. " I'll trouble you to let me 
 pass ! " 
 
 " Not yet. I want you. I overheard a hint 
 that Miss St John had purposely kept out of your 
 way. Just possibly, being a woman of insight, she 
 has done that. What then ? " 
 
 He did not move as the other's white, slim hand 
 shot out and gripped the lapel of his coat. He 
 glanced down at the delicate ringed fingers. 
 
 " You seem fond of doing that ! It was only 
 the other day that you allowed yourself the same 
 liberty." 
 
 " I'll go further ! " came in a whisper of sup- 
 pressed passion. "You wish to force a quarrel 
 with me over her name ? You can you shall ! 
 And you shall live to regret it. Who are you 
 what are you ? Does anyone here rightly know ? " 
 
 " Ask Miss St John," was the unmoved reply. " I 
 will speak of yourself, and definitely. You are a 
 man I should never trust beyond a locked door. On 
 the other hand, I have a deep respect for Miss St 
 John. And so, perhaps, you will make this your 
 last visit here. Send in your bill to me. In any 
 case, her affairs need not concern you from now." 
 
 " Nor you ! Nor you ! " he panted. That 
 deadly pallor had taken in his lips now ; around the
 
 236 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 pupils of the pale blue eyes was a rim of white. 
 " You cur ! You dare to " 
 
 His gloves were poised for a swish. For a 
 moment it seemed as if nothing in earth or in 
 heaven could stay the blow that, maybe, was all 
 Spurr asked. And just then the door opened. 
 Mrs Saxon entered with a lamp, set it down, and 
 darted an appealing glance at them as she passed. 
 It was enough. Doctor Lancing stooped for his 
 fallen hat. He had recovered his insouciance in 
 that flash of time. He could give a soft little 
 laugh as he turned at the door and realised that 
 the other man would not come to blows for the 
 mere sake of blows. 
 
 "Very good, Mr Wilfred Spurr to give you 
 your reputed full name ! Our little difference 
 shall not die of inanition. Remember that, will 
 you not? At any day you wish you can insult 
 me openly, in your approved Western manner, 
 and I shall be pleased to return the compliment 
 with my late groom's horsewhip." 
 
 " In the meantime," was the quiet reply, " step 
 out of Miss St John's house by my orders." 
 
 Doctor Lancing bit his under lip upon another 
 inward struggle, bowed, and crossed the hall. The 
 door clanged before Mrs Saxon could reach it 
 She turned in shocked awe to face the man who 
 was left. 
 
 " Hush ! " he said soothingly. " I can't enter 
 into anything of that now. Let him go. Where 
 te Miss St John?" 
 
 "How can I tell, sir? What could I say? It's 
 all stranger and stranger to me. Miss Sheba has 
 never breathed a word against him, that I know.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 237 
 
 She stood in there, touching the piano, as the 
 car came up. The moment his voice sounded 
 I saw her catch up something and fling it around 
 her head. When I ushered him in she had 
 vanished. It all seemed to happen in a moment. 
 What will be said ? What will he think ? " 
 
 " That he is found out." Spurr turned, and 
 wheeled round again, sinking his voice. " I have 
 wanted to ask you have you said anything to Miss 
 St John about the torn dress ? You are sure ? " 
 
 " Quite ! " she whispered excitedly. " I could 
 not. Mr Spurr, when I came to look more closely, 
 I found that two or three of her gowns were miss- 
 ing altogether from the wardrobe. I don't know 
 what to think. She surely cannot know, or she 
 would have spoken. I don't want to worry her 
 just now over a comparative trifle if it is that ! " 
 
 "If it is that!" he repeated absently, his eyes 
 looking past her. " Some day, Mrs Saxon, a light 
 will dawn on many things that trouble you and me 
 at this moment. I must see her. I'll find her." 
 
 He went out once more, as by some instinct. 
 The magical mist had thinned a good deal in that 
 brief interval ; he could make out the blurred out- 
 line of trees standing like giant sentinels at their 
 posts. He went carefully around the fringe of the 
 lawn, looking in all directions. Once or twice he 
 even ventured to call, in a low, reassuring voice : 
 " Are you there, Miss St John ? All is well ! " He 
 was feeling no uneasiness, but he thanked heaven 
 silently to know that a faint breeze from landward 
 was now turning the dark envelope of vapour back to 
 sea. It rolled and twisted past him, leaving patches 
 of soft twilight that widened every moment.
 
 238 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 He had come back to the path end, where the 
 house wall turned and the shrubbery began that 
 fenced the lawn on the right. And then of a 
 sudden he fairly sprang forward. It was nothing ; 
 and yet it was a definite surprise just then. 
 
 " Miss St John ! Here ? . . . Why, what is it 
 what has happened ? Tell me, at least ! " 
 
 Unnervingly still, the oval face blanched, a 
 fixed expression in the dilated, velvety eyes, she 
 was standing close against the creepered wall 
 like one who could shrink no farther. She did 
 not seem to hear the voice. She was listening- 
 listening. He looked carefully all around before 
 he could speak again. 
 
 " Come, come ! " He was lifting her passive 
 hands, as if he knew he should find them cold and 
 limp. He knew of no reason, but at that moment 
 it seemed asked of his manhood to hold and chafe 
 them in his own warm grasp. Long ago he had 
 divined what a sensitive, delicate organisation 
 pulsed in this frail slip of a woman's figure. 
 " Something has frightened you but don't let it 
 frighten you now," he said, looking closely down 
 into the unconscious face. And he felt the re- 
 sponsive tremble that thrilled to her finger tips. 
 
 " Wait ! She'll come back this way. I saw her 
 again I saw her ! " Sheba whispered, half to her- 
 self. "It was the same the figure I followed in that 
 dream. It seemed it seemed to be my own figure. 
 I followed it down there into the maze ; then 
 ^ lost it. It went that way to-night just now. 
 Oh, stand still let me know wait with me ! " 
 
 She was gazing straight ahead down the lawn. 
 At him she could not look. She was like a child
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 239 
 
 frightened in the night ; there was a cry gathering 
 in her breast that would not sound. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; be quite calm ; I am with you," he 
 said steadily. " You know there can be nothing to 
 fear. Yes, you told me. It was something you 
 had dreamed, you thought, and that seemed very 
 real. And the figure has passed you here, in just 
 the same way ? How long ago ? " 
 
 " I I could not tell you. Everything was a 
 blank for a time. I wanted to call out, and could 
 not. You will think me weak and wayward, but 
 I'm not I am not ! I came out here because 
 because I did not care to see Doctor Lancing 
 just then. As I stood listening for the car wheels 
 to move it passed me in the mist, hurrying that 
 way. There was no time to say a word or put 
 out a hand, even if I could. Its face was muffled 
 in something, just as it was in the dream it all 
 came back to me in a cold wave. Oh, you tell me 
 to be brave and calm tell me first what it means. 
 You are a man. You know you know ! " 
 
 He allowed a moment of silence to pass. He 
 held her hands a little more tightly, as she tried 
 to draw them away. He knew that for such a 
 woman there was communicating strength in a 
 hand-clasp. Then he stooped. 
 
 " I do not know. But I will tell you what I be- 
 lieve. You did not dream that, Miss St John. It 
 really happened, and might happen again. Yes ! 
 happened when you were moving and thinking 
 in your sleep. It is nothing ; far stranger things 
 than that have taken place. The wonderful part is, 
 that you got back to your room safe, and without 
 anyone knowing. That is only my theory, mind I
 
 240 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 But I do know for certainty that a person even 
 you could successfully accomplish in that condi- 
 tion something from which they would shudder in 
 their waking moments. You believe me? " 
 
 She looked up at him, her lips following the 
 movement of his own. If she understood, she 
 understood something too deep to admit of reply. 
 In her sleep ! In her sleep ! 
 
 " It is all to be made clear some day," he was 
 saying, in that wonderful, soothing voice. " Now, 
 let us think. I wonder I wonder if you could 
 point out the figure to me ? See, the mist is half 
 gone ; it will be a warm moonlit night again soon 
 then you will see things quite differently. There, 
 take my arm, and walk to the end of the lawn. 
 This way ! We can keep close along the shrubbery, 
 if you wish. When in fear walk straight toward 
 the object you dread and it vanishes ! " 
 
 She obeyed, as if compelled by a superior will- 
 power. Her arm resting upon his, she moved 
 slowly along beside him, their feet making no 
 sound on the shorn grass. No other word was 
 spoken until, glancing back, he saw that the house 
 was quite out of sight. 
 
 " Now we'll turn," he whispered. " You see for 
 yourself there is no one here nothing to - " 
 
 It was a breath that thrilled the man through 
 and through again. She drew away, and pointed, 
 little sobs forming and breaking in her throat. 
 
 "You you did not believe me. You could not 
 no one could. Look ! Don't don't tell me it 
 is not standing there 1 "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 IF Wilfred Spurr's experience of women was small, 
 no less true was it that nature had given him a 
 rare gift of intuition and adaptation. 
 
 There was no time to think. In a flash he 
 had grasped that the great game played by Fate 
 had taken one more dramatic twist to-night that 
 something might hinge upon his action which 
 should lift the veil surrounding himself and this 
 pure girl whose figure trembled so close against 
 his own. 
 
 He had thrown out his arms placed his hand 
 over her lips. One cry from those lips might ruin 
 all In a moment he had mastered the situation, 
 taken one swift glance through the thinning haze, 
 and turned, to look deep into Sheba's eyes. 
 
 " Silence ! Obey me ! Try and believe that it 
 was to be ! Put your whole faith in me ! " 
 
 Just that, with the warning pressure of his 
 fingers. And Sheba seemed to understand what 
 was working in his brain. She stood perfectly still, 
 her tremble dying away. 
 
 " I do I will ! " she said. 
 
 Spurr drew her close back against the shrubbery. 
 He faced round again carefully. A mere dozen 
 paces away, perhaps, the cloaked and hooded 
 figure of a woman had suddenly, soundlessly, 
 taken shape through the slow-moving mist. Just 
 beyond her was looming another a taller a 
 Q 241
 
 242 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 man's figure. The woman seemed to have waited 
 here, and to be beckoning impatiently. The taller 
 figure drew level with apparent reluctance. His 
 coat collar was turned up.half shrouding a colourless 
 face that stared towards the house. Then, just as 
 ethereally, both seemed to glide out of sight as 
 behind a curtain. 
 
 Watching as he had never watched yet, Wilfred 
 Spurr racked his memory for a word and found it : 
 
 " The maze ! " 
 
 Just at that spot, quite nebulous in the vapoury 
 half-light, was the arched entrance to Spartan 
 Loder's queer retreat the labyrinth that his 
 nephew had so ingloriously essayed to explore. 
 All the recollections of that day crowded back 
 upon Spurr now. It was a woman's figure then 
 that had trod the place like a phantom ; it was 
 a woman's tangible shape to-night which had 
 again struck the note of mystery there. And 
 something else! He knew, as without knowing, 
 that the same two figures had flown before him in 
 the plantation belt upon another occasion burned 
 in his memory. It was all coming home to him 
 coming home ! 
 
 He turned again to Sheba. 
 
 " Don't be frightened. That hooded cloak it is 
 your own, taken from your wardrobe ! " 
 
 And her eyes gave him the answer that her lips 
 refused. 
 
 " And and," he whispered on, fitting together 
 link and link before he moved, "you have a delaine 
 robe, with sprays of wisteria blossom worked in 
 silk upon it. It was worn that day by the woman 
 who is wearing your hooded cloak now the
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 243 
 
 woman whom you rose to follow in your drugged 
 sleep when she stole in and out of your room the 
 woman who has crept from the house and back 
 time upon time, trusting to be identified with you. 
 With you ! " 
 
 A little passionate break had threatened his 
 voice ; he checked it instantly. Only a few seconds 
 could have passed since that thrilling breath had 
 left Sheba's lips. Barely five more had been lost 
 before, as in a dream once more, Sheba found 
 herself standing within hand's reach of the arched 
 entrance itself. Wilfred Spurr's arm had drawn 
 her. He would not leave her would not let her 
 go : whatever was to be faced must be faced by 
 both. They stood motionless now, that arm 
 girdling Sheba's figure as with the tender strength 
 and reassurance of one who could and should be 
 trusted to guard her well. 
 
 He was waiting for what? All was quiet so 
 quiet that she could hear the slow, thick throb 
 of her own heart against his gripping arm. And 
 then, of a sudden, a faint little glow wavered above 
 that horizontal buttress of privet which shut out 
 the exit to anyone inside the maze. It grew 
 brighter brighter. Now it was a halo, with a 
 sickly and unreal look. And it was followed by 
 a woman's low laugh cold, contained, and yet 
 fighting against hysteria, as it sounded. 
 
 " I must I must laugh ! If you could see your 
 face ! It is you who are most afraid ! " 
 
 " I own it," was the husky reply. " I am afraid 
 for you not for myself. Why could you want 
 such a bright glare ? Are you aware that it can 
 be seen from every window of the house ? Are you
 
 244 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 quite lost to your womanhood to the risks you 
 run ? " 
 
 " The risk I run in being seen alone with Doctor 
 Gilbert Lancing ? What would some women pay 
 for that risk ! " She seemed to throw back her 
 head and clasp her hands, as she knelt over the 
 lantern. She seemed to be bent upon some per- 
 versity to which he must submit. " Carlotta Bar- 
 rington, for instance ! There, lower the light, as 
 you shake so ! You should be grateful for the 
 mist, but you are not. You are a coward when 
 put to the test I knew that. Yes ; fall back on 
 your cigarette that man's refuge when he can- 
 not face a woman's eyes ! If I had dared to tell 
 you what I wanted here you would have played 
 me some trick. Now, you cannot. What have 
 you told your chauffeur ? " 
 
 It was Sister Judith Cottrell. One more, and 
 the last, quiver had gone through Sheba's figure as 
 she realised the voice that answered. It was tense 
 and thick, but it could only belong to the man 
 who had thrice set himself to win her, and thrice 
 had been beaten back. And Wilfred Spurr knew, 
 too. She heard his teeth give a little click, as 
 that voice came again : 
 
 " A lie, of course. The man who identifies him- 
 self with a jealous, unscrupulous woman expects 
 to become an expert liar." Apparently he had 
 been stooping to watch her. Now he straightened 
 up, the crown of his silk hat just visible above the 
 buttress. " It is not that I am not afraid of his 
 tongue. It is you I mistrust. I have kept my 
 faith with you so far, but there is a limit. What 
 is it that you wished to tell me here ? "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 245 
 
 " Your faith ? And why ? You meant to break 
 it, but something told you that I was master 
 that you could never gain your ends without my 
 assistance," came the low, scornful reply. " You 
 dreaded being seen in my company again, and yet 
 you are waiting to snatch at what help I can " 
 
 " Enough of that ! " he put in, nervously fierce. 
 " All that was discussed and agreed upon. Say 
 at once what you expect me to risk on your 
 account. So far, mind, I have committed myself 
 to no promise. I am in a dangerous position 
 myself. What is this place ? Why are we waiting 
 here ? What were you afraid of my knowing ? " 
 
 " You don't recognise it ? You haven't the faint- 
 est idea of my errand here ? No ; how should 
 you ? " came the breathless little ghost of a laugh. 
 To listening ears it conveyed that she was staring 
 ahead into the depths of the labyrinth. She 
 sought to gain time, still mistrusting her wisdom 
 in trusting this man with a confidence. " This, 
 Gilbert, is only the maze." 
 
