After making Lucy the mistress of the Hall until the return of its legal master, Mark Durham returned to town. Having regard to the fact that Beryl had taken up his quarters at the Conniston Arms—for what purpose the lawyer could not determine—he thought it wiser not to arouse the young man's suspicions by a visit to Castle. Certainly this was a somewhat over-strained sense of caution, since, being Conniston's lawyer, he could easily have gone there without it being thought odd. But Durham knew that Julius, driven to desperation by the loss of the fortune, would stop at nothing to accomplish his wish to obtain it. Did he learn that Bernard was still alive he would him. And in the present position of the case, when the truth could not be arrived at, Bernard, for his own safety, would be obliged to make terms. And such terms as Beryl would demand could not be granted.  
Durham therefore returned to his business, and at once set to work. So far he had done all that he could to settle the government of the property during 's absence, and it now remained to take such steps as would the intricacy of what appeared to be a plot to him from his rights. That Julius was at the bottom of the whole affair Durham was certain, and that Julius had his eye on him he . Therefore it him to move cautiously lest Beryl should counterplot him. And as in this game, which dealt with the issues of life and death, Durham's cards were all on the table and Beryl's were , the chances of victory lay with the latter. And if Julius won, he would certainly have no mercy. Conniston had written a letter directed to the London office stating in full the conversation which had taken place between him and Sir Bernard. Durham was therefore in full possession of all facts not known to Julius, and after turning over these in his mind he concluded that it would be best to start with an examination of Jane Riordan, the housemaid. She could not possibly be in the plot, as he had seen how simple a woman she was when at the inquest. Therefore she certainly, for some strange reason, believed Bernard to be the young soldier who had courted her. She had sworn to his photograph, and had addressed him in the hall of the Crimea Square house by his name. —here Durham thought with Conniston—some person had been impersonating Bernard, so the lawyer sent a message to Miss Riordan asking her to call. Then he intended to question her as to the personality and speech of the double.
 
The housemaid arrived dressed in her best and looking rather downcast. She was evidently nervous, and could not think what the lawyer wanted with her. Like all her class she had a horror of legal procedure, and always kept out of the clutches of the law. But it appeared that for her share in receiving a she had been dismissed by her master, Mr. Jefferies. Being without a situation she grasped at the chance afforded of seeing Durham, and hoped by working on his sympathies to secure a new one. But for this want she would probably have refused the invitation. As it was she duly appeared, and was accommodated with a seat beside Durham's desk. He then proceeded to question her, thinking a plain, examination would best get at the truth.
 
"Now then," said Durham, wheeling round his chair so that he could look her in the face. "You know I am the of Sir Bernard Gore, who is accused of the murder of his grandfather. In spite of the evidence given, I do not believe he is guilty."
 
"I don't think so either, sir," Jane, who had got out her handkerchief at the mention of the name.
 
"You never knew him."
 
"Yes, I did. He courted me for nearly a month. And a sweet young man he was, the very best I ever walked out with."
 
Durham eyed her keenly. Apparently she was speaking as she believed, and he considered that the double must resemble Bernard in a marvellous degree to make the housemaid thus sure of his identity with the accused young baronet. "You misunderstand me," he said mildly. "However, I'll come to the point presently. You must answer me as though you were in a witness-box."
 
"Yes, sir," said Miss Riordan, timidly. "But, please, before I speak, could you help me to a new situation? Mr. Jefferies dismissed me because I walked out with Bernard and received him in the kitchen."
 
"Hum," said Durham, reflectively. He did not know very well what to say at the outset as he was by no means prepared to promise to assist her off-hand. But on consideration he saw the necessity of keeping so valuable a witness under his own eye and away from Beryl, always supposing Beryl to be mixed up in the matter. He therefore made up his mind swiftly, and in his answer gained Jane's . "Yes, I can help you," he said; "my wants a housemaid. I will give you my address and a letter to her. Go to Camden Hill and if your character is satisfactory she will engage you."
 
