t a second shot was
fired in the garden, and it was that which killed Ishmael Hearne."

"It is true, Darby. I only fired the first shot, as those who were with
me will tell you. I don't know who shot in the garden, and apparently no
one else does. It was this unknown individual in the garden that killed
Hearne. By the way, how did you come to hear the name?"

"Half a dozen people have told me, my lord, along with the information I
have just given you. Nothing else is talked of far and wide."

"And it is just twelve o'clock," muttered the stout little lord, wiping
his scarlet face pettishly. "Ill news travels fast. However, as you are
here, you may as well take charge of things until the London men
arrive."

"The London men aren't going to usurp my privileges, my lord," said
Darby, firmly. "There's no sense in taking matters out of my hands. And
if you will pardon my saying so, I should have been sent for in the
first instance."

"I daresay," snapped Garvington, coolly. "But the matter is too
important to be left in the hands of a local policeman."

Darby was nettled, and his hard eyes grew angry. "I am quite competent
to deal with any murder, even if it is that of the highest in England,
much less with the death of a common gypsy."

"That's just where it is, Darby. The common gypsy who has been shot
happens to be my brother-in-law."

"Sir Hubert Pine?" questioned the inspector, thoroughly taken aback.

"Yes! Of course I didn't know him when I fired, or I should not have
done so, Darby. I understood, and his wife, my sister, understood, that
Sir Hubert was in Paris. It passes my comprehension to guess why he
should have come in the dead of night, dressed as a gypsy, to raid my
house."

"Perhaps it was a bet," said Darby, desperately puzzled.

"Bet, be hanged! Pine could come openly to this place whenever he liked.
I never was so astonished in my life as when I saw him lying dead near
the shrubbery. And the worst of it is, that my sister ran out and saw
him also. She fainted and has been in bed ever since, attended by Lady
Garvington."

"You had no idea that the man you shot was Sir Hubert, my lord?"

"Hang it, no! Would I have shot him had I guessed who he was?"

"No, no, my lord! of course not," said the officer hastily. "But as
I have come to take charge of the case, you will give me a detailed
account of what has taken place."

"I would rather wait until the Scotland Yard fellows come," grumbled
Gar