man disappeared into the gloom, the rector went to his
house, wondering at the sudden change in Morley's character. He had been
a light-hearted and rather frivolous creature; fond of gaiety and
overflowing with the milk of human kindness. Now he was fierce and
savage enough for a Caliban. "He must have loved that poor girl very
dearly," sighed Drake, "but I can't believe that such a charming woman
as Miss Denham committed so cruel a crime. There is some mystery about
this," and in this last speech he was right. There was a mystery about
the death, and a much deeper one than a shallow man like the rector
could fathom.

All through the long night Mrs. Morley watched by the dead. She had
placed candles on either side of the bed, and laid a cross on the poor
child's breast. Drake was quite shocked when he saw this Papistical
arrangement. But it afterwards came out that Mrs. Morley had been
educated in a convent, and had imbibed certain notions of the Romish
ritual for the dead that, her memory reviving, made her act thus, in
spite of her openly confessed belief in the communion of the English
Church. While she was thus sitting and weeping, Morley looked in. He was
wild and haggard, but in his eyes glared a triumphant expression which
terrified his wife. She did not dare to move. He crossed the room, and
looked at the body. "You shall be avenged, my dear," he said solemnly,
and before Mrs. Morley could recover from her surprise and denounce this
ill-chosen moment for a visit, he wheeled round and disappeared.

He did not retire either, no more did the servants, who were collected
in the kitchen steadying their nerves with tea. So it happened that when
Giles, weary, wet, and worn, rode up to the door in the morning on a
jaded beast, he was met by Morley.

"Have you caught her?" asked the man.

Giles dismounted and threw the reins to a groom. "No. Trim went one way
and I another. Where he is I don't know, but my horse gave in, and I
returned." He entered the house. "Where is the body?" he asked.

"Up in the room it occupied during life," said Morley; "but come into
the library, I have something to show you."

Ware followed and sank wearily into a chair. He could scarcely keep his
eyes open. Nevertheless he started up wide awake when his host spoke.
"Miss Denham killed Daisy," said Morley. "She took a stiletto from the
wall yonder, and here it is." He produced it with a dramatic wave.

"Where did you find it?"

"Besid