would all be arrested for murder."
"Then the reason they left Hayes's Farm so suddenly was because theywere in fear of you?"
"Exactly. Marie Lejeune was equally afraid of me, and escaped withthem--abroad, it seems."
I related how the doctor, Pink, had been called to the girl, and of theinvestigations he and I made afterwards, whereupon he said, smiling--
"Yes, I know. I remained in the vicinity, and watched you both ride upto the house that afternoon."
"And now you have told me so much, Mr Keene," I said. "Have you notheory regarding the murder of Hugh Wingfield?"
"Ah! That's quite another matter," he said as a strange expressioncrossed his bearded features. "That's a question which it is best forus not to discuss."
"Why?"
"Because I can say nothing."
"But you have a theory?"
"It may not be the right one," he answered in a hard, strained voice.
"At least you know who the man was?" I said. "You have alreadymentioned his name."
"Can you tell me why he, a perfect stranger, wore upon his finger theportrait of Lady Lolita?" I asked.
"For the same reason, I suppose, that a woman wears in a locket aportrait of a man."
"You imply that he was Lolita's lover?"
"I imply nothing," he said vaguely. "I make no statement at all. Ihave indeed told you that the matter is one which it is wiser not todiscuss."
"But can't you see how, in my position, that terrible affair is ofgreatest moment to my happiness and peace of mind?" I pointed out."Who was he? What brought him to the park on that night?"
"I don't know."
"Lolita went forth to meet him, that I know," I said.
"Yes," he remarked. "That was proved by the marks of her heels at thespot where the body was found. She must therefore have met him."
"If so, then she must know the truth, Mr Keene," I said in a hardvoice, watching his dark face. "What I want to discover is the reasonhe came here in secret that night."
He paused a moment his eyes fixed upon me, as though he were debatingwithin himself whether he should betray my love's secret. Then atlength he said--
"You mentioned, I think, to Lady Lolita that you had secured from thedead man's pocket a scrap of paper bearing a message in cipher--did younot?"
"Yes," I exclaimed eagerly. "It is the checker-board cipher, I know,but I am unable to read it because I am ignorant of the keyword."
"If you really desire to decipher it, and think it will help you to aknowledge of the real facts, why not try the single and very unusualword--her own name!"
"Lolita!" I gasped quickly in eagerness. "Then the keyword is Lolita!"
To which he made no response, but nodded gravely in the affirmative.
Then, without further ado, I rushed back to my room took out the foldedscrap of paper that had brought Hugh Wingfield to his doom, and spreadit before me together with the checker-board.
In a quarter of an hour I had reduced the numerals to letters,subtracted my love's name, and deciphered it--yes, the fatal messagestood revealed.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
WESTON EXPRESSES CERTAIN FEARS.
On reference to the checker-board which my friend had sent me, I foundthat the word "Lolita" read 31. 34. 31. 24. 44. 11.
These numbers I began to subtract from the first six numbers of thesecret message, but the letters represented by the remaining numberswere a mere unintelligible jumble. At last, however, after considerablethought, I tried taking the numbers down the columns:--namely 63. 49.46. 68. Subtracted by the keyword there remained 32. 15. 15. 44., whichI found on reference to my checker-board was the word "meet."
At last the secret was mine! Very soon I had deciphered the numeralsinto this message:--
"_Meet me in the avenue on Monday. Fear nothing. Marie betrayed topolice_.--Lol."
Lolita herself had therefore enticed the unfortunate young man to hisdoom.
The very signature "Lol," combined with the fact of the portrait in thering, confirmed my suspicion that there was affection between them.
I paced the room still utterly mystified.
At four o'clock I heard the horn of the motor in the avenue, and rushedforth to meet my love. She descended in dust-cloak and veil, and tookmy hand in silent greeting, but Keene, who was also at the door,whispered to her, and she walked away with him. I knew that he wastelling her of all that had happened to me--and of the real reason ofMarigold's absence.
She went to her room, and though I waited for an hour or more, she didnot descend.
I sent a message up to Weston, and the reply was--
"Her ladyship has a very bad headache after the dust."
This I told Keene, who shrugged his shoulders.
At tea in the hall, where the guests were nearly all assembled--as gayand well-dressed a crowd as could be found in all England--the Countessapproached me quite calmly, and said in a loud voice--
"George has just said that you've hurt your head, Mr Woodhouse. I'm sovery sorry. How did you manage it?"
The woman's imperturbable daring was simply marvellous. Her questiontook me utterly aback.
"I--well, I slipped in the street, and fell," I stammered. "I gave myskull a nasty knock. I suppose it would have been fractured if I hadnot had such a thick head," I laughed, endeavouring to turn theconversation into a joke.
"Ah! You're inviting compliments now!" exclaimed the brilliantvivacious woman, whom surely none would suspect of associating withthose two men of the type of Belotto and Ostini.
"Any compliment from your ladyship is a compliment indeed," I declared,bowing with mock gravity, whereupon the party laughed, and I saw thatshe bit her lips in vexation. She knew that I was her enemy; and yetshe dare not openly quarrel.
She feared lest I might announce to her husband and her guests her visitto Milan, and its tragic sequel.
Keene stood by, stroking his beard in wonder, half-fearing that shemight burst forth in fury at my sneer and dreading the result of hotwords between us.
Fortunately, however, she was discreet and laughed it off, while theEarl remarked as he passed Lady Maud her cup--
"I like to hear Willoughby and Marigold quarrel. They slang each otherso very gracefully. Willoughby, you'd make a splendid ambassador.You're so very diplomatic."
"I'm a good liar, if that's any qualification," I laughed openly."Somebody has said that the two essentials for success as an ambassadorare to have a lie ever ready on the lips, and a good coloured ribbon andcross at the throat."
"Ah! and that's pretty near the mark too," observed Lord Cotterstock,who had himself been in the diplomatic service. "It is said of LordBarmouth that when he was Ambassador at the Porte, he, for a joke, worethe Blue Ribbon, and the Turkish Court thought it the highest of Britishdistinctions. He told the unspeakable ones that it was the Order ofSaint Schweppe!"
Whereupon there was a general laugh.
Tea concluded, and the guests dispersed. I was surprised at thenon-appearance of my beloved, for I longed to speak with her alone--tolearn what had occurred during my enforced absence.
Keene accompanied the Earl and some others across to the kennels aftertea, but by no amount of manoeuvring could I obtain an interview withthe Countess alone. She walked in the garden with old Lady Cotterstock,in order that I should have no chance of speaking with her.
The house-party assembled in the white drawing-room prior to dinner, yetLolita did not put in an appearance. I therefore sent one of theunder-servants for the faithful Weston, who came to me at the top of thegrand staircase.
"Her ladyship has a very bad headache, sir. She's been lying down. Butshe's now in her boudoir writing, and has told me that I am not todisturb her this evening."
"But isn't she going to dine?" I inquired in surprise.
"She hasn't dressed, sir. She said she, had no appetite."
"She's not well, I believe, Weston," I said.
"No, sir," repl
ied the maid anxiously. "I've noticed this last week ortwo a very great change in her. She seems highly nervous, and whenalone always thinking very deeply, and--and--"
"And what?" I asked, seeing the excellent servant's hesitation.
"Well, sir, I don't know whether I really ought to mention it, but onething worries me very much. You know, sir, I've been her ladyship'smaid ever since she came back from school, and I'm much attached toher."
"I know, Weston. I know quite well," I said. "You are most devoted toher. But what is this you fear?"
"I really don't know, sir,"
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