through the cellars. Ah, I thought
so!" (As her face changed.) "Trusted as you were, a burglary in the
night was easy as falling off a log--and all that binding and gagging
business. The trouble was to get the stolen things out of the
country--let's say to Australia, where Barlow's nephews could count upon
a receiver, or a buyer, maybe some old associate of their pre-prison
days. Among you all, you hit on quite a clever plan. Only a dear, kind
creature like you, respected by everyone, could have hypnotized even old
Doctor Pyne into believing Barlow was dead--no matter _what_ strong drug
you used! You wouldn't let any one come near the body afterward. You
loved your husband so much you would do everything for him yourself--in
death as in life. How pathetic--how estimable! And then you and the two
'boys' brought the coffin here, to have it buried in the old cemetery,
with generations of other respectable Barlows. The night after the
funeral the twins dug it up, as neatly as they dug trenches in France,
and left the case underground as a precaution. Perhaps Barlow's 'ghost'
watched the work. But that's of no importance. What was of importance
was the next step. They took the coffin to a nice convenient cave
(that's what made this house worth buying back, isn't it?) and tethered
the thing there to wait an appointed hour. At that hour a boat would
quietly appear, and bear it away to a smart little sailing ship.
Then--ho! for Australia or some place where heirlooms from this country
can be disposed of without talk or trouble. I would bet that Barlow is
on that ship now, and you meant to join him, instead of waiting for a
better world. But there came the storm, and a record wave or two ran
into the cave. Alas for the schemes of mice and men--and Barlow's!"

Not once did she interrupt. I doubt if the woman could have uttered a
word had she dared; for the game of Bluff was new to her. She believed
that by sleuth-hound cunning I had tracked her down, following each move
from the first, and biding my time to strike until all proofs (the
coffin and its contents) were within my grasp. By the time I had paused
for lack of breath, the old face was sickly white, like candle-grease,
and the remembrance of affection was so keen that I could not help
pitying the creature. "You realize," I said, "everything is known. Not
only do _I_ know, but others. And we have all the stolen things in our
possession. I've come here to offer you a chance o