ct that Rowland Slocum was suspected of being in some way mixed
up with the murder. The fact that Lawyer Perkins, with his green bag
streaming in the wind, so to speak, had been seen darting into Mr.
Slocum's private residence at two o'clock that afternoon was
sufficient to give birth to the horrible legend.

"Mitchell's Alley," said Mr. Taggett, thrusting his arm through
Richard's, and hurrying on the escape the Stillwater gaze. "You went
there directly from the station the night you got home."

"How did you know that?"

"I was told by a fellow-traveler of yours,--and a friend of mine."

"By Jove! Did it ever strike you, Mr. Taggett, that there is such
a thing as being too clever?"

"It has occurred to me recently."

"Here is the house."

Two sallow-skinned children, with wide, wistful black eyes, who
were sitting on the stone step, shyly crowded themselves together
against the door-jamb to make passage-way for Richard and Mr.
Taggett. Then the two pairs of eyes veered round inquiringly, and
followed the strangers up the broken staircase and saw one of them
knock at the door which faced the building.

Richard's hasty tap bringing no response, he lifted the latch
without further ceremony and stepped into the chamber, Mr. Taggett a
pace or two behind him. The figure of Father O'Meara slowly rising
from a kneeling posture at the bedside was the first object that met
their eyes; the second was Torrini's placid face, turned a little on
the pillow; the third was Brigida sitting at the foot of the bed,
motionless, with her arms wrapped in her apron.

"He is dead," said the priest softly, advancing a step towards
Richard. "You are too late. He wanted to see you, Mr. Shackford, but
you were not to be found."

Richard sent a swift glance over the priest's shoulder. "He wanted
to tell me what part he had played in my cousin's murder?" said
Richard.

"God forbid! the wretched man had many a sin on his soul, but not
that."

"Not that!"

"No; he had no hand in it,--no more than you or I. His fault was
that he concealed his knowledge of the deed after it was done. He did
not even suspect who committed the crime until two days' afterwards,
when William Durgin"--

Richard's eyes lighted up as they encountered Mr. Taggett's. The
priest mistook the significance of the glances.

"No," said Father O'Meara, indicating Brigida with a quick motion
of his head, "the poor soul does not understand a word. But even if
she