 " What ! " he whispered sharply. 
 
 " The maze. Quite still ! you need not jump 
 to the fear that I wish to leave you in a trap. No ; 
 I must tell you something something that I know 
 well you will never believe. You give me credit, 
 I know, for being able to dare and do many things 
 that the woman of your hopes to-night would 
 shrink from as an angel might shrink from a devil. 
 But the irony of it ! I dare not venture through 
 this place alone ! " 
 
 The man's breath was drawn hissingly, incredu- 
 lously, through his teeth. 
 
 " I said you were mad and you are ! What do
 
 246 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 you mean ? In heaven's name, what is behind all 
 this ? Curse everything " 
 
 " Never mind what I mean. And don't dare 
 to speak in that tone to me again ! One day, 
 Gilbert " 
 
 " Go on ! Go on ! My car's waiting ! " 
 
 " Let it wait. One day I had a shock here, and 
 not all the money in the world could tempt me to 
 repeat the experience. Mad or not, I tell you, if I 
 went along that path alone now, I should suddenly 
 stop and scream scream ! And yet it had to be 
 done, and after dark ; and I determined that you 
 should help me. Because we know so much of 
 each other's secret hopes and fears that we are 
 bound to trust each other to a certain point. 
 Don't fear ! " she broke off witheringly. " I won't 
 overstep the limit ! You're a man. Take up the 
 lamp, and keep close behind me that is all you 
 have to do ! " 
 
 " But why ? " he insisted. " What on earth can 
 you want in this place, at this time of night? " 
 
 She said something to herself, and stood silent 
 for a minute, as if asking herself whether she 
 dared rely upon herself alone. Then her voice, 
 more calm and characteristic, came again : 
 
 " It is nothing to you. Believe that, if you 
 believe nothing else. There are some papers in 
 this maze I want, and have waited day after day 
 to obtain. As no opportunity came, I have made 
 one. Yes, papers here, in the maze ! You shall 
 see all in a moment ; at least, you shall satisfy 
 yourself that that is all I require. Meanwhile, 
 you are at my mercy. Follow me quietly, and you 
 can be back in your house in thirty minutes ; and
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 247 
 
 there is no one in the world to call you to account 
 for those minutes. To-night or never, I say. 
 Candidly, if you refuse, I care nothing what 
 happens. I should take care that you you, 
 Gilbert Lancing, with such a reputation at stake 
 are involved in the scandal. I fear the place, I 
 tell you I, who fear nothing else in the world ! 
 And it was that same man, that lion in your own 
 path, who put the fear into me. Now do you 
 understand ? " 
 
 " That man Spurr?" 
 
 " Spurr ! Yes ; how you love him ! " she went 
 on, in the terribly calm, mocking voice. " He was 
 here when I came alone for those papers child's 
 work as it was to me then. For all I knew, he 
 had found out something, and meant to forestall 
 me. I was only sure of one thing : he had no plan 
 of the place, and, without that, was like a man 
 wandering in a jungle. Spurr! He hunted me 
 from path to path, till the place seemed full of 
 eyes, alive with hands waiting to clutch me. Only 
 the precaution I had taken beforehand saved me 
 that day." 
 
 "Spurr!" He seemed to grind his teeth, to 
 strain out his slim, white hands in a passion that 
 obscured all else. " Heavens, if I had dared, that 
 night! If I held him here now as I held him 
 then ! I could kill him I could face the conse- 
 quences ! I was never nearer it than I was 
 to-night. It wanted but one movement one 
 more word ; and he knows it. And the time will 
 come yet ! " 
 
 "Ah!" she breathed eagerly. "You realise 
 that you owe your downfall to him. Hear this !
 
 248 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 These papers these papers I want are the very 
 documents that would open his eyes, tell him all 
 he burns to know. Let me get them, let me place 
 them out of his reach, and you are more than 
 revenged, if you knew it. And and, through me, 
 you could make him buy them back at your own 
 price. Your own price Sheba! . . . Quick, the 
 lamp ! I can come at them in a few minutes. If 
 
 only you will " 
 
 " Yes ! But what if we were discovered in 
 
 case you lost your way " 
 
 " Fool ! It is here, written on my brain. I 
 know every path by heart. I possess the one and 
 only plan to the maze ; up in that room I have 
 sat and studied it while the others slept. What 
 would they have given for that plan ! Day after 
 day I have looked out from those windows, know- 
 ing that practically I could stretch out my hands 
 and make sure of the papers ; and yet my every 
 attempt to nerve myself has failed. I dared not 
 venture farther than this spot ; it seemed that the 
 hand was waiting in the darkness to grip me. I 
 knew, if only a twig touched me, I must lose my 
 precious sanity. That shall not happen to me ! " 
 she panted. "Not now; not now I am so near 
 accomplishing all I live to do. Don't pester me 
 with your questions ; it is your policy to keep me 
 quite calm. What is it to you, just to keep close 
 to me, even if you loathe me so ! You have 
 a man's strength, and you know nothing of a 
 woman's inner feelings. Say yes or no, at once 
 V_at once ! " 
 
 " One moment ! " the man gasped. These papers : 
 when you have them what then ? What are they ?
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 249 
 
 If they could be used against me afterwards in 
 
 any way if she were to hear " 
 
 " You unutterable coward ! " Judith Cottrell 
 whispered, with scorn indescribable. " Must I 
 say it again ? I ask you to risk nothing nothing ! 
 Cannot you understand? This concerns myself 
 alone. I have something to do ; I dare not put 
 it off a day longer. I am suspected on all sides 
 perhaps even watched. Only one person in that 
 house has a good word for me Mrs Saxon! 
 The papers lie simply where they have lain, per- 
 haps, for years. I want them. Hurry, hurry, 
 while the mist holds ! This way ! It is so simple ; 
 and yet there is only one person living to-night 
 who knows where and why Spartan Loder . . ."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE voice had died away as they die in a dream. 
 All was silence again. 
 
 And then Wilfred Spurr came to himself, and 
 ventured to look down into the pale, oval face of 
 the woman who had listened with him. He would 
 not speak ; his eyes alone asked the swift question, 
 and Sheba read it. 
 
 " No," she said softly ; " I am not afraid not 
 now. Don't think of me at all. Act for the best, 
 think only of yourself! " 
 
 For the best! It was a wild, whirling moment. 
 What to do ? Leave her there, and run back to 
 the house for assistance ? or strike at once after 
 those two sinister figures through the windings 
 of the maze? Till this hour he had stubbornly 
 put Judith Cottrell out of his thoughts wished 
 to forget that such a woman had an existence in 
 the same house. But a revelation had gone through 
 his brain like lightning through darkness. Those 
 papers ! they must be had at any cost ! That 
 mere thought baffled sane reflection. Did he 
 hesitate, the chance might be swept away from 
 him. 
 
 He would not. Before either fairly realised, his 
 arm had fallen away from Sheba's slight figure, 
 caught her hand, drew her forward, and they 
 were in the maze. 
 
 That wavering glow was just vanishing at the 
 end of a path on the extreme left. Judith knew! 
 
 250
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 251 
 
 that central avenue led nowhere. They hurried 
 silently forward and now it was only just ahead 
 of them, glimmering along a path to the extreme 
 right. They drew up for a second, their fingers 
 unconsciously interlocked in suspense, and then 
 pressed forward once more. Yet again sharply 
 to the left, one more abrupt turn to the right, 
 and then Spurr had roughly grasped Spartan 
 Loder's main scheme. Simplicity itself when 
 known ! The route to the heart of the maze was 
 shaped like a length of closed trelliswork from 
 left to right at an angle, and vice versa. All in- 
 tersecting paths were so many distracting blinds. 
 The one difficulty could be in keeping to the true 
 angles. 
 
 With never a pause, as steadily as if each turn- 
 ing possessed a number tallying with one upon 
 her mental chart, that weird figure of Sister Judith 
 went forward ; the tall, stooping man with the 
 grey kid gloves and silk hat, looking strangely 
 out of place in this environment, close behind her. 
 The halo from his lantern danced just ahead of 
 them, dimmed by a thin veil of mist. It had 
 become a mechanical tramp ; Sheba knew only 
 that her fingers were held and that her feet moved. 
 Her heart-beats seemed to be suspended, until 
 of a sudden Spurr's teeth gave that little click 
 again. She could just keep back a cry, as he 
 drew her aside into a patch of shadow and held 
 her motionless with his strong arms. 
 
 " Look ! " he whispered. 
 
 She looked, and would never in life forget. 
 
 They were upon the rim of a circular open 
 space or clearing. That wavering glow showed 
 that the ground sloped slightly up to a knoll in
 
 252 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 the centre ; and there upon the knoll, shaped like 
 a conical beehive of glass and ironwork, stood the 
 little pavilion where dead Spartan Loder had 
 passed so many hours alone with his thoughts 
 and what ? 
 
 The dead man's spirit seemed to hover here 
 to wave them coldly back. They were like in- 
 truders in the vault of some old cathedral. Sheba 
 strained every faculty for the sake of the man 
 beside her, but nothing seemed real to her she 
 would never be able to believe that it had actually 
 happened. 
 
 The cloaked and hooded woman's figure had 
 stolen forward alone, pushed open a creaking door, 
 and stared into the silent pavilion. Silent ? It was 
 as if the fall of a feather could be heard ; as if the 
 throb of a pulse had sound. Sister Judith had shud- 
 dered back as though the deadman'seyes guardian 
 of his treasure had stared back at her. 
 
 She stole forward again, framed in the waver- 
 ing light. Now she was down upon her knees. 
 There was the continuous clink as of some metal 
 lever feverishly at work. Just behind, his face 
 yellow and ghastly as he held up the lantern, 
 his sick eyes staring from left to right, leaned 
 Doctor Gilbert Lancing. To him, too, perhaps, 
 the scene had no connection with actual life. 
 He was in the grip of deadliest fear and misgiving 
 his thoughts were not with those of the kneel- 
 ing woman there. He had started convulsively as 
 she suddenly swayed upright and faced him, both 
 hands drawn up tightly against her breast. 
 
 " Found ! " thrilled her breath, trembling, ecstatic. 
 " Mine ! I win ! Your turn next ! You hear ? 
 your turn next ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 253 
 
 Found ! There came the hollow clang, as of 
 a stone slab sinking back into its frame. She 
 held up something for a second put it to her 
 lips ; then it had been thrust into her dress folds 
 she would trust not even the man standing there. 
 It had seemed so superlatively easy ! She was 
 clutching his shoulder as with a back-rush of 
 that fear of the silent place where the secret had 
 lain unsuspected so long. 
 
 " Gilbert ! what was that ? You heard nothing 
 nothing ? Swear it ! " she broke out in a gasping 
 wail. " Yes, take me away ! It is stifling me it 
 is pressing upon my brain ! Eyes eyes every- 
 where ! " Her veering fingers pointed past him. 
 "Just there just down that path! As near as 
 that I had got safely, and still he came creeping 
 on tiptoe after me ; his face looked at me. God ! 
 if he had known ! I had brought a knife with 
 me yes, a knife. I must have used it. But it 
 was her dress her dress that closed his lips and 
 saved me. No, no this way not as we came! 
 To the left this time then to the right. Don't 
 let me lose my thoughts now. Quick ! " 
 
 She flitted forward ; the man stumbled after 
 her ; they were gone. It was a full minute before 
 Wilfred Spurr could throw off his stupefaction, 
 much less take in that the thing was an accom- 
 plished fact. And then, as he made to start in 
 pursuit, he had to grasp that the hand still gripped 
 within his own had been growing lifeless and cold. 
 
 " Miss St John ! Sheba no ! " He called her 
 huskily by that name, as the new dread swept him. 
 " Quick, they are gone. Sheba, for all you hold 
 dear, be brave a little longer! Set your teeth 
 hold my arm ! I dare not stir a step from you ! "
 
 254 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " Yes, leave me ! You go come back ! " her 
 lips would just say. 
 
 " Never ! Oh, help me, if you can ! Try once 
 more look up think what it may mean for both. 
 Just the one great effort ! If you only could for 
 your own sake ! " 
 
 His sunken, imploring breaths had seemed to 
 be calling to her across a widening gulf. What it 
 cost her to make the effort he need never know, 
 but she laid her hands upon his, forced her closing 
 eyes to stare up, and then presently, with a little 
 sob, had fought back the woman's weakness and 
 drawn herself free, to prove it. 
 
 " You go ! " she begged. " You go on ! I can 
 follow I shall not fail you now ! " 
 
 " Bless you for that ! " 
 
 The words choked up gratefully in his throat. 
 He sprang forward, ever glancing over his shoulder 
 to be sure that her strength was equal to her 
 courage. From left to right from right to left ; 
 he repeated the formula to himself as he pressed 
 along the shadowy, coffin-like paths, realising what 
 one mistake might mean. The glimmering lantern 
 was shut out now, but he would not pause. And 
 at last his heart gave a rare leap. He could have 
 shouted ; he felt like a man who had crawled from 
 some dark pit into sunlight. 
 
 There was the arched slit of an entrance ; and 
 there, indistinctly outlined against the misty lawn 
 beyond, were the two figures. For the last time 
 he pressed Sheba's arm. 
 
 "That was great great! Safe now! Stand 
 quite still we may soon know all ! " 
 
 It was the merest murmur, that none but herself 
 could possibly have heard. But, just as he turned
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 255 
 
 to steal stoopingly forward, the face of the hooded 
 woman had turned, and she had given that strain- 
 ing cry : 
 
 " Look ! Betrayed ! He knows ! Spurr Spurr ! 
 the man for ever in your path ! " 
 
 And what next? The blind rush, and then 
 partial chaos. It was all or nothing now, and 
 Spurr had taken his leap the leap that would 
 bring his hand against Sister Judith's throat. The 
 papers ! For the moment he had forgotten Gilbert 
 Lancing completely would have sprung past, to 
 remember and deal with him later. But Lancing 
 was not to realise that in a flash. 
 
