art with an idea that may be
totally valueless, but which has impressed me so that it must out, if I
am to have any peace to-night. Mr. Gryce, allow me to whisper in your
ear. Some things lose force when spoken aloud."

And leaning forward, she breathed a short sentence into his ear which
made him start and regard her with an amazement which rapidly grew into
admiration.

"Madam!" he cried, rising up that he might the better honor her with one
of his low bows, "your idea, whether valueless or not, is one which is
worthy of the acute lady who proffers it. We will act on it, ma'am, act
at once. Wait till I have given my orders. I will not keep you long."

And with another bow, he left the room.

CHAPTER VII.

AMOS'S SON.

Miss Butterworth had been brought up in a strict school of manners. When
she sat, she sat still; when she moved, she moved quickly, firmly, but
with no unnecessary disturbance. Fidgets were unknown to her. Yet when
she found herself alone after this interview, it was with difficulty she
could restrain herself from indulging in some of those outward
manifestations of uneasiness which she had all her life reprobated in
the more nervous members of her own sex. She was anxious, and she showed
it, like the sensible woman she was, and was glad enough when Mr. Gryce
finally returned and, accosting her with a smile, said almost gayly:

"Well, that is seen to! And all we have to do now is to await the
result. Madam, have you any further ideas? If so, I should be glad to
have the benefit of them."

Her self-possession was at once restored.

"You would?" she repeated, eying him somewhat doubtfully. "I should like
to be assured of the value of the one I have already advanced, before I
venture upon another. Let us enter into a conference instead; compare
notes; tell, for instance, why neither of us look on Bartow as the
guilty man."

"I thought we had exhausted that topic. Your suspicions were aroused by
the young couple you saw leaving the house, while mine--well, madam, to
you, at least, I may admit that there is something in the mute's
gestures and general manner which conveys to my mind the impression that
he is engaged in rehearsing something he has seen, rather than something
he has done; and as yet I have seen no reason for doubting the truth of
this impression."

"I was affected in the same way, and would have been, even if I had not
already had my suspicions turned in another direction.