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'f 't 1 ^ *î' *î' The Woman In the Alcove. By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN, Author of 'The Mllllonalro Suir," 'The Ftllfrec Ball,'' "The Hook la the Mist," "The Amethyet Boa," Etc. Copyright, 1906, The Bobbs-Merrill Co. **** **< CHAPTER X. Œ WAS not tbe only one to tremble now. This man of Infinite ex perience and daily contact with crime had turned as pale as •ever I myself had done in face of a Jthreatening calamity. "I shall see about this," he muttered, crumpling the paper in his hand. "But •this la a very terrible business you are iplunglng me into. 1 sincerely hope itbat you are not heedlessly misleading me." "I am correct in my facts, if that is what you mean," said I. "The stiletto da an English heirloom and bears on tits blade, among other devices, that of Mr. Grey's family on the female side. But that Is not all I want to say. If the blow was struck to obtain the dia mond, the shock of not finding it on his victim must have been terrible. Now, iMr. Grey's heart. If my whole theory 1s not utterly false, was set upon ob taining this stone. Tour eye was not *on him as mine was when you made your appearance In the hall with the (recovered Jewel. He showed astonisb iment, eagerness and a determination (which finally led him forward as you 'know with the request to take the dia mond in his hand. Why did he want to take it in his hand? And why, hav ing taken it, did he drop it—a diamond supposed to be worth an ordinary man's fortune? Because he was star tled by a cry he chose to consider the (traditional one of his family proclaim ing death? Is it likely, sir? Is it con •oelvable even that any such cry as we ■eard could, in this day and genera tion, ring through such an assemblage, (Unless it came with ventriloquial power (from his own lips? You observed that Ibe turned his back; that his face was hidden from us. Discreet and reticent -as we h»ve all been and careful in our ■criticisms of so bigarre an evei-t, there still must be many to question the real lty of such superstitious fears and some to ask if such a sound could be without human agency and a very guilty agency too. Inspector, I am but a child in your estimation, and I fee) my position in this matter much more keenly than you do, but I would nol be true to tbe man whom I have un wittingly helped to place in his present unenviable position if I did not tell you ■that in my Judgment this cry was a spurious one, employed by the gentle man himself as an excuse for dropping the stone." "And why should he wish to drop the stone?" "Because of the fraud he meditated. Because It offered him an opportunity for substituting a false stone for th6 real. Did you not notice a change in tbe aspect of this Jewel dating from this very moment? Did it shine with as much brilliancy in your hand when you received it back as when you passed it over?" "Nonsense! I do not know; it is all too absurd for argument." Yet he did atop to argue, saying in the next breath: "You forget that the stone hap a setting. Would you claim that this gentleman of family, place and polit leal distinction had planned this hide ons crime with sufficient premeditation to have provided himself with the ex act counterpart of a brooch which it Is highly Improbable he ever saw? You would make him out a Cagllostro or something worse. Miss Van Ars dale, I fear your theory will topple over of its own weight." He was very patient with me; he did not show me tbe door. "Yet such a substitution took place, and took place that evening," I insist ed. "The bit of paste shown us at the Inquest was never the gem Mrs. Fairbrother wore on entering the al cove. Besides, where all is sensation, why cavil at one more Improbability? Mr. Grey may have come over to America for no other reason. He is 'known as a collecter, and when a man bas a passion for diamond getting"— "He is known as a collector?" "In his own country." "I was not told that." "Nor I. But I found it out." "How, my dear child, how?" "By a cablegram or so." "You—cabled—his name—to Eng 'land?" "No, inspector; uncle has a code, and Y made use of It to ask a frieud in Lon don for a list of the most noted dia Isnond fanciers In the country. Mr Grey's name was third on the list." He gave me a look in which admira tion was strangely blended with doubt and apprehension. "You are making a brave struggle." aald he, "but it is a hopeless one." "I have one more confidence to re pose in you. The nurse who has charge of Miss Grey was in my class in the hospital. We love each other, and tc her I dared appeal on one point. In spector"—here my voice unconsciously fell as he Impetuously drew nearer— "a note was sent from that sick chum (her on the night of the ball—a note sur reptitiously written hj Miss Grey while The nurse was in an adjoining room. The messenger was Mr. Grey's valet and its destination the house In which her father was enjoying his position as chief guest. She says that it wa9 meant for him, but I hare dared to think that the valet would tell a dif ferent story. My friend did not see what her patient wrote, hut she ac knowledged that If her patient wrote more than two words the result must a a have been an