 " The man in your path ! " 
 
 That cry of hers rang in his ears. Stung above 
 all by the knowledge that he was unmasked by 
 the very man he had most reason to hate, goaded 
 by opportunity, he launched his body forward at 
 an angle and struck out a shower of blows. They 
 checked the other man's determined rush, and 
 gave Sister Judith her precious moment. Next 
 instant, maddened by the sight of her figure 
 slipping away through the mist, Spurr had closed 
 with his opponent, to fling him out of the way like 
 a dog. 
 
 Grinding, straining, panting, their locked figures 
 swayed to and fro on the slippery turf. Spurr 
 had knotted both hands behind the slighter man's 
 waist, and was tightening every muscle for a 
 throw that should spell finality ; but for the 
 minute Gilbert Lancing's blaze of passion and 
 length of reach balked him. Those slim fingers 
 had wound themselves about Spurr's throat in a 
 suffocating clutch that throttled his effort to shout. 
 Twice he shook himself free of it by a supreme
 
 256 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 effort, and twice the red mist gathered before him 
 as the fingers found their grip again. He became 
 still as he realised. Lancing's breath was puffing 
 in sharp bursts ; he fought and moaned like a man 
 who knew that he must be beaten and dreaded 
 most the humiliation. 
 
 " Curse you curse you ! " he foamed, his -blue 
 eyes flaming. " You sha'n't go you can't get 
 away ! You shall carry my mark know that 
 you owed it to me. You can't get away no ! " 
 
 And then wough ! He was swung up like a 
 dead stick, and thrown heavily. He made a con- 
 vulsive attempt to struggle up again, but collapsed, 
 his fingers twitching upon the lawn grass. Wilfred 
 Spurr staggered clear, staring, wiping the sweat 
 from his forehead to realise that Sheba stood 
 motionless there. 
 
 "Miss St John!" he gasped. " Quick that 
 woman! Back to the house, while I take the 
 road ! " 
 
 But she heard nothing. She stood as if changed 
 into marble. 
 
 " Through me ! " he heard her say, as to herself. 
 "It has happened through me. You have killed 
 him killed him ! " 
 
 "Miss St John! Don't! see for yourself!" 
 He had drawn her forward, and made her stoop in 
 the twilight. " He is barely stunned it is nothing. 
 You don't realise ! Those papers we are losing 
 them! Quick!" 
 
 Five minutes, perhaps scarcely more had 
 ticked by since that cry from Sister Judith's lips, 
 when Wilfred Spurr burst through the drawing- 
 room, with that shout of " Mrs Saxon ! " The hall 
 was clear ; no one answered. He sprang up the
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 257 
 
 main staircase. Just as it happened, Mrs Saxon 
 was sweeping toward him down the branch corridor, 
 and paused in stupefaction at his face. 
 
 " Miss Sheba ! " she whimpered at once. " What 
 is it what has happened ? " 
 
 " No no ! That woman ! " he panted. " Guard 
 all the doors. If she is here, she shall not leave 
 the house until " 
 
 " Who ? who ? What woman ? Can you mean 
 Sister Judith ? " She clapped her hands, and drew 
 back, as a light broke in upon her. " Mr Spurr, 
 you must have passed her. Passed her! She 
 went down the stairs not two minutes ago. The 
 nurse Miss Cottrell yes ! " 
 
 " Went down ? But but she could hardly have 
 got to her room in the time ! " He hesitated, 
 drawn all ways by a dozen different impulses. 
 
 "I'm positive!" Mrs Saxon declared. "She 
 passed me at the top. She was hurrying, and did 
 not answer me. I thought it strange she had on 
 her hat and jacket, and was carrying that sealskin 
 bag of hers. Come and look in her room, sir, if 
 you don't " 
 
 The rest was lost. Spurr was half-way down the 
 stairs, and stumbling across to the hall door. Out 
 upon the drive he paused. Quite dark now, and 
 nothing to be seen. The blood pulsing at fever- 
 heat through his veins, he set off down the avenue. 
 He was near the gate when his heart took that 
 jump. He leaped aside into the shrubbery and 
 gripped at something an arm that had pushed 
 through the evergreens. A head followed it. He 
 could only just whisper, so keen was the disap- 
 pointment : 
 
 " Transome you ! " 
 R
 
 258 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "I'm afraid you're right, sir! I never expected 
 to see Mr Wilfred Spurr again to-night, though ! " 
 
 " But but what are you doing here ? Quick ! " 
 And Transome wiped his lips. 
 
 " Don't take it amiss, sir ! I was having a little 
 private look round the place, on that little matter 
 
 of ours. I feel sure Anything wrong, Mr Spurr? 
 
 That's the second shock I've had in one minute. 
 It's not that time ago since I saw Doctor Lancing 
 limp by me and across the grounds that white 
 and queer-looking, I couldn't find my voice. And 
 then you " 
 
 " Hark ! " Spurr shot up his finger. There was 
 the distant hum of cylinders puffing and wheels 
 starting. " Lancing ! " he breathed to himself. 
 " He has got away I can do nothing ! " Once 
 more he shook the startled inspector by the 
 shoulder. "You saw no one else no sign of a 
 woman anywhere?" 
 
 " Not the ghost of one, sir or I might have 
 started wondering ! " 
 
 Spurr whispered. The two men started off 
 together. But the trail was lost. In truth, it had 
 never been found. 
 
 Two hours later that night all Felcote knew that 
 Doctor Gilbert Lancing had been suddenly sum- 
 moned away to the north on vital business, and 
 might be away for an indefinite period. The 
 probable name of his locum-tenens was already 
 being discussed. 
 
 And the woman Sister Judith Cottrell ? 
 
 She had dropped out of sight as a falling star 
 vanishes down the firmament. 
 
 And with her had gone the secret which Spartan 
 Loder had so nearly carried to his grave.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A MILD, balmy evening, one week later. Soft, 
 silent rain had been falling for hours, and the 
 London pavements gleamed blackly ; but now the 
 tearful south-west wind had given way to a breeze 
 from the west alone. It puffed a final spray of drops 
 against the closely veiled face of a woman alight- 
 ing from a hansom at the corner of a thoroughfare 
 in quiet Brixton. She paused a second, to let 
 someone go by, and glanced up at the street name 
 on the wall. 
 
 "You said Ardilaun Street, ma'am, and this is 
 it," remarked the cabman. 
 
 " I know ; I know it quite well. I may want 
 you wait here until I return ! " 
 
 Those few steady words, and she had moved 
 swiftly on before the cabman could whistle, much 
 less reply that the day of deferred fares had gone 
 by. Only a woman could have done it in that 
 calm way ! 
 
 It was at Number 19 that she drew up. Twice 
 she passed and repassed, watching the light behind 
 a bay window on the right. Then presently a faint 
 shadow wavered over the blind. Instantly she 
 was at the door, and had knocked. Bending back, 
 she had time to see that light in the bay window 
 go lower and lower. And then the door was 
 opened slowly. From the space of a few inches a 
 woman stared suspiciously out at the veiled face. 
 
 259
 
 260 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " Again ! " she said significantly. 
 
 " Precisely. I told you that I meant to see Mr 
 Manisty. I keep to my word, you see." 
 
 "You do, eh? And I told you that you had 
 come to the wrong house for your purpose, miss 
 or madam ! " 
 
 "Are you so sure of that?" queried the dull, 
 quiet voice, just tinged with irony. "You might 
 look at this! Have you ever seen such a card as 
 that before ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and handled them ; and wished to 
 heaven I had never had the opportunity. I have 
 no idea what you may be to the gentleman, but I 
 tell you this for the third and last time : he went 
 abroad somewhere. Where, is not my business. 
 At anyrate, he has gone from here." 
 
 " I am sorry on his account ! I expected that 
 answer, however, and I took the trouble to watch. 
 A lie ! Not your lie, but his. Look there ! " She 
 pushed back the door suddenly, and calmly pointed 
 to a hall stand. "Yes; there it is. I saw it be- 
 fore, you know. Perhaps he left you that hat and 
 fur-trimmed travelling ulster in part payment of a 
 debt? Yes; that would be it!" 
 
 "You're very keen even for a lady detective!" 
 stammered the woman. " I believe the gentleman 
 had more than one expensive outfit. He had 
 rooms here, too, once upon a time. When you 
 show me your ticket of authority I'll conduct you 
 over my house. Meantime, it's private. Good- 
 evening, miss or madam ! " 
 
 " I understand." The veiled visitor, her hand 
 still upon the door, raised her voice slightly. " Will 
 you tell him, as soon as you have closed this door,
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 261 
 
 that he had nothing to fear, but a great deal to 
 gain ? He has lost something, at anyrate, worth a 
 more ingenious story than yours. He may think 
 again. I can wait out here." 
 
 A pause. In that pause a door on the right 
 opened a few inches. A face haggard, hunted, 
 unshaven peered out for a glimpse of the visitor. 
 It was enough. Before the face could with- 
 draw she had pointed, with a little catch of her 
 breath : 
 
 *' That is he ! Let me speak let him hear me ! 
 You need have no distrust this time, Mr Swift I 
 mean, Mr Manisty ! I have waited nearly a week, 
 with some news of a house by the sea. Not long 
 ago you would have risked life and soul for that 
 news. I can give it to you for nothing ! " 
 
 The long, animal-like stare. He feared yet 
 wondered. Then he had stepped out, with an 
 attempt at a sickly bow. He looked from one 
 woman to the other, a hand to his throat, as if 
 prepared for collusion. But the one he knew was 
 drawn back stiffly, and the other had craned for- 
 ward with a searing whisper : 
 
 " What was behind the clock ? Think back ! " 
 
 The hunted eyes flinched. The hoarse rattle of 
 a voice sounded at once : 
 
 " Come in here ! I have been ill, and could see 
 no one. I gave my housekeeper those orders 
 don't blame her I " 
 
 He held open his door. The visitor paused, and 
 felt in a sealskin bag. 
 
 " Wait a moment. You owe her money ? " 
 
 And the woman laughed bitterly. 
 
 " Oh, a mere nothing ! What are twenty pounds
 
 262 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 or so to a gentleman whose ship is always on the 
 point of coming home ? " 
 
 "Ah! It may come home yet," came the 
 other woman's calm whisper. " Twenty ? I have 
 not nearly so much with me ; if I had you should 
 have it. I am in the curious frame of mind that 
 does not value money ; I have no further use for a 
 superfluity of it." She caught her breath again in 
 a sound almost like a hard sob suppressed. Spell- 
 bound, fascinated, they watched her gloved fingers 
 unroll a strip of rustling paper. " Yes, only a five- 
 pound note. Yours, if it is of any use to you. He 
 may be able to settle his bill, with a bonus soon." 
 
 Manisty's eyes glittered and watered. His voice 
 rattled : 
 
 " Not another like that to spare ? " 
 
 He fell back. She had turned on him with that 
 searing, contemptuous breath. 
 
 " You ! Wait ! Wait, and see if you care to pay 
 my price ! " 
 
 They were two against one, but she appeared 
 never to have known the meaning of the word 
 "fear." It was she who entered the sitting-room 
 first, pointed him to stand at the far side of a centre 
 table, and closed and locked the door. She did it 
 all with a calm, compelling power hypnotic in its 
 effect. It cowed the clever, daring criminal as 
 nothing else could have done ; he knew not what 
 might underlie the position ; it was as if a tamer 
 had suddenly entered the cage and crackled a 
 whip. And, after all, the man was little more 
 than an animal. She seemed to be thinking that 
 as she stood so still and watched him. She meant 
 that he should speak first ; and he did.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 263 
 
 " Well ? Who are you ? Who sent you ? " the 
 dry lips asked. 
 
 " Stand perfectly still keep your place there 1 
 No ; she is not a police-agent, Mr Manisty ! Simply 
 a woman ; or, rather, that very different thing a 
 woman scorned ! Perhaps you won't understand 
 that ; your intelligence has moved in other spheres 
 of thought, I believe. For just this moment I am 
 the woman who holds you in the hollow of her 
 hand. Realise that." 
 
 "Who are you?" he muttered, wiping his lips 
 again. " I never feared a woman yet. Up with 
 that veil ! " 
 
 He was moving round for a leap toward the door. 
 
 She simply waited, pointing him back to his 
 place. And, intuitively recognising hidden power 
 and resources that might have prepared a trap, he 
 slowly obeyed the finger. 
 
 " Now ! We understand each other ; I need not 
 keep you in that suspense." She flashed up the 
 veil, and leaned toward him. There was the hard, 
 stone-like face ; there brooded the fathomless eyes, 
 with that suggestion of mockery flickering in their 
 depths ; there were the thin lips, compressed in 
 cold, unalterable purpose. " You do not know 
 me ? You should ! Has my face never looked at 
 you in the night ? Do you remember how eagerly 
 you sought it once how you looked round and 
 round an oak-panelled room to find me ? . . . 
 What is the matter ? You never feared a woman 
 yet!" 
 
 Fear? No, that was not the word. Step by 
 step he had retreated back to the wall, and stood 
 there,his twitching hands out as in delirium tremens,
 
 264 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 his ash-grey lips refusing to sound the words that 
 rattled in his throat. 
 
 " Yes ; I see that Mr Manisty remembers clearly. 
 And you understand what it may mean for you. 
 That will do ! " she said, with her terrible quiet- 
 ness. " I have not had time to alter materially, 
 have I ? When I last saw you, you wore a beard 
 like someone who shall be nameless. And your 
 face was stained his colour. I had guessed you 
 would be hiding near the house, waiting some 
 chance to land the coup of your career ; and I 
 guessed dread and hunger would eventually drive 
 you off back here to London. If you had known ! 
 
 " Listen ! In that house there was one woman 
 who could have spared you all that trouble, agony, 
 and failure. But we were at cross-purposes ; I 
 could never hope to come near you. The papers 
 you wanted ! Remember it ? I do ; every word 
 that he uttered that night. A tin box, wrapped 
 in cloth, hidden behind the clock pendulum. The 
 directions in that box were to take you, and you 
 only, to the spot where he had placed his will 
 and the deeds ! You missed them by the space of 
 a few minutes. While you were hesitating and 
 bracing your nerves heaven knows, I can under- 
 stand that hesitation ! while you were listening 
 and watching to be sure, someone had dared and 
 done. You follow me ? " 
 
 Yes, he followed her. It was a refinement of 
 cruelty to ask it to pause. She went calmly on : 
 
 " Someone had turned out the hall light below 
 and gained a moment's darkness in which to 
 forestall you. You would have failed, in any case. 
 Only a woman could have used those few inter-
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 265 
 
 vening seconds successfully only a woman, I 
 mean, who had nothing more to live for than to 
 efface herself! You missed them, and so lost the 
 clue to the will and the deeds. And it is I who 
 have them here ! 
 
