Beatrice did not remain long with Orchard, after she had learned how Maud Paslow became possessed of the Obi necklace. She was convinced that the old shepherd was speaking the truth, as he did not appear to have sufficient brains to be inventive, and, moreover, was rapidly growing senile. But on her way down to the Weald she thought it strange that the necklace should have been discovered by the man, round the neck of a sheep. Who had placed the gems there? and why had they been attached to the animal? An attempt to solve this problem lasted Beatrice all the way to The Camp.

It was now nearly ten o'clock, but Beatrice was too excited to think about breakfast. She found the great gates of The Camp wide open, and indeed since Alpenny's death they had been rarely closed. The gardens looked as beautiful as ever, but the railway carriages appeared a little deserted and forlorn. Beatrice walked at once towards the kitchen carriage, where she hoped to find Durban preparing his morning meal. He certainly was there, and with him was a red-headed, dirty little man in whom she recognised Waterloo.

"Oh!" said Beatrice, recoiling from the door, for the mere sight of that evil face made her sick.

"Blimme!" cried Waterloo, turning his rat-like eyes on her, "if it ain't old Alpenny's gal!"

"Hold your tongue," said Durban in a low, fierce voice.--"What is it, missy?"

"I have come to ask you for some breakfast," said Beatrice, retreating still further, so as to get away from Waterloo, "and to have a chat."

"We'll all have a jaw," cried Waterloo enthusiastically; "we're all pals in the same boat."

"What does this horrible creature mean?" asked Beatrice, looking appealingly at her old servant.

"'Orrible critture!" yelped Waterloo. "Well, I likes that, I does. Oh yuss, not at all, by no means. Why, me an' your par were old pals."

"Are you talking of Colonel Hall or of Mr. Alpenny?" asked Beatrice, taking a sudden step towards the man.

The result of her remark and action surprised her not a little, and indeed seemed to surprise Durban also. "Colonel 'All!" muttered Waterloo, and his red hair rose on end over a rapidly paling face. "Oh! my stars, if you knows about him, it's time fur me to cut my lucky."

"You know something?" cried Beatrice.

"I know as old Alpenny murdered--murdered---- Here!" cried Waterloo, with a snarl, "you lemme out!" and before Beatrice could stop him--she was blocking the doorway--he had darted under her arm, and was running noiselessly out of The Camp. Apparently he was frightened out of his wits. Yet the girl wondered that so bold a thief, and a man accustomed to being in tight places, should be seized by so sudden an access of genuine terror.

"What does it mean?" she asked Durban, but making no attempt to follow the man.

"I know no more than you do, missy."

"Durban," said Beatrice, entering the kitchen and taking a seat, "you have kept me in the dark long enough. You ran away just as this man has done, when I asked you about the Obi necklace. Now you must speak out, as I am leaving Hurstable."

"Leaving this place, missy?" said Durban, startled. "Are you not to marry Mr. Paslow?"

"How can I marry him when he has a wife living?"

Durban did not seem to be so surprised at this news as she expected. "So you have found that out, missy?" he said slowly.

"You knew about it?"

"Yes, I knew; but I thought--I thought that she was dead."

"No. She pretended to die, for her own purposes. In fact she intended, in that way, to get rid of Vivian, and marry an American millionaire. But she is alive,--her double was buried."

"Miss Arthur!" cried the servant quickly.

"You know that also?"

"I know everything. But I thought that Mrs. Paslow was dead, and so I wanted you to marry Mr. Paslow and be happy."

"Durban," said the girl quietly, "the discovery of this, which you should have told me, alters the position of myself and Mr. Paslow. I can no longer remain at Convent Grange. To-morrow I go up to town to see Lady Watson."

Durban's face took on its greenish pallor. He made one stride forward and spoke to Beatrice with dry lips. "You must not; you dare not. Do not go, missy."

"Take your hand from my arm, Durban," said Beatrice sharply; and when he did so she resumed in hard tones, "Why should I not go?"

"Oh! how can I tell you?" Durban clapped his hands together in a helpless sort of way, like a great child. "She is bad: she will do you harm. She has got Alpenny's money, which ought to be yours. For all I know, she may have the Obi necklace also. I hope she has, for its possession will bring her the worst of luck."

"She has not got the necklace, Durban. Mrs. Paslow has it. Yes, you may well look surprised, Durban. Mr. Paslow and myself saw it on her neck last night, when she came to see him and prevent our marriage."

"How could she have got it?" murmured Durban, but more to himself than to his mistress.

"She obtained it from her father."

"Old Orchard the butler?"

"Old Orchard the shepherd. I saw him this morning. He recognised the necklace as having belonged to my father--to Colonel Hall; it seems the setting is peculiar."

"But how did it come into his possession, missy?"

"He found it on the neck of a sheep."

Durban did not look at all surprised. "I thought he would," was his strange reply.

"You thought he would what?"

"I thought he would find it there."

"Durban, did you know it was on a sheep's neck?"

"Yes. I--well, missy, I may as well make a clean breast of it--I placed it on the sheep's neck myself."

"You? And where did you get it?"

"Come with me, missy, and I'll show you."

In silent amazement Beatrice followed the stout man out of the kitchen. He led the way across the lawn to the counting-house, and opened the door with a key which he took from the pocket of his white suit. She beheld the counting-house in exactly the same state as she had seen it when Alpenny had insisted on the marriage with Major Ruck. But much water had flowed under Westminster Bridge since that time, which now seemed so far away.

"Missy," said Durban, pointing to the seat in front of the mahogany desk, "sit down and let us talk. I have much to tell you, for the time has come when you must know what I know."

"Why have you kept information from me all this time?" said Beatrice, sitting down, while Durban stood at the door, his bulky form blocking up all exit.

"Why? Missy, I ask you, would it have been right for me, who love you, to overshadow your young life by telling you of the murder of your father, of the rascality of Alpenny, and of the terrible position in which Mr. Paslow was placed?" Durban spoke vehemently, and with the very greatest earnestness.

"I am not a child," said Beatrice. "I should have been told."

"You were a child for a long time, and I loved you," said Durban with exquisite sadness. "I wished to keep you in ignorance of the evil that surrounded you. I wished you to marry Mr. Paslow, and go away, never to learn what the evil was. But, I knew--for I learned it from Major Ruck, who wished to marry you and get the Obi necklace--that Mr. Paslow had married Maud Orchard (or Maud Carr, as she calls herself in town). When she died--or pretended to die--I thought that all would be well, and so kept silence. But you were determined to search out these matters for yourself. I placed no bar in the way of your doing so, as I thought that perhaps you were the chosen instrument to put all right. Since, unaided, you have found out so much, I think you are that instrument, so I am now going to make much plain, which has hitherto puzzled you."

Beatrice crossed her feet and hands. "I shall be glad to hear what you have to say," she said coldly.

"Ah, missy, do not be angry," said Durban caressingly; "it was love that made me keep you in the dark."

He was so genuinely moved that a large tear rolled down his dark face, and a profound emotion stirred him to the depths of his being. Beatrice was annoyed at the way in which she had been............