ved or despatched by us. It was a part of
the system.

"I picked it up at the post-office on my way," she explained, as I
presented myself at the front door and put out a hand for the letter.
"Look here, Harry: I know you to be a brave boy. You must pull
yourself together, and be as brave as ever you can. Your father--"

"What about my father?" I asked, taking the letter and staring into
her face. "Has anything happened? is he--is he dead?"

Mrs. Stimcoe lifted her hand and lowered it again, at the same moment
bowing her head with a meaning I could not mistake. I gazed dizzily
at Captain Branscome, and the look on his face told me--I cannot tell
you how--that he knew what the letter had to tell, and had been
expecting it. The handwriting was indeed Miss Plinlimmon's, although
it ran across the paper in an agitated scrawl most unlike her usual
neat Italian penmanship.

"My dearest Harry,

"You must come home to me at once, and by the first coach.
I cannot tell you what has happened save this--that you must
not look to see your father alive. We dwell in the midst of
alarms which A. Selkirk preferred to the solitude of Juan
Fernandez; but in this I differ from him totally, and so will
you when you hear what we have gone through. Come at once,
Harry, with the bravest heart you can summon, Such is the
earnest prayer of:"

"Your sincere friend in affliction,"
"Amelia Plinlimmon."

"P.S.--Pray ask Mrs. Stimcoe to be kind enough to advance the
fare if your pocket-money will not suffice."

"And I doubt if there's two shillings in the house!" commented Mrs.
Stimcoe, candid for once, "and God knows what I can pawn!"

Captain Branscome plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out a
guinea. Captain Branscome--who, to the knowledge of both of us,
never had a shilling in his pocket--stood there nervously proffering
me a guinea!

CHAPTER XI.

THE CRIME IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE.

Mrs. Stimcoe, having begged Captain Branscome to take watch for a
while over the invalid, and having helped me to pack a few clothes in
a handbag, herself accompanied me to the coach-office, where we found
the Royal Mail on the point of starting. The outside passengers,
four in number, had already taken their seats--two on the box beside
the coachman, and two on the seat immediately behind; and by the
light of the lamp overhanging the entry I perceiv