Having finished her business in London, Beatrice returned to Hurstable with Durban. They went back to The Camp, as the girl did not wish to again take up her abode in Convent Grange until her relations with Vivian Paslow were more settled. What Major Ruck meant by his mysterious hints, she could not imagine, but deep in her heart she cherished a hope that everything would yet be made smooth, and that all these troubles which desolated her life would be finally ended by her marriage with the man she loved.

It may seem strange that she should dwell at The Camp along with one who had confessed himself guilty of a terrible crime. But Beatrice, as she had said in London, and repeated frequently afterwards, did not believe Durban to be guilty. In an excess of zeal, and in order to secure her happiness, he professed himself to be the criminal. Had Waterloo and Major Ruck not accused Vivian, the girl felt very certain that Durban would not have accused himself. The man still insisted that he was guilty, and Beatrice still refused to believe him. After much thought she determined to give Vivian a chance of clearing himself, and believed that could he prove his innocence, Durban would not proceed with his self-sacrifice. With this in her mind, she wrote a note to Paslow the day after she arrived at The Camp. Durban was not with her at the time, as he had gone to the station to get the newspapers. It was necessary to see if the Black Patch Gang's quarters had been raided, and if Major Ruck had been arrested; if so, the appointment which the Major had made for the next evening at seven need not be kept.

Paslow, looking anxious and eager, arrived about three in the afternoon, and with him came Dinah. Without giving her brother time to speak, the girl flew at Beatrice and kissed her several times.

"Oh, Beatrice, I have such heaps and heaps to tell you," she gasped, with a flushed face and very bright eyes. "Jerry and I are going to be married in three months."

"That is indeed good news," said Beatrice cordially, and did not seek to stop the flow of Miss Paslow's confidences. After the sordid scoundrels with whom she had been mixed up lately she was more than delighted to be in the company of this homely, honest maiden, and to hear her artless prattle. Vivian cast an inquiring look at Beatrice, as he was anxious to know how she had sped with Lady Watson, and could not understand why she had returned with Durban. But the girl merely smiled to reassure him, although she felt far from smiling, and demanded the news from Dinah. That damsel was only too glad to lead the conversation.

"It's this way," she declared, sitting down, and breathing hard: "Jerry has had his salary raised, and we'll have enough to rent a tweeny house at Fulham, or Bedford Park, or somewhere nice. Jerry is writing a novel, and I'm going to help him. And Mr. Snow has been made a Dean of some place in Wales."

"I am glad to hear that," said Beatrice quickly, for she thought that this preferment would remove Mrs. Snow from the neighbourhood--a thing devoutly to be wished for, since the woman disliked her.

"So am I, because Mr. Snow will get a large salary; and, in spite of Mrs. Snow (who is a cat!), Mr. Snow intends to allow Jerry and me one hundred a year. Vivian (who is a dear!) intends to allow me the same, so what with this and Jerry's salary we'll have about four or five hundred a year to begin life on. I really don't know if I am standing on my head or my heels," cried Dinah, clapping her hands, and with her freckled face aglow with lively joy.

"So you see, Beatrice," said Vivian, with a smile on his dark face, "her happiness and life are settled. She will marry Jerry, and help him to become the Shakespeare of his generation."

"Oh no. Shakespeare only wrote plays!" said Dinah contemptuously. "Or was it Bacon? Jerry is to write novels, like Thackeray or George Eliot--but she was a woman, wasn't she? We'll be so happy; and I intend to furnish the drawing-room in cherry-colour, which always----"

"My dear Dinah," said Vivian impatiently, "can't you leave these minor details to some future occasion?"

"Ah! wait till you and Beatrice consult about the refurnishing of the Grange," said Dinah reprovingly; "then you'll find how important all these things are. Mr. and Mrs. Snow go to Wales in a month, Beatrice, and I shan't be sorry. I want to be miles and miles away from my future mother-in-law. But I must go." Dinah rose in a hurry. "I am on my way to the station to meet Jerry. I only called in to tell you how delicious everything is. Good-bye, good-bye!" and Dinah, kissing Beatrice twice, took herself off rapidly, while Vivian shrugged his shoulders.

"What a whirlwind in petticoats!" said he good-humouredly.

"I am glad she is to be happy with her lover," said Beatrice in a pensive manner. "And I am also glad," she added, looking attentively at Paslow, "to know that Mrs. Snow is leaving the neighbourhood."

"So am I," said Paslow, with a sigh. "That woman hates you, Beatrice."

"She cannot do me any harm," replied the girl, and then looked again at Vivian. She noted with a pang how worn and thin he appeared: noted also that there were white hairs amongst his thick black locks. "My poor boy," she said tenderly, "you have suffered!"

Vivian looked at her in a startled way, and put out his hand as though to keep her off. "Don't," he said hoarsely, "or else I shall forget myself and take you in my arms."

"Vivian"--she touched his arm and he winced, with a flush of colour, at the tenderness--"we may come together after all."

"Beatrice!" he said breathlessly, then dropped the hand which he had seized. "You know who stands between us."

"She may not always stand between us, Vivian."

"What! Is she dead?"

"No. But Major Ruck---- Wait, Vivian; let us sit down and talk. I have much to tell you, dear."

"Yes, yes, Sit here!" Vivian hurriedly led her towards a garden seat near the battered sundial, and fixing his eyes on her tired face, waited impatiently for what she had to say. But Beatrice did not begin at once: she wanted to startle him into telling the truth.

"Major Ruck and Waterloo both accuse you of killing Alpenny," she said bluntly, and looking straightly at him.

Vivian jumped up with a suppressed oath. "What a lie!"

"Tell me," she said quickly--"tell me exactly what you did on that night."

"I have told you. I caught Waterloo and kicked him; then I looked for you, and not finding you, went home. Next morning I called to see how you were getting on, and gave the key of the smaller gate to Durban, who hung it up in the counting-house, as he told you."

"You were not near this place on that night?"

"No. I swear I was not."

Beatrice saw from his earnest, puzzled look that he really spoke the truth. Without wasting further time in skirting round the subject, she related what had taken place at the Black Patch Gang's den in Stepney. Vivian listened with growing surprise, and jumping up, began to walk backwards and forwards, much agitated. When she had finished, he stopped before her with an angry air.

"The whole story is a lie!" he declared decisively. "I certainly caught Waterloo, and kicked him: he certainly threatened me with a very ugly-looking knife; but he got away before I could take it off him. I wish I had found it before I tied his hands."

"You tied his hands?"

"Yes, with my handkerchief."

Beatrice rose suddenly, and caught her lover's arm with so much force that he winced. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled by her look.

"Did--did--Waterloo get away with the handkerchief?"

"Yes. I knocked him down and tied his hands. I was going away, when he got rid of the handkerchief, and ran at me with a knife. I dodg............