. Tacitly--though thankfully enough, poor
girl!--she had recognised the fact and made me once more free of the
house.

For there was no disguising the situation. Newspaper boys yelled the
news up and down Fleet Street from morning to night; soul-shaking
posters grinned on gaping crowds; and the newspapers fairly wallowed in
the "Shocking details." It is true that no direct accusations were made;
but the original reports of the disappearance were reprinted with such
comments as made me gnash my teeth with fury.

The wretchedness of those days will live in my memory until my dying
day. Never can I forget the dread that weighed me down, the horrible
suspense, the fear that clutched at my heart as I furtively scanned the
posters in the streets. Even the wretched detectives who prowled about
the entrances to Nevill's Court became grateful to my eyes, for,
embodying as they did the hideous menace that hung over my dear lady,
their presence at least told me that the blow had not yet fallen.
Indeed, we came, after a time, to exchange glances of mutual
recognition, and I thought that they seemed to be sorry for her and for
me, and had no great liking for their task. Of course, I spent most of
my leisure at the old house, though my heart ached more there than
elsewhere; and I tried, with but poor success, I fear, to maintain a
cheerful, confident manner, cracking my little jokes as of old, and even
essaying to skirmish with Miss Oman. But this last experiment was a dead
failure; and when she had suddenly broken down in a stream of brilliant
repartee to weep hysterically on my breast, I abandoned the attempt and
did not repeat it.

A dreadful gloom had settled down upon the old house. Poor Miss Oman
crept silently but restlessly up and down the ancient stairs with dim
eyes and a tremulous chin, or moped in her room with a parliamentary
petition (demanding, if I remember rightly, the appointment of a female
judge to deal with divorce and matrimonial causes) which lay on her
table languidly awaiting signatures that never came. Mr. Bellingham,
whose mental condition at first alternated between furious anger and
absolute panic, was fast sinking into a state of nervous prostration
that I viewed with no little alarm. In fact, the only really
self-possessed person in the entire household was Ruth herself, and even
she could not conceal the ravages of sorrow and suspense and
overshadowing peril. Her manner was almost unchanged; or rath