 " No ; please don't move ! I know exactly what 
 flashed through your brain, but it can die out 
 again. I know my world thoroughly now, and 
 despise it more deeply than I can tell you. And 
 yet, low as I have fallen to-night in coming here 
 with a purpose, I prefer to keep just this distance 
 between myself and a man who " 
 
 Another pause. She seemed to listen to the 
 low roar of London's traffic all around them. She 
 seemed to think for the last time. fThen it came : 
 
 " a man who should be awaiting his trial 
 
 for murder in cold blood."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 "MURDER!" 
 
 Quietly spoken, the most awful of all known 
 words died away and seemed to come back to the 
 room in an echo, to remain there. Manisty had 
 strained both hands to his ears, as if to shut it out. 
 His staring eyes looked past her at the door the 
 look of a man who thought there must surely come 
 a drumming at the panels. Time upon time that 
 something rattled in his throat almost like the 
 sound of pebbles shaken in a box. Minutes had 
 passed before he could believe that the silence 
 held that he could speak. 
 
 " Who ? What what do you mean by that ? " 
 he asked thickly. 
 
 " Let it pass if you intend to take that attitude." 
 Sister Judith's immovable face, the lips still set 
 in that tigerish curve, watched him with steady 
 contempt. " I have only to go from here and 
 speak out, to prove to you what I mean. I need 
 only restore this name-card of yours to the gentle- 
 man who shall be nameless, and by to-morrow 
 an end would come to the mystery that is eating 
 to-night into a woman's heart. You follow me ? 
 you know the woman I mean ? Her name was 
 entrusted to you in connection with a will, if you 
 remember. Sheba ! And do you can you guess 
 the one reason why I have not spoken out?" 
 
 " No no ! Go on ! " the man moaned in his 
 torture. 
 
 266
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 267 
 
 " I could have saved that woman all this terror 
 and suffering ; and I would not. Because I have 
 come to hate her. Because she has looked at me 
 in a way that a woman like myself never forgets 
 nor forgives. Because, by speaking out, I should 
 have put into her hands that vast fortune the 
 fortune which you came all the way to Felcote to 
 steal ! " 
 
 " Sheba ! Sheba ! " he muttered, crouching away 
 from the recollection. " The girl who the girl he 
 
 expected me to " It would not take shape in 
 
 words. 
 
 And Judith Cottrell smiled. Such a smile ! 
 At least, if she had lost for ever the soft grace 
 and sweetness of true womanhood, she had won 
 a power in its place : the power to subdue, and to 
 speak in low tones that cut into him like a lash. 
 
 " Exactly ! You fully admit that you were in 
 Felcote that night ! Now we can come to plain 
 words. Yes ; Miss Sheba St John the girl who 
 welcomed you on the staircase the precious 
 ward, or protege", of Spartan Loder ! " 
 
 She leaned forward again, her gloved hands 
 resting on the table edge. There was no fear now 
 but that he would listen to the end. 
 
 " You are taking it for granted, perhaps, that I 
 am as black as yourself, or I would not speak in 
 this way. But you are mistaken. I shall never 
 ask for your private history, nor attempt to give 
 you mine ; I shall tell you just enough for my 
 purpose. Listen carefully ! 
 
 " Till I entered that house at Felcote I was 
 merely a bitter, silent woman, quite prepared to 
 bear for life a chain and halter that only the
 
 268 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 scorned woman knows. But, once there, I sprang 
 back to life, in a sense. I found out ! This very 
 woman, this Sheba St John, was the cause of my 
 broken life. I could never learn to forgive her, 
 and so I learned to hate her, and schemed to 
 balk her a girl upon whom Fate was smiling at 
 every turn, while it persistently mocked me. And 
 now now it has come to this ! I would jeopardise 
 the remainder of my life to make her feel one 
 tithe of what I have suffered. Because, like her, 
 I happened to have a heart ! " 
 
 She paused undesignedly this time. Her 
 throat was working ; a tremor seemed to run 
 through her. Then her figure had stiffened coldly 
 again ; she went on : 
 
 " Never mind ! The inner story of it all will 
 never be told now ; and you would not grasp 
 subleties. You're a mere thing of bone and muscle ; 
 you would go to crime for crime's own sake, while 
 I might shudder at the necessity that drove me. 
 Simply this ! 
 
 " Spartan Loder, as he let me know in his 
 mutterings and as he told you plainly that night 
 left all his wealth to that man, the real Wilfred 
 Spurr, on one condition. Melodramatic, I grant, 
 but written there in black and white, that the law 
 might or might not think fit to set aside. He 
 must marry precious Sheba, to protect her from 
 a hard world ! Yes, a hard world ! he knew 
 something of it ! 
 
 " In a novel, of course, it would inevitably turn 
 out that the old man had over-reached himself in 
 one vital point the nephew would be already tied 
 to a wife. Here, as it happened, there is no
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 269 
 
 obstacle whatever in the way ; all dovetailed so 
 beautifully that one might almost credit Spartan 
 Loder with second sight ! We are handling facts, 
 however. This will states it, in clearest terms : 
 this will for which they have been hunting night 
 and day. Before ever I heard of a man named 
 Manisty I had a plan of my own that promised 
 some sort of revenge. But you came upon the 
 scene. The devil sent you. You played straight 
 into my hands, and gave me a far better one ! " 
 
 " What was it ? " he had to whisper. She seemed 
 to be waiting for it ; or else her mind had swung 
 back to the moment when that plan wrote itself 
 upon the wall in letters of flame. 
 
 " What was it ? Can you ask ? He shall never 
 wed her in this life. He shall never even know 
 of the stipulation in the will. The money shall 
 not pass into her possession through him. The 
 mystery of it all shall remain with her night and 
 day for life. And that will be the fullest revenge 
 I could ask ! " 
 
 "You mean " That first shaft of fear, 
 
 that had left his nerves raw upon the surface, was 
 dying out of him. He was fascinated by the 
 tentative something in her manner. If nothing 
 else, it had told him that there was more to come 
 some compromise by which he could save and 
 enrich himself. 
 
 " I mean this ! " She sank her measured, scorn- 
 ful voice. " You heard what I said ? I have the 
 title-deeds of the silver mine, and the will here. 
 It cost me days of watching and scheming to 
 get them, but all that is paid for now. I am 
 looking only to the future. The man whom I
 
 270 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 relied upon to help me has failed me. He is a 
 dastardly coward, and has fled from the scene in 
 very dread of the woman whose heart he himself 
 turned to a thing of stone. Let him go out of 
 my life ! And so, I have been forced to come to 
 you. Why? Because I hold a sword over you. 
 I know, alone in this world, that you shortened 
 Mr Loder's life by minutes, at least. Silence! 
 If only by a bare minute, you shortened that man's 
 term on earth ; and the law has only one name 
 for that. No ; stand back ! I am past all fear 
 of such a man as you ! " 
 
 "You lie! It's a lie!" he gasped, the damp 
 thick upon his face. " It would have happened 
 in any case. He was dying as I stood there ! " 
 
 " I knew it. But your whole fear was that he 
 might live just long enough to tell his real nephew 
 what he had told you, and so wreck in a moment 
 the scheme you had built up so elaborately. You 
 had crossed the seas you had given months of 
 thought to that final effort to recover the deeds. 
 Your face alone at this moment would condemn 
 you unheard. Deny that you laid a hand over 
 his lips. Deny that ! " 
 
 And there was silence terrible silence. 
 
 " You cannot ! " she whispered, leaning back. 
 " You were desperately afraid. Twice you searched 
 the room. But it is only now that you hear of 
 a wire-covered ventilator that opened into the 
 next apartment my own room. Just opposite 
 his bed ! I watched you. I had used that 
 ventilator before. I heard every word of his 
 or all that I wished to hear, to give me that 
 ^inspiration. And I saw \ "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 271 
 
 She had discarded for ever the dove-grey garb 
 of the nurse ; but the atmosphere and memories 
 of the calling seemed to cling about her. At 
 moments her voice was as soft as though she were 
 stooping in imagination above a helpless patient. 
 Strange, awful, it seemed to hear a woman the 
 woman whose deft fingers had so often lain across 
 a fevered brow, whose eyes had remained tireless 
 throughout so many a midnight watch giving 
 the recital in that calm, deliberate way. It was 
 like a person watching a critical surgical operation, 
 and feeling never a tremor as the knife worked 
 its slow way along the line dividing life and death. 
 
 Steeped in scheming as he was, deep as he had 
 descended in his bid for the hidden hoards of 
 Spartan Loder, his father's partner at the mine, 
 Manisty listened in stupefaction. This was a 
 phase he had never yet grappled with in his ex- 
 perience and a development he had little counted 
 upon. He was still in the dark upon many points ; 
 but he saw his chance, and was quick to grip it. 
 
 " Then then," he rattled, pointing at her, " if 
 you saw what you say, I charge you with being 
 a passive accessory to the act. You fully realised, 
 but made no attempt to prevent it, or to bring 
 the criminal to book ! " 
 
 Across the table his eyes stared defiance into 
 hers. For that one moment, and that only, she 
 lost a measure of her wonderful self-possession 
 or, maybe, sickened at the thoughts in her own 
 mind. Every day she had told herself that she 
 must strike her blow soon, or not at all. There 
 was ever that menacing fear of insanity! 
 
 " Fool ! " she breathed quiveringly. " Fool ! I
 
 272 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 did not realise the meaning of it in time, or it 
 would never have happened. I could no more 
 prevent what passed in that moment's darkness 
 than I could force my lips to cry out. I could do 
 nothing without compromising myself. You are 
 forgetting ! Till that moment, when your stealthy 
 movements stirred my quick suspicions, I was 
 thinking you the real and only Wilfred Spurr! 
 All I had wanted was to hear his revelation to 
 know for a certainty how she stood in his will. 
 The instant my suspicions of you took shape, and 
 I knew Sheba St John was to marry the heir to 
 that fortune, all my plans changed. I formed 
 another and acted upon it simultaneously. You 
 think me a witch, a wonder, no doubt ; yet there is 
 nothing wonderful in it from beginning to end. I 
 have succeeded so far simply because I cared little 
 for the consequences to myself. I played the spy 
 from time to time, and the threads came to my 
 hand in quick succession. From Spurr's own lips 
 I heard all the story of your scheme ; I had only 
 to connect it with what I knew already from Mr 
 Loder's own talk. In the same hour I obtained 
 your real name and address here through a card of 
 yours he left lying upon the table. While he 
 hunted for me the spy I had returned by 
 another door and got what I wanted ; because, you 
 see, it suddenly occurred to me what use, as a last 
 resource, I could make of a man of your stamp ! 
 There was only the fear that he might employ his 
 detectives to trap you here. But he had forgotten 
 the address ; and, again, he shrinks from the 
 publicity on her account his heart is as sensitive 
 as yours is black ! But, mind, he will work slowly
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 273 
 
 on ; his moment will come ; he is not a man to be 
 balked of his rights. Shall I tell you something? 
 He was here, in Brixton, only a day or two back. 
 I saw him passed him. On every hand there are 
 the wheels working within wheels. And so, time 
 presses! You shall leave Brixton at once, and 
 hide until the moment comes to act. And, in 
 return, I hand over to you the deeds of Spartan 
 Loder's Nevada Silver Mine the deeds of which, 
 now that Loder is dead and we alone possess his 
 secret, nothing can dispossess you ! " 
 
 " The deeds ! " He looked beyond her, whisper- 
 ing it incredulously. " She has them here ! The 
 deeds that my father wasted years of his life to 
 discover ; the deeds that I swore to him I would 
 get back, if only I lived long enough ! . . . What 
 what is it I am to do ? " 
 
 " I have told you, in plain words : to prevent 
 her marriage with Wilfred Spurr to make her 
 feel what I have felt ! " 
 
 "Marriage? Is that all? No, there's some 
 price the price of your silence ! You want money 
 raised to carry this out ? " 
 
 " Money ! Don't utter that word to me. Don't 
 deceive yourself! I propose to use you just as 
 I should set a rat-trap a trap to catch that proud, 
 smiling dove ! Yes, you stare ; you are not likely 
 to understand the agony that can grow and grow 
 in a woman's mind, till death itself is the only 
 alternative to revenge. I live for that I must 
 have it ! ... I'll ask you this : Have you ever cared 
 for a woman and lost her because another man 
 came between you and her ? " 
 
 He could not or would not answer it. That 
 flicker in the fathomless eyes held him spellbound 
 s
 
 274 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 as by the stare of a serpent poised to strike. Hate 
 so deep, so abiding, that she would keep this 
 silence and put a million of money into his hands 
 for revenge upon another woman ! 
 
 Her slow voice reached him again. 
 
 "You have not, I see! I'll tell you. It may 
 nerve you to be sure of me when you shrink from 
 your task. Once in my colourless life, not long 
 ago, I loved a man. I do not say that I would 
 have died for him I am scarcely that type of 
 woman ; but he had won my whole love. And 
 then, he drew himself away cold, sneering, love- 
 less ! Another woman had dawned upon his 
 artistic comprehension. Yes ; Sheba! Sheba St 
 John. I watched ; I found out, too late. She had 
 refused him, spurned him ; but that could not alter 
 the living fact that she had blasted my life. I did 
 not want him then ; it was the secret humiliation 
 of it that has worked my ruin. He will forget me : 
 he is a man he will marry some other woman ; he 
 can go. But she she shall know ! To-night I 
 exist only to prove that a woman's hate for another 
 woman is the one thing on earth that never dies ! " 
 
 " Stop ! I'll promise ! " He bent across to her. 
 " I understand. I'll promise what you like. Give 
 me the deeds, and you shall have your payment in 
 full. Whatever is in your mind, you can trust me." 
 
 " Trust you ? " Judith Cottrell laughed, without 
 seeming to relax a muscle of the hard, passionless 
 face. " I trust no one now save myself. No ; 
 you shall trust me ! " 
 
 " How ? What do you mean ? Speak out ! " 
 
 " I mean that these papers remain in my posses- 
 sion until I am satisfied. And, moreover, knowing 
 the man you are, I make a stipulation. No harm
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 275 
 
 is to come to her and none to this Wilfred Spurr, 
 who stands in the way of your object still. I 
 played the Delilah with him, but he was too keen 
 to be caught by that bait. He may be too keen 
 for you, unless you are careful. You may prove 
 him dead to the American authorities for your 
 own purposes ; but it shall be one more lie, and a 
 lie only. Now ! I have wasted a week already in 
 trying to see you. I shall be in London for two 
 days more, maturing my plans ; and then yes, I 
 shall dare it. I shall go down to Felcote and 
 demand my boxes demand the cheque for my 
 services there. Spurr may have gone by then ; 
 even if not he can do nothing. He can prove 
 nothing against me knows nothing as yet of 
 what the papers really contained. And he is still 
 in fear of a scandal that must bring dear Miss 
 Sheba into the witness-box ! I will have my 
 boxes, and I will have the pleasure of tearing the 
 cheque to atoms and throwing them at her feet. 
 I want to look once again into her eyes once 
 again ! Keep this card ; if there is anything you 
 must say to me before four o'clock on Wednesday 
 afternoon the time of my train down you can 
 do so by " 
 
 "Yes, yes! I see all that ; I only ask to see the 
 papers once ! " he put in, with a great effort to 
 appear calm. For so long the rustle of those docu- 
 ments had mocked his dreams danced before him 
 like a marsh light ; and to-night they were within 
 arm's reach ! 
 
