be inviolable."
"But," I began, "if they throw any light on the mystery—"
"They don't!" the Earl again interrupted; "the ramblings of that sick girl's mind have no foundation of truth, and would only confuse the case instead of clearing it!"
"You know a great deal about it, Lord Clarendon!" said Miss Lathrop, with that annoying smile of hers.
"I know what my common sense tells me. And I advise you, nurse, not to tangle things more deeply by repeating Miss Leslie's irresponsible remarks."
"They're not entirely irresponsible; and if I told all I knew, people might look in a different direction from where they're looking now. And perhaps the high and mightiness of some people might have a sudden fall."
As Miss Lathrop glanced out on the veranda where Irene was walking up and down with Tom Whiting, it was impossible not to believe that her hint referred to Miss Gardiner. But I also realized that Irene had not a very friendly attitude toward the nurse, and that doubtless Miss Lathrop's vague remarks were induced merely by a spirit of petty revenge.
Miss Lathrop was not an attractive woman. She was good-looking, but her spirit of self-importance and her readiness to imagine a slight cast upon her, seemed to imply a character of little sweetness and light.
The Earl of Clarendon as if struck by a sudden thought, said abruptly, "Miss Lathrop, I do not think you could tell us anything of importance. But if you do know positively any facts that bear on the case it is of course your duty to divulge them. Your opinions, however, would be entirely uncalled for." I couldn't help wondering why the Earl treated Miss Lathrop so brusquely. However, she seemed not so much to resent it as to wish to return it in kind.
"Oh, of course I don't know anything of importance," and she smiled superiorly; "but Miss Leslie did say that she thought the motor-coat and goggles might have disguised a woman as easily as a man."
I was thunderstruck at this, but the Earl took it coolly. "Did she say that?" he asked, "or did you suggest it, and she merely acquiesce?"
The flash of surprise in Miss Lathrop's eyes proved that he had hit upon the truth, though she deigned no reply whatever.
"Moreover," he went on, "if Miss Leslie said that, or even agreed to it, it was with the intent of diverting suspicion from a man."
"You don't really think Miss Leslie knows who the intruder was!" I exclaimed, while Miss Lathrop looked at the Earl in utter astonishment.
"Of course I don't," he replied, "nor shall I think so, until she says so herself."
I knew this only meant that he considered it the part of chivalry not to admit any suspicion of Mildred's veracity and sincerity before Nurse Lathrop; though he had certainly given me to understand, that he very much doubted Milly's whole story.
The nurse went away, and her complacent air gave no sign of annoyance; but I was sure, all the same, that the Earl's straightforward talk had at least stirred her calm self-assurance.
"Don't ever try to get information from that woman," said the Earl to me, confidentially; "she would withhold the truth if it suited her purpose, or she would so distort it that it would only lead you astray. You seem to be somewhat of a detective, Mr. King, and I hope you won't take my advice amiss."
"What makes you think I'm inclined to detective work, Lord Clarendon?"
"Only because you ask questions of everybody, and then go away by yourself to puzzle out the answers."
I was inclined to feel a little chagrined at this brief description of my procedure, but the Earl's smile was friendly, and I concluded not to take exception to his good-natured chaffing. So I only said, "Well, help me out whenever you can, won't you?" And then we went away to dress for dinner.
Chapter XII.
An Interview With Milly
When Mr. Hunt came back that evening he found me with Mr. Maxwell in the study. Although I did not wish to pain the old gentleman with more details than were necessary, yet I wanted him to know as nearly as possible how matters stood; and, too, I wanted the benefit of his sound judgment and good advice.
"Come in, Mr. Hunt, come in," I said to the detective. "Let us three sum up the real evidence we have and see what may be best to do next."
I closed the doors in order that we might feel more free to speak in tones which Mr. Maxwell could hear easily, and then I left it to Mr. Hunt to open the conversation.
"First," said the detective, "I would like to know Mr. Maxwell's opinion of Miss Leslie's testimony."
"I have just been reading the stenographer's report of it," said Mr. Maxwell. "I did not hear it clearly, so I asked permission to read the paper myself. I do not know Miss Leslie very well, but she impresses me as nothing more nor less than a merry, light-hearted, innocent girl. Coquettish, perhaps, but I think the depths of her nature are honest and sincere.
"Now, we have all agreed that her testimony regarding the inkstand and the bronze paper-weight cannot, in the very nature of things, be true testimony. For ink spilled on a carpet will remain there, and bronze horses cannot get up on a table by themselves.
"Personally, then, I am forced to the opinion that Miss Leslie's mind is affected—temporarily only, I trust.
"But surely there is no other explanation for her strange statements. And, granting this, may it not be possible that her whole story of the man in the automobile coat is but a figment of her diseased brain?"
"It is possible," said Mr. Hunt, "but they tell me that Miss Leslie is so clear-headed and rational in her conversation that I find it difficult to disbelieve her story of the intruder."
"Nor do I ask you to," said Mr. Maxwell. "I only want to call your attention to the logical point that such grave discrepancies in one part of her recital might argue doubt in other directions.
"I have a logical mind, but I have none of what is often called the 'detective instinct.' That is why I wish to put this whole affair entirely in the hands of an able detective.
"And again of a detective's ability I do not consider myself a judge. If you think, Mr. Hunt, that you can take care of it successfully, I have sufficient confidence in you to give you the entire responsibility. Or, should you prefer to call in an assistant or an expert from the city, I am quite willing you should do so."
"I don't want to seem egotistical, Mr. Maxwell," said Mr. Hunt, "but I can't help feeling that Mr. King and I can take care of this thing. Mr. King, though not a professional, tells me he has what you have called the 'detective instinct,' at least, in some degree. And if he will help me, I would prefer his assistance to that of a stranger."
"Then we will leave it that way," said Mr. Maxwell. "I shall be glad to have Mr. King for my guest as long as he will stay, and you may consider yourselves authorized to make such investigations as you see fit.
"I do not presume to advise you, but I want to ask you to take an old man's warning, and be sure of your proofs before you act upon them. Clues are often misleading; evidence may be false. But there are certain kinds of facts that point unmistakably to the truth. Those facts you must discover, and then follow where they lead, irrespective of whom they may implicate, and oblivious to any personal prejudice."
I couldn't help wondering if Mr. Maxwell shared my faint but growing suspicion that either Mr. Crane or Miss Gardiner, or both, knew more about the tragedy than they had yet told. I was sure the old gentleman's conservative habits of speech would not allow him to put this into words, but that his sense of justice demanded an intimation of the idea.
After a little further conversation with Mr. Maxwell, we left the study, and Hunt and I went for a walk.
"It's clear to my mind," said Hunt, "that this shooting was done by an intruder from outside, not a common burglar but