should like to hazard the guess that he is the man who has
held you in such thraldom for years."

"And if he were?" said she.

"I could understand William's antipathy to him and also his suspicions."

She gave me a strange look, then without answering walked over and took
Loreen by the hand. "Hush!" I thought I heard her whisper. At all events
the two sisters were silent for more than a moment. Then Lucetta said:

"Deacon Spear is well off, but nothing will ever make me accuse living
man of crime so dreadful." And she walked away, drawing Loreen after
her. In another moment she was out of the room, leaving me in a state of
great excitement.

"This girl holds the secret to the whole situation," I inwardly decided.
"The belief that nothing more can be learned from her is a false one. I
must see Mr. Gryce. William's rodomontades are so much empty air, but
Lucetta's silence has a meaning we cannot afford to ignore."

So impressed was I by this, that I took the first opportunity which
presented itself of seeing the detective. This was early the next
morning. He and several of the townspeople had made their appearance at
Mother Jane's cottage, with spades and picks, and the sight had
naturally drawn us all down to the gate, where we stood watching
operations in a silence which would have been considered unnatural by
any one who did not realize the conflicting nature of the emotions
underlying it. William, to whom the death of his mother seemed to be a
great deliverance, had been inclined to be more or less jocular, but his
sallies meeting with no response, he had sauntered away to have it out
with his dogs, leaving me alone with the two girls and Hannah.

The latter seemed to be absorbed entirely by the aspect of Mother Jane,
who stood upon her doorstep in an attitude so menacing that it was
little short of tragic. Her hood, for the first time in the memory of
those present, had fallen away from her head, revealing a wealth of gray
hair which flew away from her head like a weird halo. Her features we
could not distinguish, but the emotion which inspired her, breathed in
every gesture of her uplifted arms and swaying body. It was wrath
personified, and yet an unreasoning wrath. One could see she was as much
dazed as outraged. Her lares and penates were being attacked, and she
had come from the heart of her solitude to defend them.

"I declare!" Hannah protested. "It is pitiful. She has nothing in the
world but that ga