still held.

"If you mean about the death--"

"Yes; Aunt Selina has been murdered. I called to see her this morning,
and found the house in the possession of the police. All day I have
been down there with Mallow."

"With Cuthbert," said Juliet, starting and growing red. "What was he
doing there?"

"He came down to Rexton to see about the unfinished house. Lord Caranby
has returned to England, and he has thoughts of pulling it down.
Mallow came to have a look at the place."

"But he can't get in. There is a wall round the grounds."

"He climbed over the wall," said Basil, quickly, "and after looking
through the house he came out. Then he saw me, and I told him what had
happened. He appeared dreadfully shocked."

Juliet shivered in spite of the heat of the day and the fire, near
which she was seated. "It is strange he should have been there."

Her brother threw a keen glance at her. "I don't see that!" he
exclaimed. "He gave his reason for being in the neighborhood. He came
up with me, and is coming on here in a few moments. This is why he did
not turn up this afternoon."

Juliet nodded and appeared satisfied with this explanation. But she
kept her eyes on her brother when he entered into details about the
crime. Her emotions during the recital betrayed themselves markedly.

"I saw the detective," said Basil, with quicker speech than usual. "He
is a first-rate chap called Jennings, and when he heard I was Miss
Loach's nephew he didn't mind speaking freely."

"What did you learn?" asked Mr. Octagon.

"Enough to make the mystery surrounding the death deeper than ever."

"What do you mean?" asked his sister, restlessly. "Can't the murderer
be found?"

"Not a trace of him can be discovered."

"Why do you say 'him.' It might have been a woman."

"No," rejoined Basil positively, "no woman could have struck so hard a
blow. Aunt Selina was stabbed to the heart. She must have been killed
as she was rising from her chair, and death, so the doctor says, must
have been instantaneous."

"Has the weapon been found?" asked Juliet in a low voice.

Basil turned quickly in his chair, and looked at her sharply. "No!" he
said, "not a sign of any weapon can be found, nor can it be discovered
how anyone got into the house. Though to be sure, she might have
admitted her visitor."

"Explain! explain," cried Mr. Octagon, ruffling his hair.

"Well, to tell the story in detail," said his step-son, "the wa