hen I suppose the man got tired of hiding, for suddenly
Mrs. Wilcox screamed out his name. I recognised it, and I went for him
in the hall. Was I right, pater? I thought things were going a little
too far."

"Right, my dear boy? I don't know. But you would have been no son of
mine if you hadn't. Then did he just--just--crumple up as you said?" He
shrunk from the simple word.

"He caught hold of the bookcase, which came down over him. So I merely
put the sword down and carried him into the garden. We all thought he
was shamming. However, he's dead right enough. Awful business!"

"Sword?" cried his father, with anxiety in his voice. "What sword? Whose
sword?"

"A sword of theirs."

"What were you doing with it?"

"Well, didn't you see, pater, I had to snatch up the first thing handy.
I hadn't a riding-whip or stick. I caught him once or twice over the
shoulders with the flat of their old German sword."

"Then what?"

"He pulled over the bookcase, as I said, and fell," aid Charles, with
a sigh. It was no fun doing errands for his father, who was never quite
satisfied.

"But the real cause was heart disease? Of that you're sure?"

"That or a fit. However, we shall hear more than enough at the inquest
on such unsavoury topics."

They went in to breakfast. Charles had a racking headache, consequent on
motoring before food. He was also anxious about the future, reflecting
that the police must detain Helen and Margaret for the inquest and
ferret the whole thing out. He saw himself obliged to leave Hilton. One
could not afford to live near the scene of a scandal--it was not fair on
one's wife. His comfort was that the pater's eyes were opened at last.
There would be a horrible smash-up, and probably a separation from
Margaret; then they would all start again, more as they had been in his
mother's time.

"I think I'll go round to the police-station," said his father when
breakfast was over.

"What for?" cried Dolly, who had still not been "told."

"Very well, sir. Which car will you have?"

"I think I'll walk."

"It's a good half-mile," said Charles, stepping into the garden. "The
sun's very hot for April. Shan't I take you up, and then, perhaps, a
little spin round by Tewin?"

"You go on as if I didn't know my own mind," said Mr. Wilcox fretfully.
Charles hardened his mouth. "You young fellows' one idea is to get into
a motor. I tell you, I want to walk; I'm very fond of walking."

"Oh, all right; I'm ab