e double disappearance?"

Bryce had already accounted for that, in his own secret mind. And now,
having got all that he wanted out of the old clergyman, he rose to take
his leave.

"You will regard this interview as having been of a strictly private
nature, Mr. Gilwaters?" he said.

"Certainly!" responded the old man. "But--you mentioned that you wished
to marry the daughter? Now that you know about her father's past--for I
am sure she must be John Brake's child--you won't allow that to--eh?"

"Not for a moment!" answered Bryce, with a fair show of magnanimity.
"I am not a man of that complexion, sir. No!--I only wished to clear up
certain things, you understand."

"And--since she is apparently--from what you say--in ignorance of her
real father's past--what then?" asked Mr. Gilwaters anxiously. "Shall
you--"

"I shall do nothing whatever in any haste," replied Bryce. "Rely upon me
to consider her feelings in everything. As you have been so kind, I will
let you know, later, how matters go."

This was one of Pemberton Bryce's ready inventions. He had not the least
intention of ever seeing or communicating with the late vicar of Braden
Medworth again; Mr. Gilwaters had served his purpose for the time being.
He went away from Bayswater, and, an hour later, from London, highly
satisfied. In his opinion, Mark Ransford, seventeen years before, had
taken advantage of his friend's misfortunes to run away with his wife,
and when Brake, alias Braden, had unexpectedly turned up at Wrychester,
he had added to his former wrong by the commission of a far greater one.

CHAPTER X. DIPLOMACY

Bryce went back to Wrychester firmly convinced that Mark Ransford had
killed John Braden. He reckoned things up in his own fashion. Some
years must have elapsed since Braden, or rather Brake's release. He had
probably heard, on his release, that Ransford and his, Brake's, wife had
gone abroad--in that case he would certainly follow them. He might have
lost all trace of them; he might have lost his original interest in his
first schemes of revenge; he might have begun a new life for himself in
Australia, whence he had undoubtedly come to England recently. But
he had come, at last, and he had evidently tracked Ransford to
Wrychester--why, otherwise, had he presented himself at Ransford's door
on that eventful morning which was to witness his death? Nothing, in
Bryce's opinion, could be clearer. Brake had turned up. He and Ransford