here--I'll tell you how! He'll ask for the
responsible authorities. That's Simon Crood and Company. He'll hear all
they've got to say. They'll say what they like. He'll examine their
documents. The documents will be all ready for him. Everything will be
nice and proper and in strict order, and every man will say precisely
what he's been ordered to say--and there you are! The Inspector will
issue his report that he's carefully examined everything and found all
correct, and the comedy will conclude with the farce of votes of thanks
all round! That's the line, Brent."

"Maybe!" said Brent. "And only maybe!"

"You're in a pessimistic vein, Mr. Tansley, sir," declared Peppermore.
"Sir, we're going to clean out the Augean stable!"

"Or perish in the attempt, eh, Peppermore?" retorted Tansley
good-humouredly. "All right, my lad! But it'll take a lot more than
_Monitor_ articles and Local Government Board inquiries to uproot the
ancient and time-honoured customs of Hathelsborough. _Semper eadem_,
Peppermore, _semper eadem_, that's the motto of this high-principled,
respectably ruled borough. Always the same--and no change."

"Except from bad to worse!" said Peppermore. "All right, sir; but
something's going to happen, this time."

Something did happen immediately following on the official announcement
of the Local Government Board inquiry, and it was Tansley who told Brent
of it.

"I say," he said, coming up to Brent in the street, "here's a queer
business--I don't know if you've heard of it. Mrs. Mallett's run away
from her husband! Fact! She's cleared clean out, and let it be known
too. Odd--mysteries seem to be increasing, Brent. What do you make of
it?"

Brent could make nothing of it. There might be many reasons why Mrs.
Mallett should leave her husband. But had this sudden retreat anything
to do with Mrs. Mallett's evidence at the inquest. He was speculating on
this when he got a request from Hawthwaite to go round at once to his
office. He responded immediately, to find the superintendent closeted
with Dr. Wellesley.

CHAPTER XIX

BLACK SECRETS AND RED TAPE

Before ever Brent dropped into the chair to which Hawthwaite silently
pointed him, he knew that he was about to hear revelations. He was
conscious of an atmosphere in that drab, sombre little room.
Hawthwaite's glance at him as he entered was that of a man who bids
another to prepare himself for news; Wellesley looked unusually stern
and perple