Kalmat handed a copy of his telegram to Lord St. Barnard, who read it.

"You think I have been rash?"

"No," said his lordship. "I reserve my opinion; I am in your hands. Command; I obey."

A few hours afterwards Lord St. Barnard and Kalmat were travelling from Folkestone to London. They read in the evening papers the conclusion of the inquest.

A witness was called, who described a gentleman like Lord St. Barnard being rowed from Erith Pier to the landing place at the Cuttle Fish at about nine o'clock. The witness said two of the crew of the Fairy were waiting off Longreach at the same time, and the gentleman said they would take him up on his return.

Another witness stated that he drove a gentleman in that direction on the land side of Longreach to within a mile of the Cuttle Fish; and while this witness was giving his evidence the gentleman in question entered the room, and explained that he was a coal dealer, and expected a barge coming up the Thames that night, and as two of his vessels had been robbed lately, while moored off the Reach, he was there to look after them himself.

The porter at Piccadilly corroborated Cuffing's statement as to the treatment he had received in Ransford's chamber.

Mr. Cuffing produced the copy of Ransford's confession, which was printed in full. The reading of it created great sensation in the coroner's little court.

At this stage of the inquiry Lord St. Barnard's telegram arrived. The coroner pointed out that the telegram was not evidence, and it might be well to adjourn with a view to Lord St. Barnard being pre

sent.

The foreman consulted with his colleagues, and said they were of opinion that no more evidence was necessary to enable them to arrive at a verdict.

The coroner then repeated the leading points of the evidence, and dwelt upon them at much length. He arrived at this conclusion: that while the evidence strongly favoured the assumption of suicide, it was not thought to be strong enough absolutely to convince them that the man had killed himself.

The jury returned a verdict that the deceased shot himself while labouring under a fit of remorse or temporary insanity.

When Lord St. Barnard had digested the report, they looked inquiringly at each other.

"How did you go to the Cuttle Fish ?" asked his lordship.

"I twice visited the hotel at Erith; but I left there early on the day in question, first by cab, with my luggage, to the station; and then by train to London. In the afternoon I took a steamer to a station beyond Woolwich; then a boat to the Fairy; in the evening the Fairy's boat landed me a mile below Longreach, and I walked to the Cuttle Fish, timing myself almost to the minute. If it were not for Cuffing's narrative, which it would be a mistake to disturb, and the undesirability of further complications so far as you are concerned, I would rather have told my own story and—but it is best as it is."

In due time Kalmat and Lord St. Barnard were once more at the Westminster Palace Hotel. Mr. White, the detective, had called just as they entered. He was greatly surprised to meet Lord St. Barnard, but did not show his astonishment-he was too clever for that. The people at the hotel had already informed Mr. White that his lordship was on the Continent, and neither they nor he had yet read the evening papers containing the report of the second day's proceedings at the Cuttle Fish. White had been quite baffled in his inquiries after Lady St. Barnard, and had called at the hotel to learn what he could about his lordship's movements.

Seen the evening papers, of course ?" said Lord St. Barnard. "No, my lord," said Mr. White, who knew when it was well to make admissions and when not.

"Indeed. Take a seat, then, and read, while my friend and myself dress."

Mr. White read and silently cursed himself for not having read the paper on his own account; but the truth was he had been very busy in working a wrong scent for many hours, and the occupation absorbed him thoroughly.

He was a retired officer of Scotland Yard, Mr. White, who did business on his own account, and was generally regarded as an eminently successful man in his profession; and in his own mind he resented Lord St. Barnard's discovery of his wife unaided. He was troubled as to the way in which he should make up for his mistake. The presence at the Westminster of the mysterious spectator at Bow Street puzzled him. Was this gentleman a rival detective? He did not see that Kalmat had entered the room, and was contemplating him curiously.

"Ten pounds for your thoughts, Mr. White."

Agreed," said the detective; "I would have sold them cheaper." Kalmat laid a note in White's open hand.

"I was wondering who you might be; I know now you are not what I thought you was."

Kalmat looked inquiringly for further explanation. "Not a detective," said White.

"Professionally, no," said Kalmat.

"I saw you at Bow Street, and had my eye on you continually." "Yes, I remember," said Kalmat. "Lord St. Barnard says I may trust you."

"The late Earl trusted me, when I was at Scotland Yard, and after; the present Earl has been liberality itself," said Mr. White. "I am not without means," said Kalmat; "am, perhaps, as rich as the Earl himself."

The ferret-like eyes of Mr. White sparkled.

"I am going to trust you with my secret, and then we must work together just to wind up this business: I am Tom Mayfield!"

Mr. White was an elderly man, but full of activity. He jumped from his seat, whistled a long whistle, and then executed an excited walk round. Tom looked on patiently. When Mr. White had sufficiently relieved himself from the shock of Kalmat's announcement he said with calm deliberation,

"Then I know your secret."

