The words rang piercingly through a dead silence. Beatrice, startled by persistent introduction of a bygone crime, stared at the lean-faced woman who made the outcry. The Coroner blinked furiously, and nursed his chin in his hand, considering what to say and what to do. Finally, he made up his mind to rebuke Mrs. Snow. "You have given your evidence," said he, frowning a trifle, "and now you must be silent."

"You should note what I have told you," said Mrs. Snow calmly, but her bosom heaved impatiently; "the one crime may help the other."

"As how?" asked the Coroner politely.

"Because you may strike down two birds with one stone."

"I should rather put it, if what you say is true, Mrs. Snow, that we may strike down one bird with two stones. I understand that you say the man who murdered Colonel Hall--I remember him well--also murdered Mr. Alpenny?"

"You heard what Miss Hedge said about the black patch, Dr. Arne: and you know that Colonel Hall's throat was also cut.

"There was some stealing also," said Dr. Arne musingly, "which makes the parallel more complete."

"There was a diamond necklace stolen," said Mrs. Snow quietly; "at least I remember that. I was not married then, and Mrs. Hall was my dear friend."

"I never saw her," said the Coroner coldly, and a trifle rudely. "All this is not to the point--Miss Hedge, will you go on?"

"What would you have me tell you?" asked the witness, who had been listening eagerly to Mrs. Snow's account of the earlier crime.

"How could you see this man, seeing that the night was dark and very stormy?"

"I saw his face in a flash of lightning," explained Beatrice, and then related the momentary meeting. But she suppressed the fact that on the same night she had met Vivian under the Witches' Oak. It was not pertinent to the case, she thought. Moreover, with the knowledge of whose handkerchief was in her pocket, she thought it best to keep Paslow's name out of the matter.

"The gates were open?" asked the Coroner, when she ended.

"Wide open."

"Mr. Alpenny had the key, I believe?"

"Yes; but that key was not on the ring to which the others were attached. It hung on the wall."

"Along with the key of the smaller gate," put in Durban.

Then Inspector Jones spoke. "The key of the large gate," said he, "I found in the lock the next morning, where it had been left."

"The man with the black patch closed the large gate after him, as he ran out," said Beatrice.

"Ah! then, probably he opened the gate from the inside, and when he met you he was too startled to take it out of the lock.--And the smaller key--that belonging to the little gate, Mr. Inspector?"

"It is hanging on the wall of the counting-house now."

Beatrice started, and grasped the chair near which she stood to keep herself from falling. Vivian had picked up the key when she dropped it under the Witches' Oak. He must have replaced it in the counting-house himself, when he was inside. He had also left the handkerchief which she had in her pocket. Surely he was guilty, and yet--and yet--oh! it was too terrible. A word from the Coroner recalled her.

"You look pale, Miss Hedge?" he remarked suspiciously.

"And no wonder," said the girl faintly; "the whole affair is so very terrible."

"Well, well!" said Arne, relenting, and believing this excuse, which was feasible enough. "I shan't keep you much longer. Why did you not see Mr. Alpenny on that night?"

"I have told you: the note----"

"Ah! yes. I was about to remark on that when you spoke last--Mr. Inspector, why has not this note been put in evidence?"

Inspector Jones, with profuse apologies, laid the note on the table.

"I quite forgot," he said, looking ashamed, "but here it is. As you will see, Mr. Alpenny says that he is going away for three days."

"Where did you find the note, Miss Hedge?"

"Beside my bed on that night. I naturally thought that, as the light was out in the counting-house, and the note explained, that Mr. Alpenny had gone away as he intended."

"Quite right--very natural--hum--hum. When you found the body"--he spoke to Durban--"what clothes was it dressed in?"

"Mr. Alpenny always wore one suit," and Durban explained the old-fashioned dress; "but when I found the body, it was clothed in a loose cloak which he used to wear in rough weather."

"And a hat?"

"The hat was on the desk, sir."

"Humph!" said Dr. Arne thoughtfully; "then it would seem that he was struck down, just as he was going up to town. Could Mr. Alpenny have caught a train so late?"

"Yes, sir, if he left The Camp at nine o'clock. There was a train at half-past ten to Brighton; and he could have caught a late one on the main line, or he could have stopped at Brighton all night. He sometimes did."

"It is nearly three miles to our local station," said Dr. Arne. "Could an old man like Mr. Alpenny walk that distance?"

"He often did," declared Durban emphatically; "he had a wonderful constitution, had the master."

"Marvellous vitality," cried Dr. Herman from his seat, and was rebuked by his enemy the Coroner.

Arne asked a few more questions, and then addressed the jury. He pointed out that, on the evidence before them, they could not arrive at any conclusion as to who was the actual murderer.

"The man who murdered Colonel Hall," cried Mrs. Snow.

"Quite so," said the Coroner smoothly; "but that man escaped, and was never discovered. If it is the same man--and certainly, Mrs. Snow, it seems as though your surmise is right--he may escape again. Mr. Alpenny apparently was about to start on his journey, after leaving the note for Miss Hedge, and probably was turning over some necessary papers, when he was struck down. Regarding the locked door, I can offer no explanation: nor have the police been able to find this masked man, who assuredly must be the assassin. The case is full of mystery, and I do not see what can be done, save that the jury should return an open verdict."

He made a few more observations, but what he said was not very much to the point. The jury--what else could be done?--returned a verdict of murder against a person or persons unknown, with an observation to the effect that the police should hunt down the man with the black patch. This last remark was rather irregular; but, to say the truth, everyone was so puzzled over the aspect of the case that no one had any very clear idea of what to say or do. However, the verdict--such as it was--resolved itself into the terms above stated, and the jury betook themselves severally to their homes, there to puzzle over the matter. Beatrice went back to The Camp with Durban, and both felt glad that the corpse was still left in an outhouse of the hotel. Neither wished that gruesome relic of mortality to remain in The Camp.

"That is all right, missy," said Durban, when the two were walking along the lane towards The Camp; "master will be buried to-morrow, and we won't think of him any more."

"I'll never get the sight of that body out of my head," said Beatrice, with a shudder. "Durban, who could have killed him?"

"I cannot say, missy," said the half-caste stolidly; "you heard what evidence I gave."

"Yes. But did you speak truly?"

"I spoke what I spoke," said Durban sullenly; "the least said, the soonest mended."

Beatrice felt a qualm of terror at the memory of the replaced key and the handkerchief in her pocket. "Then you have some idea who killed Mr. Alpenny?"

"No, I have not, missy--that is, I cannot lay my finger on the man."

"Then it was a man?"

"It might have been two men or three, missy. Master had dealings with very strange and dangerous people: I don't wonder he was killed. And," cried the half-caste, stopping to emphasise his words, "if I knew who killed him, I would shake that man's hand."

"Durban! Why, in Heaven's name?"

"Because--because--missy," he broke off abruptly, "let the past alone, my dear young lady. Mr. Alpenny was a bad man, and came to a deserved end. I did not kill him, you did not kill him, so we had better think no more of him. When he is buried, you will have the money, and the............