In this way Saxham was purged of one undesirable person. Herrick was pleased that he had acted with such promptitude. Bess would no longer be vexed by the odious attentions of the little scamp who had tormented her. Dr. Jim smiled to think how much of the jealous rival there was about his dealings with his quondam friend. He now recognised that Bess was the woman he desired for his wife. Nor did he think she would refuse to become Mrs. Herrick when he could give her a home worthy of her. Had she disliked his attentions, she would not have permitted even the strange hour's wooing, which was all they had of love, since Jim had found his heart. He laughed at the recollection.

"To talk of love between intervals of detective analysis," he thought as he walked back to Saxham, having sent on Napper's cart by the groom, "is a strange way of wooing one's wife, and the last kind I expected to indulge in. But Bess enjoyed it I fancy. I must recompense myself in a more leisurely way, when this business is at an end."

On arriving at Saxham, the doctor called in at the Carr Arms to see Don Manuel. He wanted to hear from the man himself if he had really given the pistol to Joyce, and if so how it had come into his possession. It might be that he had bought it in order to incriminate Robin--although at present Herrick could see no very good reason for such incrimination--on the other hand the pistol might be the veritable weapon used to shoot Carr. But that could be proved only by the test of the bullet, and he would have to wait until Bess saw Bridge about that. In some way Herrick felt convinced that Santiago was connected with the crime. He had known and hated Carr; he was far too intimate with Joyce for mere friendship, and he showed too great a desire to remain in the parish. That he should have in some way gained possession of the real pistol was not unlikely. "And it might be that he used it himself," said Dr. Jim as he entered the inn, "although I should think he would have used a more modern weapon for choice?"

"On speaking to Napper about the Mexican a shock awaited him. The landlord expressed the broadest surprise that Mr. Joyce had not told Dr. Herrick of Santiago's departure. The Mexican had gone to London by an early train. Herrick swore beneath his breath, feeling that he had been outwitted.

"When Mr. Joyce came back here this afternoon did he see Don Manuel?"

"Aye sir, that he did. The foreigner was waiting for him, and they talked for an hour. After that Don Manuel came down with his trunk--he had but one, doctor, and drove in to catch an earlier train."

"To Beorminster?" asked Herrick.

"No sir. To Heathcroft. He paid his bill alright though. But I was astonished Mr. Joyce left us so suddenly. There is nothing wrong I hope."

"By no means," replied Herrick with a carelessness he was far from feeling. "I believe Don Manuel had to go up on business, and asked Mr. Joyce to join him later."

"Will they be coming here again sir?" asked Napper, and on receiving a reply in the negative expressed his regret. "They didn't pay much, but they was sure," said the worthy landlord.

"Did you hear Se?or Santiago say _where_ he was going?" asked Herrick. But this the landlord could not tell him.

Dr. Jim walked away annoyed that he had been taken in. He felt that Robin had been tutored to play his part by the cleverer scoundrel. No doubt Robin had told the Mexican of his intrusion into the case, and Santiago had taken alarm. He knew well enough that Dr. Jim would recognise the pistol, and that he would force Robin to say where he had obtained it. Evidently Don Manuel thought it would be better for him to disappear than to face an examination. Yet he could have told Joyce to make up some story about the pistol so that he might not be brought into it. The whole business was part of the conspiracy. Don Manuel was in it, Robin also, and Herrick felt that the firm of Joyce and Santiago had been one too many for him.

All the same he remembered that he had set a watch on Joyce. If the scamp tried to hide, or went to any place to meet Manuel, he would be followed. "I shall go up to Town to-morrow," said Herrick on his way to 'The Pines.' "Wherever Joyce has gone, there Manuel will be. I shall run both to earth and learn what all this means by questioning them in each other's company. They won't trick me a second time! Well, I have done enough detective work for the day. I'll think of something else."

Stephen was now so far on the road to recovery, that he was able to leave his room. He had seen little of Jim lately, but he did not miss him, thanks to the constant attendance of Ida. Marsh-Carr was as devoted a friend as ever to Herrick, he still believed him the cleverest and best of men, but now his whole heart was filled with the image of Ida. The two were constantly together, and the girl had had no small share in nursing back her promised husband to health. The wound in the head had mended and the blow had left no effect behind it beyond an occasional head-ache.

Stephen never gave his assailant a thought. He quite forgot Carr's tragic death, and all the strange circumstances which had brought about his change of fortune. At times he even ceased to remember his step-mother, much as he had loved her. All his thoughts were for Ida, and with her he passed hours planning their future. They never talked of the past, and noticing this, Herrick forebore to tell his friend that he was still working to discover the murderer of Colonel Carr, and striving to baffle a possible conspiracy that had for its aim, the loss to Stephen not only of the Carr fortune, but possibly also of his life. Jim felt quite competent to deal with the matter himself, and did not think it necessary to spoil Marsh-Carr's love-making with such common-place things. Therefore he remained in ignorance of Herrick's doings.

