we shall never get at the truth," retorted Tansley. "We may--only
may, mind you!--have got a bit towards it this morning, but not far. If
at all--perhaps!"

"That threatening letter?" suggested Brent.

"I attach very little importance to it," said Tansley, "though I wasn't
going to say so much in court. In my experience in this town, if I've
seen one anonymous letter I've seen a hundred. Hathelsborough folk are
given to that sort of thing. No, sir--there's a tremendous lot to come
out yet. Don't you be surprised if all sorts of extraordinary
developments materialize--perhaps when you're least expecting 'em!"

Brent made no answer. He was not easily surprised, and from the moment
of his discovery of the crime he had realized that this was a mystery in
the unravelling of which time and trouble would have to be expended
freely. But he had a moment of genuine surprise that evening, when, as
he sat in his private sitting-room at the _Chancellor_, he received a
note, written in a delicate feminine hand on crested and scented paper,
wherein he was requested, in somewhat guarded and mysterious fashion, to
step round to the private residence of Mrs. Saumarez.

CHAPTER VIII

MRS. SAUMAREZ

Brent, at that moment, was in a state of mind which made every fibre of
his being particularly sensitive to suspicions and speculative ideas--he
had no sooner slipped Mrs. Saumarez's note into his pocket than he began
to wonder why she had sent for him? Of course, it had something to do
with Wallingford's murder, but what? If Mrs. Saumarez knew anything, why
did she not speak at the inquest? She had been present all through the
proceedings. Brent had frequently turned his eyes on her; always he had
seen her in the same watchful, keen-eyed attitude, apparently deeply
absorbed in the evidence, and, it seemed to him, showing signs of a
certain amount of anxiety. Anxiety--yes, that was it, anxiety. The other
spectators were curious, morbidly curious, most of them, but Mrs.
Saumarez he felt sure was anxious. And about what? He wondered, but
wondering was no good. He must go and see her of course; and presently
he made himself ready and set out. But as he crossed the hall of the
hotel he encountered Tansley, who was just emerging from the
smoking-room. A thought occurred to him, and he motioned Tansley back
into the room he had just quitted, and led him to a quiet corner.

"I say," said Brent, "between ourselves, I've just had a note f