unTnteü'gTöre scrawl, since she was too weak to hold a pen cil firmly and so nearly blind that she would have had to feel her way over the paper." The inspector started and, rising hastily, went to his desk, from which he presently brought the scrap of paper which had already figured In the In quest as the mysterious communication taken from Mrs. Talrbrother's hand by the coroner. Pressing It out flat, he took another look at It, then glanced up In visible discomposure. "It has always looked to us as if written in the dark by an agitated hand, but"— I said nothing. The broken and un finished scrawl was sufficiently elo quent "Did your friend declare Miss Grey to have written with a pencil and on a small piece of unruled paper?" "Yes. The pencil was at her bed side. The paper was torn from a book which lay there. She did not put the note when written in an envelope, but gave it to the valet Just as It was. He is an old man and had come to her room for some final orders." "The nurse saw all this? Has she that book?" "No; it went out next morning with the scraps. It was some pamphlet, I believe." The Inspector turned the morsel ol paper over and over In his hand. "What Is this nurse's name?" "Henrietta Pierson." "Does she share your doubts?" "I cannot say." "You have seen her often?" "No, only the one time." "Is she discreet?" "Very. On this subject she will be like the grave unless forced by you to speak." "And Miss Grey?" "She Is still ill. too ill to be disturbed by questions, especially on so delicate a topic. But she Is getting well fast. Her father's fears as we heard them expressed on one memorable occasion were 111 founded, sir." Slowly the Inspector Inserted this scrap of paper between the folds of his pocketbook. He did not give me anoth er look, though I stood trembling be fore him. Was he in any way convinc ed or was he simply seeking for the most considerate way In which to dis miss me and my abominable theory? I could not gather his intentioi p from ills expression and was feeling very faint and heartsick when he suddenly turn ed upon me with the remark: "A girl as 111 as you say Miss Grey was must have had some very pressing matter on her mind to attempt to write and send a message under such difficul ties. According to your idea, she had some notion of her father's designs and wished to warn Mrs. Fairbrother against them. But don't you see that such conduct as this would be prepos terous. nay, unparalleled In persons of their distinction? You must find some other explanation for Miss Grey's seemingly mysterious action, and I an agent of crime other than one of Eng land's most reputable statesmen." • "So that Mr. Durand is shown the same consideration, I am content" said I. "It is the truth and the truth only I desire. I am willing to trust my cause with you." He looked none too grateful for this confidence. Indeed, now that I look back on this scene, I do not wonder that he shrank from the responsibility thus foisted upon him. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Prove something. Prove that I am altogether wrong or altogether right. Or If proof is not possible, pray allow me the privilege of doing what I can myself to clear up the matter." "You?" There was apprebenslou, disappro bation, almost menace in his tone. I bore it with as steady and modest a glance as possible, saying, when I thought he was about to speak again: "I will do nothing without your sanc tion. I realize the dangers of this In quiry and the disgrace that would fol low If our attempt was suspected be fore proof reached a point sufficient to Justify it. It is not an open attack I meditate, but one"— Here I whispered In his ear for sev eral minutes. When I had finished, he gave me a prolonged stare, then he laid his hand on my bead. "You are a little wonder," he de clared. "But your ideas are very quixotic, very. However," he added, suddenly growing grave, "something, I must admit, may be excused a young girl wbo finds herself forced to choose between the guilt of her lover and that of a man esteemed great by the world, but altogether removed from her and her natural sympathies." "You acknowledge, then, that It lies between these two?" "I see no third," said he. I drew a breath of relief. "Don't deceive yourself, Miss Van Arsdale. It is not among the possi bilities that Mr. Grey has had any con nection with this crime. He is an ec centric man, that's all." "But—but''— "I shall do my duty. I shall satisfy you und myself on certain points, and if"—I hardly breathed—"there is the least doubt, I will see you again and"— The change he saw in me frightened away the end of his sentence. Turn ing upon me with some severity, he de clared: "There are nine hundred and ninety-nine chances In a thousand that my next word to you will be to pre pare yourself for Mr. Durand's arraign ment and trial. But an infinitesimal chance remains to the contrary. If you choose to trust to it, I can only admire your pluck and the great confidence you show in your unfortunate lover." And with this half hearted encour agement I was forced to be content not only for that day, but for many days, when— (Continued on Page Seven.) FREE! FREE! 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