"Oh, thank you, sir," said Jane, . "I'm sure my character is all that can be desired, save in this last trouble. But Bernard was such an agreeable——"
 
"There! there!" interrupted Durham, cutting her short, "we won't talk of that just now. This last episode of your career will not stand in the way of my housekeeper engaging you. I'll make that clear to her in my letter. Come now, will you answer my questions?"
 
"Yes, sir. Any you like to ask," said Jane, delighted at the granting of her petition, and thinking Durham a sweet gentleman.
 
"Good!" said the lawyer in an official manner. "What is your name?"
 
"Jane Riordan."
 
Durham this and her other answers down.
 
"You were how long at Mr. Jefferies?"
 
"Six months, sir."
 
"When did you first see this soldier?"
 
"Bernard, sir. In the Park, about a month before Sir Simon came."
 
"How did he become acquainted with you?"
 
Jane and looked down. "Well, sir," she said, blushing, "I am not bad-looking and Bernard—"
 
"He called himself Bernard?"
 
"Yes, sir. He said he was a corporal in the Imperial Yeomanry. He had seen me in Crimea Square."
 
"In this house?"
 
"No, sir. Leaving the house. He said he had come several times, being taken with my looks, and that he always wanted to know me. As he was so handsome, sir, and so civil, we walked out. He treated me to tea in the Park, and then I asked him to meet cook. He accepted at once, sir, and most willingly."
 
"I daresay," muttered Durham, seeing in this meeting how the scamp had forced his company on the girl so as to enter the house likely to be occupied by Sir Simon. "And he came?"
 
"Many times, sir—oh! many times, and made himself so agreeable that cook was quite jealous."
 
"Who did he say he was?"
 
"Well, sir, he did nothing but hint, saying he was a gentleman of high rank, as could be seen from his manners, and that he had because of a quarrel he had with his grandfather. But I never knew he was Sir Simon's grandson until I lost him," sobbed Jane. "Oh, dear me, and to think I would have been Lady Gore, with diamonds and fine clothes, had he lived."
 
"Hum!" said Durham, digging the point of his pencil into the paper, "so he practically told you the story of Sir Bernard."
 
"Yes, sir, as I afterwards learned it. And wasn't that natural, sir, seeing he was Sir Bernard?"
 
"Are you sure he was?"
 
Jane stared. "Why, sir, he was always frightened when Mrs. Gilroy came down to the kitchen and said she was his enemy, and that if she saw him he could never marry me. I didn't know what he meant at that time, but I see now. She would have said who he was. I used to hide him in cupboards, and once in the coal cellar. Cook and William never told, being sympathetic like!"
 
"Did he speak in educated manner?"
 
"Like the gentleman he was, sir, having been educated at Eton."
 
"When you saw him in the grasp of the policeman did you recognize him? Was he the same man who courted you?"
 
Jane stared again and looked puzzled. "There isn't two, sir, that I know of," she said; "and now," with a fresh burst of tears, "there isn't one, seeing he is drowned. Oh dear, dear me. Yes, sir, I knew him at once, although the light was bad. And when I would have seen him plainer, Mrs. Gilroy would not let him be brought under the lamp."
 
"Oh, indeed," said Durham, making a note of this. "Look here," and he held out a large portrait of Bernard, different to that shown at the inquest. "You recognize this, I suppose?"
 
"That's my Bernard, sir."
 
"Is it a good ?"
 
Jane examined the photograph closely. "Not what I'd call a very good one, sir, neither was the other. There's a look wanting."
 
"What sort of a look?"
 
"Well, sir, you might call it a roguish look, of a gentleman who had seen life and had been gay. This portrait is sad and looking. I should have been afraid to be courted by Bernard if he had looked like this. But he was always bright and full of . Then he has not got a spot on his chin as he has here. I suppose he cut himself shaving when he had this done."
 
Durham started. Here was a means of identification. Bernard had a rather large on the left of his chin. "Didn't the man who walked out with you have this spot?" he said, purposely adopting the word she had used.
 
"No, sir. He had a chin like a new-born infant, smooth and white.&quo............