when paul returned to barnstead he felt satisfied that he had done wisely in seeking the confidence of miss clyde. without doubt her statement had simplified matters in connection with the crime, although it had not altogether solved the mystery which shrouded the death of milly. instead of suspecting three people, as he had done prior to his visit, paul now directed his energies to the discovery of the guilt of one, and that one, as may be guessed, was lucas lovel. miss clyde had exonerated herself; she had proved the innocence of lester; so the obtainable evidence now pointed to the guilt of lovel. herne and iris believed that he had committed the crime; brent and miss clyde insisted that he was innocent; and gran jimboy, for a reason of her own, had provided a lying alibi to extricate the suspected man from a dangerous position. paul, reflecting on the situation, did not know what view to take.
there was no doubt that lovel recognised his danger, and had induced the old gipsy to aid him in averting it by perjuring herself at the inquest; also he had bribed the ploughman brent into concealing his presence in the winding lane on the fatal night, at the fatal hour. but one thing was certain, that lovel was the last person who had seen the murdered girl alive. this was proved by the evidence of brent and miss clyde--both friendly witnesses to lovel--both of whom stated distinctly that he had been with milly lester within half an hour of her death. it was therefore impossible, as paul thought, that he should not know something about the murder, if, indeed, he had not committed it himself. yet, if he were guilty, he would have sought safety in flight; but as yet he still lingered at the herne arms.
"i'll see if he comes to the funeral," said paul to himself as he sat at luncheon; "that will go far, to my mind, to prove if he is innocent or guilty. if milly is really dead by his hand, i don't think he will have the hardihood to see her body placed in a grave. if, on the other hand, he did not kill her, he will come to her burial, and i can tell from his demeanour what his thoughts are. even the most reticent man must reveal his feelings at such a moment; and if lovel is guilty, he will be wise enough to keep away."
going by this theory, the suspected man was innocence itself, for when paul joined the throng of curious sightseers which was crowding into the cemetery, one of the first persons he saw was lucas lovel. nay, more; the young man did not lurk in the background, but thrust himself forward so as to compose one of the group which stood immediately round the grave. he was dressed in black; pale, but composed, he exhibited none of the agitation which a guilty man would have found it difficult to conceal. tested thus, and tested by his own free-will, lovel was innocent; and despite the evidence to the contrary, and the openly stated beliefs of iris and herne, the journalist was inclined to believe that lovel had not killed the girl.
naturally, under the circumstances, there was a great concourse of people at the funeral of the dead girl. iris and mrs. mexton were there, paul and lovel, miss clyde and mrs. drass; also herne, who had been engaged to the deceased, and francis chaskin, who read the service over that untimely grave. but these persons attended because they were kinsfolk and friends of the person whom they were burying. the majority of the crowd were attracted to the spot by morbid curiosity. it had been rumoured that dr. lester, who was suspected of the murder, would be allowed to attend the funeral of his unfortunate child; and the crowd were determined to give him a warm reception for his insolence in attending the successful outcome of his iniquity. fortunately, however, for the decency of the funeral, lester remained locked up in marborough gaol, and the multitude, or rather the mob, of over-zealous persons, were disappointed. there was no one at whom to gaze as a genuine criminal; no one to shoot, or to throw stones at; and when the earth was heaped over the coffin of milly lester, the throng melted away with the conviction that it had been swindled out of a sensation. the burial had proved less interesting than they expected.
chaskin was overcome with emotion several times as he read the service, and paul wondered if what miss clyde had asserted was true, and if the vicar had also been conquered by, the triumphant beauty of milly. it seemed likely, but paul had heard no rumour in confirmation of the report. from the face of chaskin he looked to that of herne, and saw that the latter was scowling at lovel, who, with his bent head and dejected mien, stood on the other side of the grave. lucas took no notice of herne's stern gaze, but stared with tearful eyes into the hole, at the bottom of which lay the coffin of milly lester. so sad did he look, so overcome with a sorrow far removed from remorse or terror, that mexton unhesitatingly acquitted him of complicity in the crime. whosoever had cut short the thread of that young existence, it was not lucas lovel.
later on paul caught a glimpse of gran jimboy's red cloak flaming on the outskirts of the crowd; and when the service was over he went to look for her, in the hope of discovering why she lied at the inquest. but either the old dame had guessed his intention, or did not want to be spoken to by anyone; for before he could reach the spot where he had seen her standing, she had vanished and he could not determine in which direction she had gone. while he was wondering how he should find her he was greeted by darcy herne, who looked haggard and worn in his black clothes.
"mr. mexton," said he, leading paul to one side for confidential discourse, "i know from iris that you are looking for the assassin of milly. well, i wish you to do nothing further in the matter till i return."
"till you return!" repeated paul, with a swift glance at the pallid face of his companion. "are you going away?"
"yes; i am going to london."
"on one of your missions connected with religious work?"
"no; on a mission connected with the murder of my poor milly."
"really!" paul looked sceptical. "i can't conceive how the commission of a crime in barnstead can take you to london. may i ask for your reasons?"
"not at present," replied herne quietly; "later on i may explain them."
"at least tell me why you wish me to do nothing in the matter until your return?"
"no," said darcy decisively; "the explanation has too much to do with my reasons."
"but i have found out something which goes to prove that you are right in suspecting lovel."
"i do not suspect lovel," was herne's strange answer.
paul was bewildered. "but you said----"
"i know what i said, mexton; but i was wrong. i don't think lovel killed milly."
"then who did? dr. lester is innocent; i have discovered that much."
