ean me to go on?"

"Go on?"

"Following up the clews which you have yourself given me? I've only
finished with one; there's another--"

"The bottles?"

"Yes, the bottles. I believe that I shall not fail there if you'll give
me a little time. I'm a stranger in town, you remember, and cannot be
expected to move as fast as a local detective."

"Sweetwater, you have but one duty--to follow both clews as far as they
will take you. As for my duty, that is equally plain, to uphold you in
all reasonable efforts and to shrink at nothing which will save the
innocent and bring penalty to the guilty. Only be careful. Remember the
evidence against Ranelagh. You will have to forge an exceedingly strong
chain to hold your own against the facts which have brought this recreant
lover to book. You see--O, I wish that poor girl could get ease!" he
impetuously cried, as "Lila! Lila!" rang again through the house.

"There can never be any ease for her," murmured Sweetwater. "Whatever the
truth, she's bound to suffer if ever she awakens to reality again. Do you
agree with the reporters that she knew why and for what her unhappy
sister left this house that night?"

"If not, why this fever?"

"That's sound."

"_She_--" the coroner was emphatic, "_she_ is the only one who is wholly
innocent in this whole business. Consider her at every point. Her life is
invaluable to every one concerned. But she must not be roused to the
fact; not yet. Nor must he be startled either; you know whom I mean.
Quiet does it, Sweetwater. Quiet and a seeming deference to his wishes as
the present head of the house."

"Is the place his? Has Miss Cumberland made a will?"

"Her will will be read to-morrow. For to-night, Arthur Cumberland's
position here is the position of a master."

"I will respect it, sir, up to all reasonable bounds. I don't think he
meditates giving any trouble. He's not at all impressed by our presence.
All he seems to care about is what his sister may be led to say in her
delirium."

"That's how you look at it?" The coroner's tone was one of gloom. Then,
after a moment of silence: "You may call my carriage, Sweetwater. I can
do nothing further here to-day. The atmosphere of this house stifles me.
Dead flowers, dead hopes, and something worse than death lowering in the
prospect. I remember my old friend--this was his desk. Let us go, I say."

Sweetwater threw open the door, but his wistful look did not escape the
older man's eye.