house since you first set foot in
it."

"She always hated my lady," chimed in a female. "It's my opinion
she'll be more glad than sorry if she is made away with. She wanted
Sir Everard for herself."

"Hold your tongue, Susan!" angrily cried Edwards. "You daren't call
your soul your own if Miss Silver was listening. Bear a hand here, you
fellers, and help me fetch Sir Heverard to the house."

They bore the insensible man to the house, to his room, where Edwards
applied himself to his recovery. Sybilla aided him silently,
skillfully. Meantime, the two gigantic footmen were galloping like mad
to the village to rouse the stagnant authorities with their awful news.
And the servants remained huddled together, whispering in affright;
then, in a body, proceeded to search the house from attic to cellar.

"My lady may be somewhere in the house," somebody had suggested. "Who
knows? Let us try."

So they tried, and utterly failed, of course.

Morning came at last. Dull and dreary it came, drenched in rain, the
wind wailing desolately over the dark, complaining sea. All was
confusion, not only at the Court, but throughout the whole village.
The terrible news had flown like wild-fire, electrifying all. My lady
was murdered! Who had done the deed?

Very early in the wet and dismal morning, Miss Silver, braving the
elements, wended her way to the Blue Bell Inn.

Where was Mr. Parmalee? Gone, the landlady said, and gone for good,
nobody knew where.

Sybilla stood and stared at her incredulously. Gone, and without a
word to her--gone without seeing the murdered woman! What did it mean?

"Are you sure he has really gone?" she asked. "And how did he go?"

"Sure as sure!" was the landlady's response; "which he paid his bill to
the last farthing, like a gentleman. And as for how he went, I am sure
I can't say, not being took in his confidence; but the elderly party,
she went with him, and it was late last evening."

Miss Silver was nonplused, perplexed, bewildered, and very anxious.
What did Mr. Parmalee mean? Where had he gone? He might spoil all
yet. She had come to see him, and accuse him of the murder--to
frighten him, and make him fly the village. Circumstances were
strongly against him--his knowledge of her secret; his nocturnal
appointment; her disappearance. Sybilla did not doubt but that he
would consider discretion the better part of valor, and fly.

She went back to the house, intensely perpl