s the
work of poachers, had arrested men they knew were poachers in the vague
hope of somehow discovering something or of somehow getting hold of some
useful clue.
But that Dunn did not know, and feared unlucky chance or undesigned
coincidence must have appeared to suggest the guilt of the men and that
they were really in actual danger of trial and conviction. He had, too,
received that morning, through the secret means of communication he kept
open with an agent in London, conclusive proof that at the moment of
Clive's death Deede Dawson was in town on business that seemed obscure
enough, but none the less in town, and therefore undoubtedly innocent of
the actual perpetration of the murder.
Who, then, was left who could have fired the fatal shot?
It was a question Dunn dared not even ask himself but he saw very
plainly that if the proceedings against the two arrested men were to be
pressed, he would be forced to come forward before his preparations were
ready and tell all he knew, no matter at what cost.
All the morning he waited and watched for his opportunity to speak to
Ella, who was in a brighter and gayer mood than he had ever seen her in
before.
At breakfast Deede Dawson had assured her that he could not conceive
what were the suspicions she had referred to the night previously, and
while he would certainly have no objection to her mentioning them at
any time, in any quarter she thought fit if anything happened at Wreste
Abbey--and would indeed be the first to urge her to do so--he, for his
part, considered it most unlikely that anything of the sort she seemed
to dread would in fact occur.
"Not at all likely," he said with his happy, beaming smile that never
reached those cold eyes of his. "I should say myself that nothing ever
did happen at Wreste Abbey, not since the Flood, anyhow. It strikes me
as the most peaceful, secluded spot in all England."
"I'm very glad you think so," said Ella, tremendously relieved and glad
to hear him say so, and supposing, though his smooth words and smiles
and protestations deceived her very little, that, at any rate, what she
had said had forced him to abandon whatever plans he had been forming in
that direction.
Her victory, as it seemed to her, won so easily and containing good
promise of further success in the future, cheered her immensely, and it
was in almost a happy mood that she went unto the garden after lunch and
met Dunn in a quiet, well-hidden corner,
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