f a woman, but of a
man."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE INEVITABLE

"I very much regret having to trouble you, Miss Merlin, at such a
time," said Inspector Gatton, "but as the paper lodged with you by the
late Sir Eric Coverly may throw some light upon a very dark matter,
perhaps you will read it to us."

I watched the play of expression upon Isobel's face with a depth of
sympathy which I cannot attempt to describe. The successive trials
which had been imposed upon her in so short a time had robbed her
cheeks of their sweet color and there were dark shadows under her
eyes. The tumult of my own feelings was such that I was scarcely
capable of consistent thought nor had I the moral courage to examine
those emotions which stirred so wildly within me.

Late on the previous night I had performed the unhappy duty of
breaking to her the news of Coverly's dreadful death. I shall never
forget that black hour. Her courage, however, under all these trials
had been admirable, and although I well knew what it must have cost
her, she replied now with perfect composure:

"Look--I took it out of my bureau when I heard that you were here,
Inspector."

She took up from the table a foolscap envelope sealed and having her
name written upon it in large and somewhat unsteady characters.

"I would suggest," said Gatton, with a delicacy which earned my
gratitude, "that you read it yourself first, Miss Merlin. If there is
anything helpful in it you can then communicate it to me."

I saw Isobel biting her lip hard, but she resolutely tore open the
envelope; and leaving her to read the contents, I joined Gatton at the
window. We both stood staring out for what seemed a very long time,
then:

"It is rather long," said Isobel in a low voice.

Gatton and I turned together, and saw her, looking even more pale than
before, seated by the table holding a sheet of notepaper in her hand.
Without glancing at either of us, she began to read as follows, in an
even and monotonous voice which I knew she had adopted to hide her
emotion:

"This account of my movements on the night of August 6th will only
be read in the event of my being falsely adjudged guilty of the
murder of my cousin, Marcus Coverly, or in the event of my death.

"On the afternoon of that date I was informed over the telephone
that my fiancee, Isobel Merlin, was meeting Sir Marcus the same
night at a place called the Red House. The address was giv