Wragg's voice,
could only suffer in silence. The three went out together. The two
women did the talking, and Millicent soon discovered that Bower had
unquestionably paid court to Helen from the first hour of his arrival
in the Maloja, whereas Spencer seemed to be an utter stranger to her
and to every other person in the place. This statement offered a
curious discrepancy to the story retailed by Mackenzie's assistant.
But it strengthened her case against Helen. She grew more determined
than ever to go on to the bitter end.

A communal official raised no difficulty about giving the name of the
occupant of the grave marked by the seventh cross from the tomb she
described. A child was buried there, a boy who died three years ago.
With Beryl Wragg's assistance, she cross examined the man, but could
not shake his faith in the register.

The parents still lived in the village. The official knew them, and
remembered the boy quite well. He had contracted a fever, and died
suddenly.

This was disappointing. Millicent, prepared to hear of a tragedy, was
confronted by the commonplace. But the special imp that attends all
mischief makers prompted her next question.

"Do you know Christian Stampa, the guide?" she asked.

The man grinned. "Yes, _signora_. He has been on the road for years,
ever since he lost his daughter."

"Was he any relation to the boy? What interest would he have in this
particular grave?"

The custodian of parish records stroked his chin. He took thought, and
reached for another ledger. He ran a finger through an index and
turned up a page.

"A strange thing!" he cried. "Why, that is the very place where Etta
Stampa is buried. You see, _signora_," he explained, "it is a small
cemetery, and our people are poor."

Etta Stampa! Was this the clew? Millicent's heart throbbed. How stupid
that she had not thought of a woman earlier!

"How old was Etta Stampa?" she inquired.

"Her age is given here as nineteen, _signora_; but that is a guess. It
was a sad case. She killed herself. She came from Zermatt. I have
lived nearly all my life in this valley, and hers is the only suicide
I can recall."

"Why did she kill herself, and when?"

The official supplied the date; but he had no knowledge of the affair
beyond a village rumor that she had been crossed in love. As for poor
old Stampa, who met with an accident about the same time, he never
mentioned her.

"Stampa is the lame Johnny who went up the Forno