"i know he is innocent," rejoined the squire; "and so is lovel. as to the guilty person, my journey to london is concerned with that."
"you have a suspicion?"
"i have; but it may go for nothing."
"when did you find this clue you are following to london?"
"on the day you and i and chaskin examined the spot where the murder was committed."
"oh!" paul's thoughts flew back to herne's trance, and subsequent behaviour. "so you think that the rainbow feather is a clue?"
"what do you know about the rainbow feather?" questioned herne sharply.
"nothing--save that you picked up a parti-coloured feather, and called it by that name. is it a clue?"
"i think so. i am not sure," replied darcy, doubtfully. "i'll tell you on my return."
"when do you return?"
"in three days. have i your promise not to pursue the investigation against lovel till i come back?"
"oh, yes!" said paul, yielding readily enough, the more easily as at the moment he did not know how to act in the matter. "i'll do nothing till you come back and explain. but the rainbow feather----"
"good-day, mexton; i'm in a hurry," said herne, cutting short the speech; "in three days you will know as much as i do about that feather."
he hurried away, and paul stood looking after him, wondering how the discovery of a dyed feather could affect the case. had some blood-thirsty person come down from london especially to murder milly, and had the rainbow feather been left as the sign manual of the work, after the fashion of a secret society? paul smiled at the fantasy of the idea. milly did not know anyone in london--or rather had not known, since the poor girl must now be spoken of in the past tense--and the fame of her beauty could not have spread beyond the environs of barnstead and marborough. the tragedy of her death had given her a fame much wider.
after some meditation paul found himself unable to explain herne's conversation; and for the time being he put the matter of the squire's departure to london out of his mind. his attention was further distracted by the approach of miss clyde, her companion, and iris. this trio paused before him, and iris began to talk.
"paul," she said, lifting her veil, "miss clyde is exceedingly kind. she intends to offer herself as bail for my step-father."
"with mr. mexton, of course!" said miss clyde in her hearty voice. "we can go to marborough tomorrow, and after the due formalities, have dr. lester released. then he can come back here."
"alone?" said mexton, thinking of lester's weakness.
"ah," cried mrs. drass, penetrating his thoughts, "that is just what i say! if dr. lester comes back, he will take to the brandy-bottle again."
"i don't think so," said iris, shaking her head. "miss clyde's lesson has been very severe."
"oh! so you know that dr. lester is innocent, iris?"
"of course she does," interposed miss clyde cheerfully. "i told her about it before the funeral."
"well," said mrs. drass with a doubtful look, "i only hope that the lesson will do the doctor good; but you mark my words, he'll drink again when alone in his own house."
"he won't be alone," said iris quietly. "i shall come back with him."
"and leave my mother, iris?" said paul.
"yes. mrs. mexton thinks i should be with my stepfather; and i think so also. he has lost poor milly, and i must do my best to comfort him."
"i saw you talking to mr. herne," said mrs. drass to paul. "what has he to say to this death, mr. mexton?"
"he is very much concerned, mrs. drass, and wishes to hunt down the assassin."
"lucas lov----" began iris quickly, and then stopped, as she recollected how miss clyde loved the suspected man.
"oh! go on," said miss clyde, with all calmness. "i know mr. lovel is innocent, so i don't mind how much you and mr. herne suspect him."
"i beg your pardon," said paul, "but mr. herne does not suspect lovel now."
"why not?" asked iris, astonished.
paul shook his head. "i can't tell you," he said, "but mr. herne asked me to do nothing further in the matter touching mr. lovel."
"what have you done?"' asked miss clyde sharply.
"i have found out that he was with milly twenty minutes before the murder."
"he was not!" cried mrs. drass eagerly; "he was in mother jimboy's tent. she swore that he was!"
"i know," replied paul quietly; "and she swore a lie. miss clyde knows."
"i know that lucas went into the winding lane with milly," said miss clyde in rather a troubled voice; "but no doubt he left her at the stile and went straight on to the gypsy tent."
"but he swore at the inquest that he was not in the lane on that night!" said iris.
"i know; i know, my dear," was miss clyde's reply. "but he did that to save himself from being unjustly suspected. i don't believe he killed milly; and you hear what mr. mexton says: that mr. herne is of the same opinion."
"his opinion has changed then!" remarked iris, "and i should like to ask him why."
"you can't at present, iris. mr. herne has just gone to london."
"to london!" echoed miss clyde, in surprise. "what bad taste to go away so soon after the funeral. why has he gone?"
"i don't know, miss clyde."
"but i do," said mrs. drass, with a sniff; "he has gone to see that minx!"
"what minx?" asked paul, astonished.
"catinka, the violinist," replied mrs. drass, coolly. "oh, mr. lovel told me all about that hussy! mr. herne did not love milly; he loves this catinka, and she loves him. that was why mr. herne went up to town so often; and why he has gone now."
"impossible!" said mexton, growing pale as he thought of his own passion for the violinist.
"i tell you it is so!" rejoined mrs. drass, wrathfully. "if she doesn't love him, why did she come down here?"
"to marborough?"
"no, to barnstead. she was in the church on the night milly was murdered."
"what!" cried iris, sharply. "was she the strange lady i saw leaving the church?"
"she was!" said mrs. drass, triumphantly. "i saw her, too, and made it my business to find out all about her. there was a marborough friend of mine in the church who saw catinka when she gave her concert. she tells me to-day--i have just parted from her--that the strange lady who was in the church on that night was catinka. now what do you say, mr. mexton?"
paul had nothing to say. he did not even open his lips, but wondered if catinka had anything to do with the rainbow feather, the finding of which had disturbed herne so greatly.
