le esteem as
a woman who, being bored to death by the eccentricities of her invalid
husband, had sought distraction with her friends in town, but
nevertheless honest and devoted to the man she had wedded. But these
words of hers caused doubt to arise within my mind. That she had been
devoted to her husband's interest was proved by the clever imposture
she was practising; indeed it seemed to me very much as if those
frequent visits to town had been at the "dead" man's suggestion and
with his entire consent. But the more I reflected upon the
extraordinary details of the tragedy and its astounding denouement,
the more hopeless and maddening became the problem.

"I shall probably go to town to-morrow," she exclaimed, after smiling
at his declaration. "Where are you in hiding just now?"

"In Birmingham. A large town is safer than a village. I return by the
six o'clock train, and go again into close concealment."

"But you know people in Birmingham, don't you? We stayed there once
with some people called Tremlett, I recollect."

"Ah, yes," he laughed. "But I am careful to avoid them. The district
in which I live is far removed from them. Besides, I never by any
chance go out by day. I'm essentially a nocturnal roamer."

"And when shall we meet again?"

"By appointment, in the usual way."

"At the usual place?" she asked.

"There can be no better, I think. It does not take you from home, and
I am quite unknown down here."

"If any of the villagers ever discovered us they might talk, and
declare that I met a secret lover," she laughed.

"If you are ever recognised, which I don't anticipate is probable, we
can at once change our place of meeting. At present there is no
necessity for changing it."

"Then, in the meantime, I will exercise my woman's diplomacy to effect
peace between Ethelwynn and the doctor," she said. "It is the only way
by which we can obtain security."

"For the life of me I can't discern the reason of his coolness towards
her," remarked my "dead" patient.

"He suspects her."

"Of what?"

"Suspects the truth. She has told me so."

Old Henry Courtenay grunted in dissatisfaction.

"Hasn't she tried to convince him to the contrary?" he asked. "I was
always under the impression that she could twist him round her
finger--so hopelessly was he in love with her."

"So she could before this unfortunate affair."

"And now that he suspects the truth he's disinclined to have any more
to do with he