to
Minden Cottage to deposit the secret with him; and that Glass,
following in pursuit, had surprised and murdered the both of them.
The exact catena of the two crimes mattered less to me than the
question: Had Glass possessed himself of the secret before making
off? At first I saw no room to doubt it. But your young friend's
account of himself sent me to Falmouth, and at Falmouth I began to
have my doubts. My earliest inquiries there were addressed to the
pedagogue--the Reverend Something-or-other Stimcoe--a drunken idiot,
who yielded no information at all; and to his wife, a lady who
persisted in regarding me as sent from heaven for no other purpose
than to discharge her small debts. From her, again, I learned
nothing. But from a talk with one of her pupils--his name was Bates,
if I remember--I discovered that Master Harry had been a particular
crony of Coffin's, and this, of course, threw light on Coffin's visit
to Minden Cottage. Still, there remained the question: Had Glass
managed to lay hands on the chart, or had it found its way, after
all, into the possession of Master Harry Brooks? You'll excuse me,
young sir"--Dr. Beauregard turned to me--"but during our talk in the
garden, your manner suggested to me that you had a card up your
sleeve. Well, whatever the answer, my obvious course was to return
to Mortallone and await it, as for fifteen years already I have been
awaiting it, though question and answer were but now beginning to
take definite form. Here you are then at last, and here am I--
_tout vient a point a qui sait attendre_."

"Then our arrival, sir, did not altogether surprise you?" said Miss
Belcher.

"On the contrary, ma'am--though for reasons you will not easily
guess--it surprised me as I have never been surprised in all my life
before; it confounded me, dumfounded me, made chaos of my plans,
and--and--I am delighted to welcome you, ma'am! I desire to be
allowed the honour of taking wine with you."

"Willingly!" assented Miss Belcher, holding out her glass to be
replenished; "and the more so because I never drank better Rhone wine
in my life."

Dr. Beauregard stood up and bowed, his fine features overspread with
a flush of pleased astonishment.

"Madam--" began Dr. Beauregard, and I have no doubt he had a
compliment on his lips. But at that moment the hills and the
amphitheatre of cliff behind us, rang out--rang out and echoed--with
two terrible screams.

CHAPTER XXXI.