 " Not once," she said decisively. " I am not 
 taking you into my confidence as a confederate. 
 To me these papers are worthless : they simply 
 represent a chance of money and money will not
 
 276 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 buy back a woman's heart and happiness. To 
 you, as I understand it, they may mean a dozen 
 fortunes in one. So he said, and so your face 
 shows! And so you can afford to wait a little 
 longer. Wait and watch in the background, as I 
 have done for months. Let them drift together 
 those two ! There is no need of the will to bring 
 that about ; the love is there, waiting to burst into 
 flame unless I make the mistake of my life. She 
 was Cinderella waiting for her Prince, although 
 she did not realise it. Wait ! Wait until the love 
 has absorbed her, as mine did. It may not be 
 long ! She listens already for the ring of his voice, 
 the sound of his step ! I have seen it all I know 
 the signs. Wait ! He is to hurry back West, sell 
 his farms, and ' settle down.' What does that 
 mean ? To hurry back and marry her ! Let him 
 go, all in ignorance of the will and the wealth. 
 And then " 
 
 " Then " Manisty repeated, as sunkenly as 
 
 if he were afraid of his own voice, even now. 
 
 "This, if nothing spoils my last hope. Once 
 again once again you shall play your part of 
 Wilfred Spurr! and this time there must be no 
 hitch, no failure ! . . . Are you so dull you ? You 
 shall intercept his letters home to Felcote, write in 
 his name to say that you have arrived back at 
 Liverpool, personate him, make sure of your ground 
 and your opportunity, say that your plans have 
 altered, grow colder and more brutal each time 
 that you meet her, hint at a woman in Toronto, 
 and break that proud heart, as mine was broken ! 
 Then, and not before, these papers are yours, for 
 ever!"
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 277 
 
 The stipulated two days were gone. 
 
 It was Wednesday, and nearly eight o'clock. 
 The stars, those " forget-me-nots of the angels," 
 were just peering down through a sky like blue- 
 black velvet, when the woman who had been 
 known as Sister Judith looked out from a window 
 of a train panting importantly into Felcote station. 
 She still wore the closely-meshed veil, but from 
 behind it her rapid glance swept the platform. It 
 seemed clear of anything but uniformed figures. 
 She stepped quietly out, her head bowed, and 
 dropped her ticket at the collector's feet. When 
 he straightened up, and looked, she was merely a 
 nebulous figure moving swiftly down the road 
 winding to the Manor House and the sea. 
 
 She drew in a half-quivering breath as the never- 
 to-be-forgotten ocean and pinewood air fanned 
 past her nostrils ; but that was all. It might 
 seem exceptionally dark, and appallingly still, 
 after the boom and glare of London streets ; but 
 her supreme, slowly acquired contempt for feminine 
 weaknesses had to-night attained its highest 
 possible point. She moved along, cold, scornful, 
 merciless as Cleopatra of Egypt may have moved 
 when Mark Antony turned from her proffered love. 
 Only once she had to turn aside, hold her breath, 
 and recollect that she had been different a thing 
 palpitating with passion and sick with the selfish- 
 ness of man. 
 
 There was the whiz of rubber wheels and pant 
 of petrol cylinders ; two lamps stared and blazed 
 like a wolfs eyes in the gloom behind her. She 
 stood back still against the hedge. It was a 
 Panhard car, gone by like a flash ; but she had 
 time to see the white, handsome, cynical face of
 
 278 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 the man lying back with folded arms in the 
 tonneau. It was her last glimpse on earth of 
 Doctor Gilbert Lancing. 
 
 He was back here, then perhaps had rushed 
 back at night for a few feverish minutes to see his 
 substitute, and was now careering back to Barrow- 
 dene station. It mattered nothing; he was an 
 intangible figure in her mind to-night. It showed 
 her her own strength the fact that she could let 
 him vanish by without cry or thrill the fact that 
 she could obliterate the memory of his kisses as 
 easily as he had done hers. The sound died, and 
 she went on. 
 
 Why had she deliberately come back into the 
 danger zone? What was it she really had set 
 herself to do? She could not have answered. 
 Something, as she said, was drawing her on to 
 look once more into the eyes of that other woman 
 that was all. 
 
 The road, of course, swept directly past the 
 house gates. Mechanical force of habit and in- 
 separable tendency to stealth suggested the short 
 cut across the grounds that would bring her out 
 to the gravel slope below the hall door. After 
 the long spell of warm rain that path would be 
 a mere sodden sponge beneath the feet ; but she 
 gave no thought to that life for her was no longer 
 composed of consecutive trifles. She turned through 
 the wicket. She was very near now very near 
 now! If the house atmosphere had a scent of its 
 own her nostrils could recognise it again now. 
 
 She could see the gabled roof rising hazily 
 against the night. Spite of herself, there was a 
 dull quickening of her pulse she went a little 
 faster. It was in her now to dare and achieve a
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 279 
 
 great unrehearsed denouement. She saw herself 
 standing in the drawing-room, ringed by a dumb 
 wonder. She would calmly dare them all, sneer 
 smilingly, challenge them to put down concrete 
 proofs of her share in the abstraction of Spartan 
 Loder's documents. Documents buried under a 
 stone slab in the maze pavilion directions secreted 
 behind a clock in the library who in the outside 
 world would believe the story for a moment ! 
 Nevertheless, the world should hear of it all. 
 
 She would demand to stand face to face with 
 Sheba St John. Her boxes should be carried out 
 and taken to the station by the servants. The 
 cheque should be written the cheque for her 
 months of hired service to the man who now lay 
 in Felcote cemetery. One minute later, before 
 them all, the fragments of it should be lying at 
 Sheba's feet. Then she would sweep out without a 
 word. Shecould afford to keep on hermaskof silence 
 to-night. To-night was only the beginning of an 
 end. As she had planned it in her mind, the curtain 
 could not fail to fall upon the greatest of all human 
 tragedies the tragedy of a woman's broken heart. 
 
 The deadly joy of it of the last intervening 
 moment was humming through her brain as 
 wind hums through stretched wires. She had 
 come to the path end ; she had now only to cross 
 the shrubbery. Yet she paused. 
 
 There was an uncertain sound behind as if 
 someone were moving up quickly on tiptoe. Yes 
 yes ! She heard the squeak of boot leather in 
 sodden grass. All the nerve control acquired in 
 a lifetime oozed out in one instant. Realising 
 nothing definite, she had to swerve convulsively 
 round like a beast at bay. A wild cry, half anger,
 
 280 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 choked up in her throat. A woman, after all, can 
 be only a woman ! 
 
 It never sounded. It was throttled back by a 
 sweat-damp, nervous hand that suddenly clamped 
 her throat just above the breast. She had no time 
 to speak. Through the crimson fog of that suffoca- 
 tion her eyes focussed a man's face, evil, haggard, 
 sickly. It was the man with whom she had made 
 her calm compact in a London room. " Wait ! " 
 she had said, in her diabolical majesty. And he 
 had waited until now. 
 
 His straining whisper flicked foam into her face. 
 He was shaking her rigid figure to and fro in his 
 culminating fear and exultation. He had put out 
 all his brute strength. His hands were swelling 
 with the blood pumped up by that great issue at 
 stake. A million ! Men had sold their souls for a 
 thousandth part of it . The grip of gold ! 
 
 " Give them up give them up ! " he moaned, 
 his clutch tightening. " They're mine hand them 
 over ! Those deeds, or " 
 
 She struggled. Life seemed ineffably sweet and 
 wonderful in that moment, little as she would have 
 believed it. She tore at the hot, great hand to 
 gain her voice for one instant to tell him some- 
 thing ! She had all but succeeded ; she thrust her 
 fingers into his eyes ; she was wresting back her 
 head for the gasping cry. 
 
 With a whine of agony he swung her away at 
 arm's length. She knew something heavier than 
 flesh and bone was descending she put up her 
 gloved hands to ward it off. Too late. Heaven 
 and earth seemed to come together and flatten as 
 with the crash of two great cymbals. And she lay 
 between mute still.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 " MiSS ST JOHN ! Sheba ! " 
 
 Three quiet words ; but with a suppressed regret, 
 a note of pain and finality, which had not seemed 
 to vibrate in that deep voice before. 
 
 "Sheba!" 
 
 It was just as the dusk came settling down. 
 She had been sitting at the piano there, but only 
 to strike a few hushed chords and then to withdraw 
 her hands as if desecration had been done. All 
 seemed strange all life seemed to be in a state of 
 listening suspension. Why? Why? 
 
 She had moved across to the glass doors, trying 
 to watch with interest that marvellous glow of lilac 
 and lemon over Felcote listening to that noise as 
 of muffled, spasmodic drum-beats from the heavy 
 sea. But the clear, pansy-soft eyes saw nothing 
 an infinite sadness and longing dimmed them ; and 
 her ears had been set for the sound of her name. 
 She had known by woman's intuition that sooner 
 or later he would come to her in that way ; yet, 
 now that the moment was here, something in the 
 depths of his voice checked the reply she had pre- 
 pared so carefully. Instead, she half turned. Even 
 if he did not understand, his man's quick eyes must 
 see the working of her throat, as lump after lump 
 rose there. Now her womanliness forced her to 
 play a part. There was something that he ought to 
 know, but which her own lips could never tell him. 
 281
 
 282 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Ought that thrilling cry from Spartan Loder's 
 lips to be buried with Spartan Loder as something 
 that had never been uttered ? 
 
 The days were following each other in swift 
 succession and formed a long chain now ; but not 
 as yet, try as she might, could she seem to grope 
 entirely free of the dreamlike haze surrounding 
 everything, and realise that life was life. That 
 self-same hush of uncertainty still overhung the 
 house. That burning question in Felcote as to 
 what part Wilfred Spurr would play in the future, 
 and as to the location of Spartan Loder's mys- 
 terious hoard, was still swinging in the scales. 
 
 For the greater part of that last week Spurr had 
 been in London, but apparently nothing had re- 
 sulted from the journey. And now at dusk, after 
 remaining in his room for hours at a stretch, he 
 had chosen his moment to come quietly down the 
 stairs. Of a sudden his shadow had wavered past 
 her. Did it did it mean good-bye? She had 
 grasped in some vague way that he was returning 
 to Canada, for a time, at anyrate solely in order 
 that, she told herself, he could leave her in un- 
 challenged possession of the Manor House. It 
 could only be that ! 
 
 " Miss St John ! " He bent a little closer, as if 
 to say that she must answer him. " In what way 
 have I come short of your expectations? Why 
 have you set yourself to avoid meeting me for the 
 past day or two ? You have done that ! I know 
 it ; and I think you know it. If I have failed in 
 much that I hoped to do for you before I left, I 
 have deserved nothing so cruel as your forced 
 ^ilence. Nothing ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 283 
 
 Still she stood statue-like. He was drawing 
 away. She heard the slight movement. He saw 
 her set lips quiver anyhow, as she felt out for the 
 deck-chair placed there. The man was all re- 
 sponsive fibres beneath an armour of muscle. In 
 an instant he was stooping over her, his hand 
 closed upon her shoulder, his low voice reaching 
 her woman's heart. 
 
 " A barrier ? Break it down ! Sheba ! Have 
 they stabbed you into indifference ? Don't you 
 think I know? Have they reminded you that, in 
 your position here, frigid reserve is the right robe 
 to wear while I am here, now that the worst of the 
 situation is over ? God, this world ! Well I know 
 how the many tongues have been at work from the 
 outset and what a sensitive heart beats here under 
 my hands ! There, you shall not have to endure 
 that added strain much longer. I simply came to 
 speak in my own defence. As a man, I have tried 
 my utmost to stand between a woman and the 
 weight of fear that was like to crush her ! " 
 
 " Yes yes ! " She found the word surging wildly 
 in her throat, but still her face was a sealed book 
 to him. The moment had come when she dared 
 not Jook back into those thoughtful, fearless eyes 
 and he had divined why ! Only yesterday it 
 had reached her ears that question of Carlotta 
 Barrington's that had buzzed around Felcote : 
 " Strange, is it not, if Miss St John hopes to keep 
 house for the nephew as she kept it for the uncle ? " 
 No ; he did not know ! If he had done he could 
 not have withdrawn his hand in that sharp way. 
 She made her supreme effort. The man had 
 spoken ; he had a right to a reply.
 
 284 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 "Yes! " she repeated, with difficulty. " I know ; 
 I have seen and appreciated far more than you 
 think. I I can never hope to repay you ; you 
 do not wish it. You you have sent to book your 
 passage ? " 
 
 " Not yet." He stood with arms crossed. She 
 knew that his jaws were firmly set but she must 
 not appear to know ! " That is only a detail. You 
 and I need not speak of that. I, at anyrate, have 
 something far deeper to face." 
 
 " What is that? " she whispered. 
 
 "What is it? You know! You know that all 
 my search has ended in ghastly failure. I have 
 faced it ; I am going to realise once for all that 
 my uncle has taken his secret with him, because 
 nothing conceivably can be done now to prove 
 otherwise. I shall leave the forlorn hope the 
 invisible thread in Mr Crewe's hands. I may be 
 gone some few weeks even months." 
 
 "Months!" she said, half to herself. He had 
 paused. 
 
 "Months! For that time yes, for that time, 
 at least, I have told myself that you will be able 
 to remain here ; because, but for you and Mrs 
 Saxon, I fear the place would go to pieces. And, 
 again," he went on quickly, as the unconscious 
 tremor ran through her, " it must never be forgotten 
 that, in the possible event of Mr Loder's dying 
 wishes becoming known, Miss St John might be 
 found to have a considerable interest in them. 
 Speaking for myself alone, I cannot believe other- 
 wise." 
 
 He stooped again, trying to force a smile, as he 
 ^looked into her averted face. But no word came ;
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 285 
 
 and that lip of hers quivered away in a manner to 
 pain and puzzle any man. She had purposely 
 avoided him. Was there anything that he was 
 not to know? If so, Wilfred Spurr was not the 
 man to press his right. 
 