"Yes; that is my secret."

"You have another, sir," said Mr. White.

"Well ?"

"May I be straight with you?"

"Certainly."

"You shot that brute Ransford.”

Kalmat received the blow with perfect calmness, though it staggered him considerably.

"Yes," he said.

"It was a duel?"

"It would have been if he had not tried to assassinate me after refusing to fight."

"Popped at you unawares ?"

"Yes."

"And then you peppered him. I honour you, sir. Let us shake hands. I saw you hated him like poison."

"Mr. White, you are a shrewd and clever man.

Talking of poison, there is a tooth in the serpent-jaw of this Mr. Cuffing which we must extract."

"By all means."

"Lord St. Barnard places himself in our hands; he says he would trust you with his life."

"He is very good, and I would lay down my life for his lordship if required to do so."

"It does not suit us to correct the misstatements of Cuffing; and

it does not suit us to let him have power over us-to leave him the opportunity some day of making his own corrections."

"Right."

"We are quite willing to place him above temptation."

"You'll pay him the ten thousand?”

"Yes; but we want a guarantee, as nations say to each other." "Want a hold on him?"

"Yes."

"I've got it; been off and on devoting myself to that. He's a forger and a thief. Do you remember a trial called the Higgleton will case?"

"I do not."

"It came to nothing for want of evidence; there was a will, produced by Cuffing, a year after search for a will had been made without success. Higgleton was a cousin of Cuffing's; but while the trial was going on a second and later will was found, dated only a day after Cuffing's, and it was the genuine will. It was called 'The Higgleton Romance.' They gave fuli reports in all the papers. Well, a pal of mine had it in hand, but as the right people came in for the property they didn't care about going on with any prosecution of Cuffing, suspected of forging the first will, and it dropped through; but my pal has given me all the facts and documents, and the witnesses are living and can be got at any time. Isn't that a hold on him?”

"Good enough, as they say in America."

"Well, as confessions and such like are the order of the day, he shall confess and swear an affidavit about his being confederate with Ransford if you like. You shall handle him how you please, and have his tooth out straight; and the best way will be to make me and the youngest partner in his lordship's solicitors' firm trustees to a settlement upon him to be paid regularly according to his good behaviour."

"Excellent; can we find him to-night?"

"Yes; he's moved-did it cleverly, I believe-but I know his new place. Shall we go at once?"

"Where do you propose to go at once?" asked Lord St. Barnard. "We wish to call together on Mr. Simon Cuffing," said Kalmat. "We shall return soon."

Lord St. Barnard shook Kalmat's hand. Mr. White took off his hat; and Lord St. Barnard sat down to write a long and loving letter to his wife.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ADJOURNMENT.

AT Bow Street on Monday morning Mr. Holland, Q.C., made an eloquent speech, travelling over the leading features of the extraordinary case in which Lord St. Barnard, with the courage of an English nobleman and the earnestness of a good cause, had entered upon the prosecution of Philip Ransford, whose confession and death had brought the story of Lady Barnard's persecution to an end so far as this Court was concerned. Mr. Holland was glad to observe that the newspapers in discussing the case that day had all expressed the deepest sympathy with Lord St. Barnard and the warmest admiration for his wife, whom they could not sufficiently praise for her fortitude, or pity enough on account of the final breakdown of her physical strength under the weight of calumnies that might have overcome even Spartan fortitude. The Court would be glad to hear that the woman who attended Lady St. Barnard at Piccadilly during the night referred to in her ladyship's evidence was in court; and that other witnesses, if they had been required, were ready to come forward to substantiate the perfect innocence of his client, apart from the prisoner's confession. All this was now rendered unnecessary; and it gave him great pleasure to inform the Bench that Lady St. Barnard was progressing favourably. She had safely passed through the delirious stages of brain fever, and it was a source of much happiness for Lord St. Barnard that one of the first inquiries this morning as to the state of her ladyship's health came from Her Most Gracious Majesty, with a special message to his lordship. (Loud applause.)

Mr. Cuffing in a new coat, with a necktie embellishing a perfectly white collar, rose, and in solemn tones expressed his deep regret that it should ever have fallen to his professional lot to be engaged in a case that must have wounded so severely the nicest and most delicate sensibilities of a highly wrought and noble nature such as that of Lady St. Barnard. He need not remind Mr. Holland and his Worship on the bench that an advocate had only to consider the interests of his client. It was his duty to lay aside all private feeling; but it was not his duty, if he knew it, to be a party to a wrong to be, as it were, confederate with his client to perpetrate an injustice; and the moment he was made acquainted with the falsity of the charges made by his client, that moment he demanded restitution and atonement for the persecuted lady. In arranging this,