e. The creek isn't nearly deep
enough to have drowned him unless he had walked deliberately in and lain
down. He was quite sober, too, when he spoke to me. Mr. Ducaine, how
did he die? What killed him?"

I shook my head.

"If I could answer you these questions," I said, "I should feel much
easier in my own mind. But I cannot. I know no more about it than you
do."

We were both silent for a time, but I saw that there was a new look in
her face. It was a welcome relief when a groom from Rowchester overtook
us and pulled up his horse by our side.

"Are you Mr. Ducaine, sir?" he asked, touching his hat.

"Yes," I answered.

"I have a note for you from his Grace, sir," he said. "I was to take
back an answer if I found you at home."

He handed it to me, and I tore it open. It contained only a few lines,
in a large sprawling hand-writing.

"ROWCHESTER, Wednesday Morning.

"The Duke of Rowchester presents his compliments to Mr. Ducaine, and
would be much obliged if he could make it convenient to call upon him at
Rowchester between three and four o'clock this afternoon."

I folded the note up and turned to the groom.

"Will you tell his Grace," I said, "that you found me on the road, and I
was unable, therefore, to write my answer, but I will call at the time
he mentions?"

The man touched his hat and rode away. Blanche Moyat, who had been
standing a few yards off, rejoined me.

"Has the Duke sent for you to go there?" she asked, with obvious
curiosity.

"Yes. He has offered to lend me the village hall," I told her. "I
expect that is what he wants to see me about."

She tossed her head.

"You didn't tell me so just now when I told you that father had offered
to speak about it," she remarked.

"I am afraid," I said, gravely, "my mind was full of more serious
matters."

She said no more until we reached the front of the Moyats' house. Then
she did not offer me her hand, but she stood quite close to me, and
spoke in an unnaturally low tone.

"You wish me, then," she said, "not to mention about that man--his
asking the way to your cottage?"

"It seems quite unnecessary," I answered, "and it would only mean that I
should be bothered with questions which I could not answer."

"Very well," she said, "Good-bye!"

I shuddered to myself as I followed the wagon down the narrow street
towards the police station. A strange reserve had crept into her manner
during the latter portion of our walk. There was someth