 " No answer to-night, then ! " he said cheerfully, 
 drawing away. " What did I expect ? You may 
 have been forming arrangements of your own. I 
 spoke of it because I am informed emphatically 
 by Mrs Saxon that such is the only arrangement 
 possible during my absence." 
 
 "You spoke of it for that reason only?" she 
 asked quickly. And he bit his lip, and whitened 
 a little. 
 
 " No ; but because it was also my own deepest 
 wish that you should remain here in that position 
 queen of the household that I leave behind ! I 
 did not know how to express it. Sheba, you knew ! " 
 
 An eloquent silence. Tears unbidden tears 
 were beginning to brim upon her eyelashes. There 
 was a vague sense of " farewell " and finality breath- 
 ing about her. Criminal almost it seemed, to keep 
 her silence knowing that one breath at this 
 moment from her lips might keep him and change 
 all his life plans in a flash. And yet no, no ; he 
 must never know in life! A minute more, and 
 she was speaking as quietly as himself. He was 
 the real master here and she his housekeeper for 
 a few weeks. That was all ! 
 
 "If you still wish it to be yes ! " She took out 
 a tiny notebook and a pencil the business-like 
 mockery of it, when her heart was beating with a 
 throb plain to his eyes even in the dusk ! " You 
 have concluded all arrangements here, then ? "
 
 286 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " All ? " He had to laugh, although his voice 
 was unsteady. " Well, in truth, I have made none. 
 Everything shall stand as it stood as it stood be- 
 fore my sinister advent." 
 
 " Don't! don't! " came, with a little gasping sob. 
 And he was protectively grave at once. 
 
 " I won't ! Forgive that ! Let us look at it 
 together, before I go. There being no will, so far 
 as we can ascertain, the money and property, 
 whatever and wherever it may be, reverts formally 
 to the next-of-kin ; and " 
 
 " To you ! " she put in pantingly. " To you, in 
 any case ! To you ! " 
 
 "Ah, but wait, little one!" He was eager in 
 turn ; he did not know what he had said. " I 
 shall need to prove that I am that man. Heaven 
 alone knows what that might mean before the 
 courts are satisfied. This is England ; and I am 
 technically domiciled in Canada. So far as I am 
 aware, not a single document exists abroad there 
 to show that Mr Loder was my mother's brother. 
 I may be wronging her, but I fancy I fear that 
 she had destroyed everything that could remind 
 her of that brother's existence on the same earth. 
 The proof might be a work of a lifetime, and 
 would assuredly cost more money than I possess 
 at present. There might even be some surviving 
 relation of whom we do not dream. Now " he 
 drew in his breath " if a will had come to hand 
 it would flood the whole darkness with light. 
 Merely supposing that my name appeared as heir 
 or co-heir : Mr Crewe tells me that I could take 
 over the property as a matter of course. As it is 
 I can simply lodge a formal claim, and leave
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 287 
 
 myself to be slowly absorbed by the Crown lawyers. 
 No no, I shall let it go ! Let it go ! " he repeated, 
 as her gasp came again. "If only there were a 
 signed paper all would be different ! There is not 
 one! Even if papers have been stolen, as we 
 believe, a will could hardly have been the thieves' 
 magnet ; it could be of no earthly use to anyone 
 but the persons named in it. Perhaps, indeed, 
 Uncle Loder meant to tell me the facts by word 
 of mouth before he died, but now " 
 
 It broke off. The still, listening girl had swayed 
 up suddenly, and faced him. Out of a death- 
 white face her eyes shone with a light he had 
 never seen in them yet. Her voice came with 
 a steady, level calmness that he was never to 
 forget. 
 
 " Hush ! I am going to speak. I respect you ; 
 I owe you the truth, as a woman you respect." 
 The slightest pause. She put out her hand and 
 touched his arm. " Think what you will of me 
 for keeping it back until now, because I can never 
 explain. There is a will a will that explains 
 all. And I knew it ! " 
 
 "You!" He stood quite still, looking down 
 into the windows of her woman's soul. " You ! " 
 he whispered again. "You would never lie to me. 
 Where, and what, is it?" And her hand went 
 slowly back. 
 
 " I cannot tell you. But it is written it exists 
 it would tell all ! " 
 
 "Miss St John ! " He had looked all around the 
 shadowy great room. A dulness had crept into 
 his warm voice. He was drawing back from the 
 mixed thrill of that partial revelation. " You knew
 
 288 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 this and kept such a silence! What does it 
 mean ? " He reached out and grasped her wrist. 
 " No ; I cannot believe it. One night, in this very 
 room, you assured me in the same voice that you 
 had no knowledge of such a paper. And now " 
 
 She drew free drew up her slight figure as if 
 struck. " God help me ! " he heard her whisper. 
 Then she had faced him again. There was a 
 dilation of her eyes, a quick rise and fall of her 
 breast, that warned him. 
 
 "And I had not! You dare to doubt me? I 
 gave you the truth, as far as I knew it then. I 
 knew nothing of it until until yesterday. You 
 shall trust me in that or you may go, disbelieving 
 me utterly. If I have kept a shameful silence 
 these two days, you must not ask me why and 
 you must never ask me to say another word 
 upon it ! " 
 
 A minute more ticked by before the man found 
 himself able to sound his voice. 
 
 " Miss St John, forgive me ! Trust you ? What 
 a word to-night! Ay, with my life itself! No ; I 
 will ask no more except this one thing. You 
 heard of this how from whom ? You can 
 answer that." 
 
 " From Mrs Saxon." She had drawn quite 
 back into the shadow of the window draperies, 
 and stood as in shame, her face hidden, her hands 
 strained together. " I should have told you at 
 once, I know, but I could not. I am a woman ! " 
 
 Yes ! And Spurr came slowly forward to grip 
 the clasped hands in spite of her, his voice plead- 
 ingly passionate. 
 
 "What! You fear my thoughts my being a
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 289 
 
 man! Then you do not know me in the least. 
 Such a silence as that was cruelty ! a slight upon 
 me! Shall I speak? I understand all! In that 
 will he has left his money to you. And you feared 
 to let me know feared that I might turn against 
 you as an adventuress here! . . . Miss St John 
 Sheba it will not be the mere loss of money that 
 sends me away a miserable man. It will be the 
 thought that I had failed so utterly to make my- 
 self understood. Oh, God, if you had never told 
 me that ! " 
 
 His strong figure shook. For a moment they 
 stood together in the faded light, his drawn face 
 drooped almost to hers. His pain was real, and 
 she knew it. There was something that she could 
 have said, but it must not come from her lips yet 
 not yet. He had given her no right yet. 
 
 " Speak ! " he broke out huskily, almost fiercely. 
 "I care nothing. Whatever it is, let me know 
 let me go in peace. I honour you in any case ; I 
 know you to be the woman you are! Sheba, 
 speak speak now ! " 
 
 She unwound his tenacious hands, moved across 
 steadily to the fireplace, rang the housekeeper's 
 bell, and stood waiting perfectly tranquil, as it 
 looked. What was to happen? Wilfred Spurr 
 stood watching her in a spell of wonder. And 
 then he knew that the door was open. Mrs 
 Saxon was peering round. 
 
 " Why, Miss Sheba ! I hardly saw you. You 
 want the lights ? " 
 
 "Not yet! . . . Mrs Saxon, I ought to have 
 asked you yesterday if if Mr Carnforth would 
 know anything of the terms in that will of which 
 T
 
 290 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 you spoke. The rector was named as one of the 
 executors, you thought ? " 
 
 " Let me think ! " breathed the other woman. 
 " No no I fancy he was not to know a syllable 
 of what it said until it was wanted at death. 
 Besides, dearie, he would never have opened his 
 lips to anyone, you may be sure! If he has done, 
 he's not worthy to stand in that pulpit every 
 Sunday ! " 
 
 " No no ! " came across, without a tremor. " It 
 was not that I meant. And Doctor Lancing, the 
 
 other executor " 
 
 A light flashed through Wilfred Spurr's mind. 
 Heavens, yes ! He recalled those sneering words 
 of Gilbert Lancing's on a never-forgotten day that 
 seemed ages away. A will ! Had it any connec- 
 tion with the revelation of this moment? But 
 there was no time to hold his head and think 
 for himself. Mrs Saxon had whispered back with 
 withering emphasis : 
 
 " Ah, that's altogether different ! we'll let that 
 pass ! Dearie, as I stand here, I feel utterly cer- 
 tain that Mr Loder told them nothing save that 
 he had written their names as gentlemen who had 
 known him in life. Another thing, dear haven't 
 you heard ? Felcote is hardly likely to hear of it 
 through him now. Sophie brought the news to- 
 night from his maid. He is off to Monaco for 
 three months came back for his cheque-book 
 this evening. The Barringtons are there ; perhaps 
 that explains it ; Carlotta might come back with 
 another name ! " Then she seemed to realise 
 something deeper breathing in the room's atmos- 
 phere. She closed the door and stole uncertainly
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 291 
 
 forward. "Why, dearie? Why do you look at 
 me like that? You're not afraid of it reaching 
 Mr Spurr's ears before you could make up your 
 mind to " 
 
 " Hush ! Mr Spurr is here in this room ! " 
 
 And a smothered cry escaped Mrs Saxon. She 
 had not seen that man's motionless figure in the 
 deepening obscurity. She turned tremblingly. 
 
 "God forgive me! Miss Sheba Mr Spurr I 
 never dreamed that " 
 
 " We know that," he put in very quietly. " It 
 cannot matter now. No ; I am not angry only 
 that I feel like a man slowly climbing out of a 
 pit of darkness. Let Miss St John speak. 
 Listen ! " 
 
 And that low, level voice went through the 
 silence, as he craned forward in a mental agony 
 of suspense. 
 
 " You hear? I want you, I bid you, to tell Mr 
 Spurr just what you told me yesterday morning. 
 There is no other way. He does not understand 
 silence would prefer to know all. Forget me ! 
 It is his human right to know. Yes ; the will ! " 
 
 " And why," he added, shakily, " You have not 
 spoken of it to me or to anyone else until now, 
 knowing it to have been the pivot on which, per- 
 haps, my whole life to come might turn ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 WHOLE minutes, it seemed, had passed before 
 Mrs Saxon could trust herself to obey. Through 
 her hushed tones trembled a suggestion of defiance 
 and desperation. 
 
 "You will remember, sir, throughout that life 
 that you forced my lips. Why have I not spoken 
 of it until now ? Because, Mr Spurr, when I have 
 once taken an oath before heaven I respect it." 
 
 " An oath ? " 
 
 "Ay! I call it that; although, being a woman, 
 I may have given it the wrong name. I could 
 not speak because, till death released me, I have 
 lived under a seal of silence that all the money in 
 the world should not make me break ; and be- 
 cause, when that seal was taken away, I found my- 
 self placed in such a position that But it is 
 
 too late to talk of that now. You are a man, sir 
 and Miss Sheba is a woman ! I could have told 
 you what I knew. It has been burning on my 
 lips from hour to hour ; but a woman's heart was 
 bound up with it. There was something some- 
 thing that I was praying Almighty would not 
 come as a blow if I held it back until the last 
 moment ! " 
 
 " Go on go on ! " Spurr said, his hands strain- 
 ing. His feet still seemed slipping on the brink 
 of that pit of darkness. 
 
 " No no ! " The weak little moan came from 
 
 292
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 293 
 
 Sheba's throat. Her great effort was dying. As 
 if she could bear no more, she was moving across 
 toward the door. Just in time, as by some in- 
 tuition, Spurr realised and sprang. She found 
 her cold fingers drawn within his, and held tightly, 
 He did not divine the truth not yet! Another 
 minute, and he might be loathing her, turning 
 from her, as the creature who stood between him 
 and his inheritance a living halter about his neck 
 for ever ! 
 
 " Go on ! " he repeated, almost sternly. " I de- 
 mand to know, whatever it is. You have said so 
 much that you must say all. Let us face it now ! " 
 
 " You shall, sir." Mrs Saxon took a step, de- 
 termined as himself, her eyes piercing the gloom. 
 " But I'm going to say first of all, as I may never 
 have the chance again, that many a gentleman 
 living to-night would be happy to hear what you 
 must hear. God bless us all ! " the sob was 
 bound to come. " It has haunted me many a day 
 many a long night to think that the man 
 named in that will might turn out to be a villain 
 as they say so many missing nephews are ! Yes, 
 sir, there is a will ; and I witnessed it I and 
 Clarkson ! " 
 
 " Clarkson ? " 
 
 " Clarkson ! the footman who left us some 
 months ago, leaving me all the weight of the 
 secret to bear alone." 
 
 " You know his whereabouts now ? " Spurr 
 whispered, still forcing his great calm, as with 
 premonition. All the while those cold fingers 
 were struggling convulsively to escape him, and 
 in vain.
 
 294 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 " I hold his promise to come forward if ever 
 wanted ; and I trust him. Here it is, sir ! One 
 night, Mr Loder, always so strange, rang the 
 library bell. I found him sitting there, very grey 
 and grim. ' Bring Clarkson,' he said. He locked 
 the door, put up the black screen around the desk, 
 looked at us both a long time, and read out a long 
 paper. I think I think he had seen some vision 
 in his sleep, and realised that he must go the way 
 all men before him had gone. All that the paper 
 said, no woman could hope to remember. And I 
 was numbed from head to foot by his manner ; I 
 doubt if I should recognise my own signature there 
 to-day. But we signed it as he commanded, and 
 we stepped back out of the screen only when we 
 had repeated some words. It was a promise, 
 under heaven, never to breath a syllable of it 
 until after he should be dead and out of sight." 
 
 "You witnessed his signature. That was 
 enough. What what made him read out the 
 paper's contents in that way?" 
 
 " I could never tell, sir unless some second 
 sight gave him a glimpse of this moment. You 
 must take my word for all of it, Mr Spurr ! If you 
 held me to ransom, I could never tell what became 
 of the paper had never another sight of it I " 
 
 " Go on ! There was money ? " Spurr said. 
 The outline of his sombre face was all but hidden 
 now. Sheba's slight figure had become as still as 
 in a trance. 
 
 " Money ? " Mrs Saxon reached out her hands 
 to him. " I can only tell you what I heard from 
 his own lips. He may have lost his hold on 
 sanity for a moment, but I have not. Money?
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 295 
 
 There seemed no end to it ! If it's all true, sir, you 
 stand there one of the richest men in England 
 to-night ! There were thousands and thousands 
 in Government stocks, money banked abroad, 
 this freehold property, and and some great silver 
 mine out West, at the bottom of which, as far as 
 Clarkson and I could make out, he had buried 
 a dozen fortunes in one. I don't attempt to follow 
 the figures I simply say, Mr Spurr, that every 
 stick and stone was left to you, his nephew . . . 
 I will say it, Miss Sheba I must ! . . . left to 
 you, on the one solemn condition that you took to 
 wife the precious one you are holding now his 
 own treasure Miss Sheba ! " 
 
 " Sheba ! " That one hollow, gasping word, that 
 seemed wrung out from his very soul ; and no more. 
 
