his pocket," he said to himself,
contemptuously. Then conscious of a new swarm of ideas assailing him,
of new dangers, and a new wariness, he returned to the gallery, pacing
it till the police appeared. They came in force, within the hour,
accompanied by Undershaw.

* * * * *

The old chiming clock set in the garden-front of Duddon had not long
struck ten. Cyril Boden had just gone to bed. Victoria sat with her feet
on the fender in Tatham's study still discussing with him Felicia's
astonishing performance of the afternoon. She found him eagerly
interested in it, to a degree which surprised her; and they passed from
it only to go zealously together into various plans for the future of
mother and daughter--plans as intelligent as they were generous. The buzz
of a motor coming up the drive surprised them. There were no visitors in
the house, and none expected. Victoria rose in amazement as Undershaw
walked into the room.

"A horrible thing has happened. I felt that you must know before
anybody--with those two poor things in your house. Dixon has told me that
Miss Melrose saw her father this afternoon. I have come to bring you the
sequel."

He told his story. Mother and son turned pale looks upon each other.
Within a couple of hours of the moment when he had turned his daughter
from his doors! Seldom indeed do the strokes of the gods fall so fitly.
There was an awful satisfaction in the grim story to some of the deepest
instincts of the soul.

"Some poor devil he has ruined, I suppose!" said Tatham, his grave young
face lifted to the tragic height of the event. "Any clue?"

"None--except that, as I have told you, Faversham himself saw the
murderer, except his face, and Dixon saw his back. A slight man in
corduroys--that's all Dixon can say. Faversham and the Dixons were alone
in the house, except for a couple of maids. Perhaps"--he hesitated--"I
had better tell you some other facts that Faversham told me--and the
Superintendent of Police. They will of course come out at the inquest.
He and Melrose had had a violent quarrel immediately before the murder.
Melrose threatened to revoke his will, and Faversham left him,
understanding that all dispositions in his favour would be cancelled. He
came out of the room, spoke to Dixon in the gallery and walked to
his own sitting-room. Melrose apparently sat down at once to write a
codicil revoking the will. He was disturbed, came out into the gall