"How late you are," said Stephen who was already dressed for dinner. "I have been anxiously expecting you this last hour!"

"I had to go into Beorminster," said Herrick carelessly. "Joyce has been called up to town and I went to see the last of him."

"I am glad he has gone," Stephen said gravely. "I don't like him. I think he is false. As for the Mexican---" he shrugged his shoulders.

Herrick, who was pouring himself a glass of sherry as an appetizer turned with a laugh. "The Mexican is a bad lot sure enough," he said. "As to Joyce he is more of a fool than a knave."

"I forgot that he was your friend."

"You do quite right to use the past tense Steve. He _was_ my friend, but he is so no longer." Herrick laughed again and sipped his sherry. "I have taken you for a change."

"You know well that I will never fail you," said Stephen warmly. "No. I suppose we shall remain good friends till you marry. Then you will forget me, and think only of your wife."

"You know better than that Jim. Besides Ida is fond of you."

"I know. I was fond of Ida too at one time--that was before she was engaged to you. But I have not played you false Steve."

"You are telling me old news," replied Marsh-Carr smiling. "I saw that you were in love with Ida."

"No. I was never in love. I thought I was, but my love was a snare and a delusion. But you thought so did you? Were you not jealous?"

"Not at all. I knew that Ida was mine, and I trusted her--you too."

"Wonderful man!" said Herrick looking into the fire. "Well you did right to trust us both. We are merely friends now. Indeed I know we never were anything else. I was blind; but she was not. However I am glad that you two are engaged. You will be happy."

"And when am I to congratulate you?"

"At this very minute if you like. Is it Bess you are talking of?"

Stephen sat up on the sofa looking astonished. "Yes," he said, "Ida saw that she was in love with you--"

"Ida is a clever woman. She prophesied my love would come suddenly. Bess has not yet formally consented to be my wife; but I think it will be all right."

"I am more than delighted. We shall be brothers-in-law. And you will always stay here Jim?"

"Living on you my dear fellow? No, I shall start practice again in Town, when I have got together sufficient money. Then when I am doing fairly well Bess shall come to me and supplement my income by writing novels in the intervals of looking after the house."

"Herrick you must not go away. You promised."

"Until you were married. But be of good cheer Steve, I won't leave you until everything is right." Dr. Jim said these last words with a significance which was lost on his listener.

"I thought that your friend Joyce--"

"Oh! he never had a chance. I was a fool to let him hang after Bess. However I found out to-day what she was to me, so it is all right now."

"Bess and Ida are coming over this evening with Frank."

"All the better. I can make my proposal in due form. By the way Steve I am going up Town to-morrow if you can spare me."

"Certainly. But it is not to make arrangements to leave me is it?"

"I should think not! I shall never go till you tell me Steve. No, I am going to see about some business of my own. Well I must dress. I hope you have a good dinner for me. I am very hungry."

"You think of nothing but eating," said Stephen with a laugh.

The dinner gave every satisfaction even to Herrick who was somewhat fastidious. But Ida had seen that a good cook was engaged, and the two men had nothing to complain of. Dinner over, Herrick supported Stephen into the library, and placed him on the sofa. Then he sat beside him and they smoked over their coffee and cognac. "But you must go to bed at half past ten," said Herrick sternly.

"What a tyrant you are Jim. Hark, there are the girls."

They came in looking charming, and in the best of spirits. It needed but a glance for Dr. Jim to see that Bess had said nothing about Joyce to her brother or sister. What a wise little woman she was! When Ida and Frank had seated themselves beside Stephen, Jim drew her into a remote corner of the room.

"You said nothing about our adventure of to-day," he whispered.

"No," she replied in the same tone, "I thought it best not to. And Mr. Joyce?"

"You will not be troubled with him again. He has gone to town. I do not think he will come back. Santiago has gone also."

"What about his threat against me?"

"That is alright. I have his confession in my pocket."

"Did he kill Colonel Carr?"

"No! I have not yet solved that problem. But do not let us talk of these unpleasant things any more Bess. To-morrow you shall know all. In the meantime make yourself agreeable to me and tell me how much you love me. Come now. After this afternoon you cannot deny----"

"I neither deny nor affirm," said Bess her face one glow of scarlet--but that might have been the fire---"you were not in earnest to-day."

"Indeed I was. Can't you see that I love you with my whole heart and soul! I never knew u............