 " Ay ! " Her indignant voice was strangled by 
 sobs. In that moment she seemed to forget all 
 save that she was a woman herself all save the 
 shame and horror of another woman sacrificed on 
 the altar of Spartan Loder's great irony. She had 
 plucked his rigid hands away she had drawn 
 Sheba close to her own breast. She turned upon 
 him in the darkness, in hushed challenge. 
 
 " And you could ask why I did not come and 
 repeat such words calmly to your face the moment 
 you set foot here ! No ! Right or wrong, unless 
 she had bidden me, I would have kept the silence 
 until my own last hour. Dared I speak of it, as 
 a woman, until I could bring myself to tell Miss 
 Sheba herself what a sword had hung over her ! 
 Now you know why she could not answer you, and 
 all that it has meant for both of us ! What would 
 the world out there say? Ay, you know! It
 
 296 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 would shout as in one voice that she had played 
 her cards here as only a great actress could play 
 them. Ay, you see now ! It meant that in the 
 same breath she must appear to say : ' I have 
 you in my power. Either you marry me, or 
 give up the money ! ' Could any woman say it ? 
 Pardon me to-night, sir, but but I had been 
 thinking you one of the rare gentlemen who can 
 understand without being told ! " 
 
 And then the long, strange spell of silence 
 moments lost from their lives. They could not 
 see his face now ; they were not even to know 
 whether he was passing through the sweat and 
 agony of a struggle an ordeal such as few men 
 are called upon to face : or whether some other 
 woman's heart might not be balancing in the 
 scales against his honour. They could only hear 
 a sound as if knot after knot were forming in his 
 throat and stifling the words that strove to pass. 
 And then at last, as Mrs Saxon went to move, his 
 voice reached them subdued, different. 
 
 "Stand still not yet! We know. And now 
 what must be done ? Mrs Saxon ! " 
 
 " Done ? I suppose I presume, sir," she 
 answered, in a cool, steadied voice, "you must 
 bear the blow, make up your mind at once to lose 
 the money, and let it go to the deserving poor 
 his alternative ! Only only this, sir ! I scarcely 
 think I was quite the one to be asked to answer 
 that question ! " 
 
 And he drew in that long, deep breath. His 
 strong, still figure seemed to quiver. 
 
 " No ; you are right," he whispered. " It is not 
 for you to decide nor for me ! "
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 297 
 
 He turned away, and waited. That moment ! 
 that moment in which the muffled drums of Fate 
 seemed beating loudly coming nearer nearer ! 
 He had heard no rustle, no whispering, no closing 
 of a door ; yet it seemed to him that he was quite 
 alone now. To cry out to call her back to ask 
 her to believe that love's light had already flooded 
 his lonely horizon before money was mentioned 
 no, he could not. Her silence was enough. She 
 had been thrust upon him was given to him as a 
 bridal gift ! She must turn from him in the cold 
 dignity of a woman who could never give unasked. 
 It was a moment too late a moment too late to 
 speak ! 
 
 He stood ; stood like one awaiting the sentence 
 of a judge across a hushed court the marching of 
 many feet the burst of light in some shadowy 
 old cathedral. Waiting only for some incredible 
 spell around him to break ! 
 
 And then then something happened that 
 seemed to deepen it all. His arm was touched. 
 He took the hand from his eyes. There there 
 beside him, her pale face dim in that light, her 
 eyes filmed and far away, stood the one dear 
 figure. It did not seem real not yet. He found 
 himself speaking in a low, awed tone, as if fearing 
 to disturb the workings of a divine process. 
 
 "You could not speak no! I honour you the 
 more for that silence." 
 
 No answer. He found her hands, and held 
 them, and went on softly : 
 
 " But my voice is not sealed. I will dare to ask 
 you the question once now! . . . Could you 
 realise ? Think ! not of his money, not of
 
 298 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 Wilfred Spurr, but of your own heart and its 
 secret. Will it could it ever make me the happy 
 man I have longed to be, almost from that moment 
 when I first knew that Sheba lived ? " 
 
 No answer. Not yet not yet ! Only the faint 
 echo of a sob in her throat, as his face drooped to hers. 
 
 " Sheba ! " He spoke the word as if its sound 
 were almost sacred for him. "Sheba, hear me! 
 The will is forgotten is not between us at this 
 moment. I have always believed this : there is 
 one true mate for every man in our world ; and 
 thrice blessed the man who finds that mate before 
 the tale of his lonely life is told ! Shall that happi- 
 ness be mine ? I would not have dared to speak 
 not yet, at least ; but Fate has called to you for me, 
 through my dead uncle's last wish. That, maybe, 
 was all he waited to tell me ! Yes ; I could lose 
 the money, with scarcely a pang of regret ; but, 
 while God gives me breath to say it, I won't lose 
 my hope of you ! If you cannot bring yourself to 
 answer here and now, at least let me go with that 
 living hope . . . Sheba beloved ! " 
 
 And yes, she was a woman, as she had said, 
 with a woman's full heart. For a moment longer 
 she stood, half turned from him, her eyes closed, 
 fighting the last bit of her fight. And then then 
 her face was slowly turned up to him. She was 
 caught and locked within the strong arms that had 
 waited and hungered so long. 
 
 No need to speak ; silence was more eloquent 
 than all. She had found her rock of refuge in the 
 dark hour ; her heart had gone out to its mate ; 
 old Spartan Loder's dying desire was more than 
 fulfilled.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 299 
 
 " My own Sheba ! To be my own for ever and 
 ever ! " Spurr's whisper came through the gloom, 
 as his hand smoothed back the wave of brown 
 hair from the pale forehead, and his lips reverently 
 touched the closed eyelids. " My life's sweet 
 work, to guard the love that came to me to-night ! 
 My Sheba my wife ! Now now let the world 
 say what it will. And let me answer at the altar 
 in Felcote church ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THAT same evening ; but past nine o'clock now. 
 
 There were vague stirrings and movements in 
 the big house, as if it were coming back to life 
 after a long period of torpor. Wilfred Spurr was 
 writing a sheaf of letters and telegrams. A visibly 
 new man, with a fresh and splendid impetus to 
 his future career, he had had a long, whispered 
 consultation with the housekeeper in her own 
 room. He unfolded a wonderful prospect. Mrs 
 Saxon had cried a little, laughed a little, wrung 
 his proffered hand, and now was panting up the 
 staircase to push open the door of Sheba's room. 
 
 "Joy joy! It's like new life there's music 
 ringing everywhere in my ears ! Bless you both ! 
 let me be first to say it's the proudest hour ever 
 known in this house ! Oh, to speak out, after all 
 that terrible blank of silence, and the watching to see 
 what Mr Spurr might be thinking of you ! What 
 will all Felcote say now ? and the Barrington 
 girls ! Oh, to see their faces, if they knew ! The 
 place will be in a fever. Dearie, no more of those 
 wistful looks now ! He's a dear fellow although, 
 of course, you can hardly expect to find it out just 
 yet ! " 
 
 " Is is he downstairs now ? " Sheba asked, very 
 quietly. She had some sort of proud right over 
 his movements now she had been taken to the 
 2hrns that would shelter her for life ! She had been 
 
 300
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 301 
 
 standing by her open window, looking steadfastly 
 out across the park to Barrowdene lights. 
 
 " No ; he has gone riding across to Barrowdene 
 
 with his telegrams one to the lawyer, one to 
 
 America, and one to the London police. Felcote 
 
 office closed at eight, you know. That will must 
 
 and shall be found, he says. You see it all, dearie ? 
 
 He means to look at it with his own eyes, even if 
 
 the house has to come down brick by brick. He'll 
 
 never rest now, even if the police have to search 
 
 every house in Brixton ! I think I know he 
 
 means the world to see that will, so that no one 
 
 shall be able to say we had concocted the romantic 
 
 story to trap him ! My dear, he means you to be 
 
 a great lady, and keep open house ; everything is 
 
 to be changed, to blot out memories. I care 
 
 nothing now even if the whole mystery of that 
 
 night is never to lift! You're trembling still, 
 
 dearie and no wonder. He wrung my hand as 
 
 if he would crush it ; men never realise their own 
 
 strength. And and I keep thinking about Sister 
 
 Judith. Not a sign from her and her boxes still 
 
 lying up in that room ! I spoke to him of it, and 
 
 the strangest look came into his eyes. He says 
 
 the boxes are not to be touched on any account. 
 
 Not that there is a trace of any papers in them ; 
 
 I have searched them thoroughly. If she took 
 
 anything incriminating, as he still believes, it was 
 
 in that sealskin bag. An uncanny woman, although 
 
 something Oh, I forgot ! Dearie, you'll dress 
 
 to-night to fit the occasion. He says I am to be sure 
 and lay a nice supper in the dining-room, however 
 late it may be, and another specially for the servants. 
 It's evident we have a man to deal with ; he is not
 
 302 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 going to hide his happiness under any bushel ! 
 Now, take my advice and lie down, and forget 
 everything for half-an-hour. All will seem so 
 calm and different in the morning ! " 
 
 " I could not," Sheba said in the same quiet 
 voice. " I remember now I came up for a 
 wrapper. I was going to walk up and down the 
 drive for a while. Chill ? No ; the air is warm 
 and beautiful after the rain. It will do me more 
 good than anything else. Please J " 
 
 And Mrs Saxon's arm dropped. 
 
 " As you will, Miss Sheba ! But but I wouldn't 
 go too far from the house while he is away even 
 now ! " 
 
 Sheba moved slowly down and across the 
 drawing-room, stepped on to the balcony, and 
 drew in a long, quivering draught of the sweet 
 night air that somehow seemed to waft from a 
 new world. Her oval face looking out from the 
 wrap folds, she stole down to the gravel sweep. 
 Outwardly she was something more than calm, but 
 the heart within still throbbed with those perilous, 
 slow beats. She had not wanted to talk, even if 
 able. She wanted to shut out the world and be 
 quite alone, to commune with the man in spirit, 
 to gather unto herself the composure and dignity 
 which he would expect from her. 
 
 How how had it all happened? In one hour 
 alone in the world in the next, a promised wife ! 
 "His heart's mate!" he had known it from the 
 first, he said. He had taken her to his breast, and 
 kissed her eyes and lips. Yes ; he had meant those 
 words. He had not been swept out of himself by 
 mere contemptible dread of losing his inheritance.
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 303 
 
 That was what she wished to realise in this interval. 
 If she could not she must flee from the place, from 
 contact with him, to-night now ! 
 
 She walked to and fro, scarcely seeing the path 
 ahead. And now she had paused, by the shrubbery ; 
 and now her thoughts came back with a sick rush 
 to the world around, and the thick beats of her 
 heart seemed to come to a sudden cessation. Oh 
 God ! Oh God ! what was that? 
 
 A low, terrible series of moans. A moaning 
 that seemed to have gone on through eternity a 
 pitiful suggestion of sound at the threshold of 
 death that congealed the life in her body. She 
 could not cry out could not think. Foot by 
 foot, quite unconscious of movement, she crept 
 along the shrubbery path, parting the overgrowth 
 as she went, the rank spittle of the shrubs adhering 
 to her wrap. And there at last she was, staring 
 down at a still shape that lay across the sodden 
 foot track. A woman, with life still left in her, 
 lying here ! 
 
 Dumb with awe, quivering with vague pity that 
 overwhelmed every other thought, she knelt, softly 
 drew away the wisps of torn veil from a deathlike 
 face and shuddered away again. Sister Judith 
 Cottrell ! 
 
 Sister Judith Cottrell ! A great bass bell seemed 
 to thunder the name into space ; elfin bells took 
 up the sound and brought it back in echoes. 
 Sister Judith, the unfathomable, the woman who 
 had walked the maze, stricken down dying 
 here, within a hundred yards of the house ! 
 
 The shock was its own antidote. She was down 
 upon her knees again, all that was noble and
 
 304 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 protective in her surging uppermost. She wound 
 her arms beneath the heavy head ; it was pillowed 
 now against her own breast. One more stare 
 down into the death-like face, and then her cry 
 rang across to the house, again and again : 
 
 " Help me ! Here here ! Mrs Saxon ! 
 Sophie! . . . Hush see for yourselves! Sister 
 Judith yes ; lying here lying near unto death. 
 Help me ; lift her gently, if you can ; carry her 
 straight in. Her face ! her poor, beaten face I 
 No, no, not to her own old room that is stripped 
 and cold ; no, to mine ! " 
 
 And in awed silence the still figure was lifted 
 In and dropped softly upon Sheba's bed. Strange 
 it might be, but Sheba found herself calmest of 
 them all at this moment, now that the first shock 
 had died. She issued her directions in a steady, 
 compelling whisper, with a new sense of responsi- 
 bility and a fixed belief of Fate's handiwork in 
 this last happening of all : 
 
 " Bring brandy ! The brandy, warm water, and 
 lint. And you, Parkins, run to Felcote for the 
 doctor as if you ran for my own life, and keep 
 your silence. Close the doors, please; there is 
 no need for confusion now. Mrs Saxon, you stay 
 to help me ; let everything else go, for the moment. 
 So white so still ! Is it is it to end in death ? " 
 " Miss Sheba ! Not that awful word to-night J 
 Oh, to think it should come to pass now for her 
 to come back to us, like a ghost from that past I 
 . . . No, her heart just beats. You may have 
 saved her maybe by minutes, if we knew ! " 
 
 They three were alone. They stooped over 
 her. It was Sheba's own fingers that touched
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 305 
 
 the convulsively closed lips with brandy, and 
 tenderly sponged away some stain from the 
 marble-like brows. And at last, when all their 
 efforts had seemed to come too late, a magnetic 
 tremble ran down the rigid figure. Bending lower 
 yet, clasping the icy fingers in hers, Sheba spoke 
 softly : 
 
 "Heaven's mercy! Sister Judith! You know 
 me again ? You can speak ? " 
 
 An uncertain spell of watching and listening. 
 It was just as the doctor's carriage wheels rattled 
 over the drive, as they stood back in readiness, 
 that the heavy eyelids slowly lifted like curtains, 
 and the eyes beneath fixed their blank stare upon 
 Sheba. The arms reached out ; the brain seemed 
 to right itself; a cry, ringing with the torture 
 of baffled passion, strained from her lips. 
 
