r was rather abnormal;
unlike her usual cold reserve there were signs of a certain suppressed
excitement.

"I hope," she said, "that Major Freeman and his people are satisfied with
our discovery that the marks on Muriel's dress and mine came there by
accident."

"Evidently quite convinced," Gifford answered.

"That's well," she responded with a rather forced laugh. "It was
rather too bad to suspect us, on that evidence, of knowing anything
about the affair."

"I don't suppose for a moment they did," Gifford assured her.

"I don't know," the girl returned. "Anyhow it was rather an embarrassing,
not to say painful, position for us to be in. But that is at an end now."

Nevertheless Gifford could tell that she was not so thoroughly relieved
as her words implied.

"Completely," he declared. "You have heard of the new piece of evidence?"
he added casually.

For a moment she stopped with a start, instantly recovering herself.
"No; what is that?" in a tone almost of unconcern.

Gifford told her of the statement made by the country girl and its
corroboration in the finding of the rope. As he continued he felt sure
that the story was gripping his companion more and more closely. At last
she stopped dead and turned to him with eyes which had in them intense
mystification as well as fear.

"Mr. Gifford, do you believe that story?"

"I see no reason for disbelieving it," he answered quietly. "It is
practically the only conceivable solution of the mystery of the
locked door."

"Surely--" she stopped, checking the vehement objection that rose to her
lips. "This girl," she went on as though searching for a plausible
argument, "is it not likely that she was mistaken? We know what these
country people are. And she could not have seen very clearly."

"But," Gifford argued gently, "her statement is confirmed by the finding
of the rope."

Edith Morriston was thinking strenuously, desperately, he could see
that. The words she spoke were but mechanical, the mere froth of a
seething brain. Yet her splendid self-command--and he recognized it with
admiration--never deserted her, however supreme the struggle may have
been to retain it.

A seat was by them; she went across the path to it and sat down. Gifford
saw that she was deadly pale.

"I fear this wretched business is upsetting you, Miss Morriston," he said
gently. "Let me run to the house and fetch something to revive you."

She made a gesture to stay him, and by an e