hip. I did not see you arrive or I had at once
persuaded you to go."

De Chavasse would again have interposed. He stooped and picked up Sue's
cloak which had fallen to the ground, and as he went up to her with the
obvious intention of replacing it around her shoulders, she checked him,
with a slight motion of her hand.

"I only heard of this terrible crime an hour ago," she said, speaking
once more to Boatfield, "and as I methinks, am the only person in the
world who can throw light upon this awesome mystery, I thought it my
duty to come."

"Of a truth 'twas brave of your ladyship," quoth the squire, feeling a
little bewildered at this strange announcement, "but surely ... you
did not know this man?"

"If the rumor which hath reached me be correct," she replied quietly,
"then indeed did I know the murdered man intimately. Prince Amede
d'Orleans was my husband."

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE OLD WOMAN

There was silence in the tiny cottage parlor as the young girl made this
extraordinary announcement in a firm if toneless voice, without
flinching and meeting with a sort of stubborn pride the five pairs of
eyes which were now riveted upon her.

From outside came the hum of many voices, dull and subdued, like the
buzzing of a swarm of bees, and against the small window panes the
incessant patter of icy rain driven and lashed by the gale. Anon the
wind moaned in the wide chimney, ... it seemed like the loud sigh of the
Fates, satisfied at the tangle wrought by their relentless fingers in
the threads of all these lives.

Sir Marmaduke, after a slight pause, had contrived to utter an
oath--indicative of the wrath he, as Lady Sue's guardian, should have
felt at her statement. Squire Boatfield frowned at the oath. He had
never liked de Chavasse and disapproved more than ever of the man's
attitude towards his womenkind now.

The girl was in obvious, terrible distress: what she was feeling at this
moment when she was taking those around her into her confidence could be
as nothing compared to what she must have endured when she first heard
the news that her strange bridegroom had been murdered.

The kindly squire, though admitting the guardian's wrath, thought that
its violent expression was certainly ill-timed. He allowed Sue to
recover herself, for the more calm was her attitude outwardly, the more
terrible must be the effort which she was making at self-control.

Sue's eyes were fixed steadily upon her guardian,