 " Take her away blind her eyes that woman ! 
 Curse her ! curse her for all time, here and 
 hereafter ! She shall never marry her Spurr ! 
 You ! You took from me the one man I ever 
 loved the one man who had ever thought me 
 worth loving. Gilbert Gilbert ! Are you there 
 can you hear? Gilbert Lancing! Come to 
 me stand by me ! Tell me you never asked her 
 to be yours ; tell me you hate her, as I hate ! 
 Devils devils ! " 
 
 Blanched to the lips, blasted as by a hot wind 
 that had swept by, Sheba and Mrs Saxon stood 
 hand in hand. There was no need of a word, 
 even if either could have voiced it. To one 
 woman, at least, swift illumination had come in 
 that instant. Now she knew ! 
 
 There were just those few seconds for her mind 
 u
 
 306 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 to rise to the occasion. This doctor from Felcote, 
 substitute for the very man whose name had been 
 moaned out, was even now at the staircase head. 
 He would hear the woman's self-betrayed life 
 secret. The news would be flashed in turn to 
 Gilbert Lancing all Felcote might know within 
 a few hours. Just in time she sprang across to 
 the door. Sophie stood breathless there she had 
 sped on ahead to announce him. 
 
 " Sophie, quick ! Send the doctor back ! Back ! 
 Tell him there has been a mistake he is not 
 wanted I will write to him to-morrow and ex- 
 plain. Obey me ! " 
 
 And she closed and held the door, praying 
 audibly that that self-condemning scream might 
 not sound again, in time to reach his ears. And 
 the spell of silence mercifully held ; and the 
 doctor strode back to his carriage never to 
 know. As Mrs Saxon drew that sobbing breath 
 of relief Sheba looked out once more. 
 
 " Now ! Tell Parkins to drive his fastest into 
 Barrowdene and bring back old Doctor Wilmot. 
 To-night, at any cost, he must come. And let 
 it be understood that I hold you all responsible 
 for any breath outside of what has happened. I 
 trust you all ! " 
 
 " You are not you cannot be thinking to remain 
 in this room ! " Mrs Saxon gasped, as the hurried 
 footsteps died. "Impossible! That was no de- 
 lirium, but one flash of living truth. I cannot 
 allow it he will not allow it. She might she 
 might even go so far as to " 
 
 Sheba turned back her pallid, determined face. 
 She had taken her place by the bedside, and
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 307 
 
 clasped one of those groping hands resolutely 
 again. 
 
 " Please God, I must, and will ! You heard ? It 
 is me she hates. I came between them. If she 
 is to live she shall know. No one else must be 
 here to hear those words from her lips again. No ; 
 she has suffered, as only a woman can suffer. You 
 heard she loved him ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 AND so the minutes went by. And Sheba stayed 
 beside the moaning, writhing figure, whispering 
 soothingly, prepared to face that mad, accusing 
 stare again without flinching from duty. And, 
 just as it was to be, Mrs Saxon had stolen out to 
 make the ice bandage and beef tea with her own 
 careful hands, when that second searing, incoherent 
 cry thrilled along the quiet corridor. 
 
 "Vile! To attempt my life a man's hand 
 against a woman! He followed me here, to kill 
 me, to get the papers. That was the man I had 
 bought with a price to help me ! But I know him 
 now ! His card in my pocket this pocket ! He 
 shall pay pay for all when I have been revenged 
 on her. Not till then no ! I'll I'll forgive him 
 till then ; I have him in my power surely now. 
 Ah! At this moment you would give half you 
 hope for to have kept faith with Sister Judith. 
 That's me ! " 
 
 It died down. The hands shook and worked as 
 at the throat of some intangible foe bending above 
 her ; to and fro her sweat-damp face rocked upon 
 the pillows as in suffocation. Then she became 
 still. She was speaking in a cunning, stealthy 
 voice to the wall there. 
 
 " Hear me ? I was prepared for him. I had the 
 will and the deeds yes, but not in that packet ! I 
 did think my secret safe while I held them \ I for- 
 
 308
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 309 
 
 got how vile he was ! But they're still hidden 
 still hidden ! He shall do my work he shall come 
 to me on his knees for the price and he shall 
 never see or handle the deeds of his silver mine. 
 No one shall have them now no one ! And that 
 ends it all. You hear me ? " 
 
 " Hush oh, hush, for all our sakes ! " 
 " You hear me ? " it rose again. " Spartan Loder's 
 great scheme has gone down to the grave with him. 
 And the man who has waited and wasted so many 
 precious years to steal it the man who would sell 
 his soul for those papers, as his father did before 
 him shall die, too, a cheated pauper! I know 
 him : I can trace him ; men of that stamp never 
 fly far! He thinks he has killed me, and all is 
 safe ; but I know him I shall breathe at his 
 shoulder again Manisty, Nineteen, Ardilaun 
 Street, Brixton ! He may call himself Swift again 
 may try to flee the country ; but one advertise- 
 ment of mine will bring him back to do my work 
 to play his great part as Wilfred Spurr again ! 
 How how I loathe them all ! Heavens, the irony 
 of it shall come home to them ! Wilfred Spurr ! 
 I thought I had won him from her. I drew him to 
 my room ; I held his hands, and I told him ha, 
 ha! I told him that I was the woman Spartan 
 Loder meant him to marry ! And he believed it ; 
 he feared me ; he scorned me but he feared. And 
 she shall know yet what it means to be a woman 
 thrust back in favour of a woman more beautiful ! 
 The price of another woman's heart is a high one, 
 but she shall pay it in full ! " 
 
 So the sinister, concentrated gasps rose and fell. 
 Shuddering, shrinking, Sheba listened bravely to
 
 310 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 every word. As they died down again to delirious 
 whisperings she rose, held her breath in an agony 
 of hesitation, and then wrote down on a slip of 
 paper that address at Brixton. Before she forgot 1 
 It was written, together with as many of the ac- 
 companying words as she could recall at such a 
 moment. Beneath all, she penned a hasty little 
 message of her own. She had finished, as Mrs 
 Saxon rustled hurriedly in again. 
 " Doctor Wilmot is here already ! " 
 " Thank you ! " Sheba said steadily. Her fear 
 had gone now. Something was telling her that so 
 it had been ordained this night that now she was 
 face to face with the real crisis in all this dark sus- 
 pense. " Show him up at once, please ! And then 
 I trust you, and you alone, with this note for Mr 
 Spurr. Hand it to him the moment he returns. 
 Tell him that the Barrowdene office does not close 
 until eleven o'clock that a message can be got 
 through even later, if necessary. He will under- 
 stand. Tell him yes, tell him to act upon this 
 note just as he thinks right ! " 
 
 Past midnight now. Doctor Wilmot had driven 
 away long since ; the silence of one more night 
 had settled down over Felcote. 
 
 No ; she was not to die so tragically as that, he 
 had said, in his brusque, decisive fashion. The 
 blow, a fierce one dealt with some loaded thong- 
 butt, had left behind just the danger of brainal 
 fever; but the dawn would decide that doubt. 
 If that development could be kept at bay, if those 
 ice bandages were held incessantly to the burning 
 head for a few hours longer, the morning should
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 311 
 
 find Judith Cottrell able to move and think. One 
 week's perfect rest would do all that was then 
 required. And he looked at Sheba, and knew 
 that there was no need to say more. 
 
 And so the fateful hours ticked by, relieved only 
 by a dream-like moment when Wilfred Spurr him- 
 self stole along the corridor and tapped softly at that 
 door. It opened. Her arms went up around his 
 neck and hung there for a while in silence. He 
 was all in all to her now, and he was to know it. 
 
 "Yes!" he whispered, his eyes looking away. 
 "It is true, although I should never have spoken 
 of it in her lifetime. I can see now that she 
 knew of the will and its terms from the beginning 
 that she stole it away with a double motive. 
 She hoped she had a desperate hope of becoming 
 mistress here. Not from any motive of passion, 
 but to be revenged upon you upon my Sheba ! 
 I believed not a word of it then I tried to put it 
 out of my mind for ever ; but she had represented 
 herself to me as the woman Mr Loder wished me 
 to marry. Forget it ! forget it, dearest, as I have 
 done ! " His voice broke. He drew the unresist- 
 ing, slight figure closer and closer to him. " God 
 bless my brave little girl! I understand now all 
 that it means. All will come right. I shall be 
 with you every moment in thought. I only await 
 the morning. My Sheba waits with me ! " 
 
 He had been in time to send his later telegrams 
 flashing over the wires to London. By now the 
 machinery of the law was in motion ; the one fear 
 remaining was that the man Manisty might have 
 fled the country in a spasm of dread. No possible 
 reply could reach Felcote for hours yet; but he
 
 312 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 could wait calmly, with that new happiness in his 
 heart. Whatever happened, Sheba had come to 
 him his own for ever ! The money could go ! 
 
 And, hour by hour, in the room far above, Sheba 
 hung over that bed, determined that that blasting 
 hate should be stamped out determined to com- 
 fort and win the trust of the woman who had 
 wished her dead! 
 
 Thrice the great hall clock had chimed, and the 
 library timepiece had answered it. Three o'clock ! 
 And Sister Judith's pitiful murmurs had died 
 away ; the last wild sobbing fit was silenced ; she 
 seemed to have drifted into the lethargy of ex- 
 haustion. Thank heaven! it was the surest sign 
 that one dreaded development might be held 
 at bay. 
 
 Thrice, at least, Mrs Saxon had crept in and 
 implored to be allowed to take a spell at watching ; 
 but Sheba was unnervingly resolute. It was her 
 sole place, she answered. Through her, though 
 all unconsciously, a woman's life had been brought 
 to the brink of eternal destruction. 
 
 And now, overawed in spite of her courage by 
 the great stillness while the scales swung, she was 
 down upon her knees, breathing the words of a 
 woman who believes in Answer. 
 
 " Oh, speak to her in her trouble ! Spare her 
 life ! and spare her the agony of a future without 
 light and hope! Tell her the truth which, from 
 my lips, she may never believe ; tell her that, 
 while those words remain unrecalled, I could 
 never know happiness again ! What can I do to 
 make her believe me ? How shall she rise on the
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 313 
 
 stepping-stones of her dead self? I never knew 
 I never knew ! " 
 
 As the last breath died, as she unclosed her 
 eyes, she saw a strange sight. The words had 
 been heard ! Silently Judith Cottrell had swayed 
 up in the bed ; weakly her fingers felt out ; slowly 
 a different light seemed struggling through that 
 blank stare. 
 
 " She never knew. Never knew ! " came the 
 vague whisper of awe unspeakable. The groping 
 hand went back, to be laid against her own fore- 
 head, where the ghastly pain had throbbed. She 
 felt the bandage there. She stared at the kneeling 
 figure of that other woman, and around the familiar, 
 yet unfamiliar, room. " What is it where am I ? " 
 her lips seemed to move. 
 
 "It is my room at the Manor House. You 
 know?" Sheba answered back, just as softly, 
 afraid the wonderful illusion must break. 
 
 " Your room ? Yours ? No ! " 
 
 "Ay! You remember a little now? Not so 
 very long ago, when I lay ill, you sat beside me for 
 hours one night. Now it is my turn ! I brought 
 you here. Don't turn away yet ! You were lying 
 out there, so ill so near death, it seemed ! You 
 hated me then you thought you did ; but I could 
 not leave you. Oh, if I could but call back to life 
 the past few months, to prove to you by something 
 deeper than words that I " 
 
 She could not finish. She had risen, her arms 
 put out hesitatingly. But the deathly, rigid face 
 was drawn back. 
 
 " You brought me here you ! " It came again 
 the incredulously sunken gasp of amazement
 
 314 THE GRIP OF GOLD 
 
 beyond all telling. "You sat beside me, and 
 prayed prayed for my life! . . . Do you know? 
 I came I came to kill you ; to break your heart, 
 crush you I ... No, no ; don't touch me. Not that 
 not yet! Stand away let me speak. Go at 
 once ! Down to the room at the back of the lodge 
 by the gates there a gap in the window glass 1 
 In there ; you'll find the tin box his will and the 
 deeds ! I flung them in the corner there, when I 
 fled from the house that night. I feared pursuit 
 I knew I could always come back. I had stolen 
 them : taken the plan of the maze, and stolen them 
 from his hiding-place. I meant to keep them 
 from you, for ever. Go ! Let the world know 
 let the world know all ! Too late too late ! My 
 life is done ! Yours begins to-night ! Take your 
 heritage. Go ! " 
 
 "Hush, hush! Not yet!" Her own heart 
 beating as it might never beat again, Sheba was 
 creeping closer and closer for the supreme moment 
 which must come now or come never. And at last 
 at last the writhing, fighting figure ceased its re- 
 sistance, and was still. 
 
 " Be brave ! " Sheba had cried. " I know it all. 
 If there was a price to pay you have paid it in 
 full ; and the world need never know. Only one 
 woman has heard the words from your lips to-night 
 only one ! Think ! There is life to be lived 
 and, oh ! how true it proves that our poor lives are 
 really what we make them ! Think ! happiness 
 comes only from within ! You do not you could 
 not hate me. Tell me just that ! " 
 
 For the last time she stared, shrank, struck out ; 
 and then, with a wild cry, she had snatched Sheba's
 
 THE GRIP OF GOLD 315 
 
 face in both shaking hands, and drawn it down 
 down to her own burning lips, in the kiss that 
 atoned for all. 
 
 Half-past eight now ! 
 
 A golden morning sun, flushing the land with 
 rich promise, was throwing lances of amber through 
 the wide flung balcony windows, as a telegraph 
 messenger came hurrying up the drive. Wilfred 
 Spurr, counting the minutes, had watched. 
 Another instant, and the buff envelope was torn 
 away. 
 
 "The man Manisty shot himself in his rooms 
 at midnight Before death had signed full con- 
 fesssion. Officers on way with all particulars. 
 Chief Commissioner, Scotland Yard." 
 
 That was it that was all. He set his lips, drew 
 in one deep breath, and crushed the paper in his 
 palm. 
 
 The door had opened. Very pale, but with a 
 soft light shining in her eyes, the morning robe 
 clinging about her slight figure, Sheba stood 
 there. 
 
 "You have your news?" she whispered, as he 
 sprang a step. 
 
 "Ay! The light is dawning dawning! lam 
 very happy. And you ? " 
 
 As he held out his arms she put them back, 
 softly wound her own around his neck, and looked 
 up with the smile that lifts a woman to the level of 
 the angels. 
 
 " Sheba need not speak ! She loves you loves 
 you ! "
 
 JUST PUBLISHED 
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 A Brilliant Historical Romance 
 
 FOP the Honour of His Honse 
 
 A ROMANCE OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION 
 By H. BARTON BAKER 
 
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