When the inquest was over, and Dr. Lester had departed for Marborough gaol¹ under the escort of Inspector² Drek, the young journalist remained standing³ thoughtfully in the square before the inn. Nobody was surprised at the verdict, and everyone--as Paul could hear asserted on all sides--believed that Dr. Lester had murdered his own daughter while in a state of frenzy⁴ induced by intoxication⁵. But Mexton had his doubts about the matter, principally on account of the words spoken by Iris⁶ when she wished him to cease from searching for the assassin. He wished to question her as to what she meant; and implore⁷ her, if she knew the truth, to reveal it and save her unfortunate stepfather. While he was considering the advisability of following Iris to Poverty Villa⁸, he felt a touch on his arm. It was Eliza, and her face was grave.  
"I want to speak t' you, sir, if y' don't mind," she said quietly, with an entire absence of her former self-importance; "but not here; I want t' speak you--alone."
 
"Why? Is anything wrong?"
 
"I think so, Mr. Mexton--and with Miss Iris."
 
"Miss Iris?" repeated Paul, glancing round. "Where is she?"
 
"She's gone home. You follow her, sir, and ask her a question."
 
"What kind of question?" demanded Paul, startled by this hint.
 
Eliza drew Mexton to one side, until they were both out of earshot of the scattered⁹ groups, and bent¹⁰ forward to whisper in his ear, "Ask her why she went out after they brought home the corpse¹¹ of Miss Milly?" she said; and before Paul could make any comment on this remark, she laid her finger on her mouth, and walked away.
 
At first Paul intended to follow her, and demand an explanation; but on consideration he deemed it best to take her advice, and ask the question directly of Iris herself. More would be learnt by thus going to the fountain-head. Eliza evidently suspected something; and, afraid to question Iris directly, had hinted her suspicions to Paul that he might do so. With his usual promptitude Mexton sent over his notes on the trial by special messenger to the editor of the "Tory Times" at Marborough; and set forth¹² at a brisk walk to Poverty Villa. He believed firmly at the moment that the saving of Dr. Lester from suffering unjustly lay in the hands of his step-daughter.
 
As he passed along the street towards the desolate¹³ house in which the poor girl was waiting, he was surprised to meet with Herne, and still more surprised when Herne stopped to speak; for the man was not over-friendly towards him.
 
"What do you think of the verdict?" asked the squire¹⁴ abruptly¹⁵.
 
"It seems just enough, going by the evidence," replied Mexton cautiously.
 
"No doubt. This is one of those cases in which circumstantial evidence accumulates to hang an innocent man."
 
"You believe Dr. Lester to be innocent?"
 
"I do--as surely as I believe Lovel to be guilty."
 
"My dear sir!" protested the journalist. "Lovel proved his innocence¹⁷ by an alibi¹⁸."
 
"No doubt; on the evidence of that old witch Mother Jimboy. Bah! a made-up plot!"
 
"I don't think so, Herne. Why should Mother Jimboy assist Lovel?"
 
"Why?" repeated the squire--"because blood is thicker than water; and, I told you the other day, Lovel has got gipsy blood in his veins¹⁹."
 
"Who told you so?"
 
"The lady at whose name you blushed when I mentioned it in the Winding²⁰ Lane."
 
"Catinka?" said Paul, blushing again.
 
"Yes; Catinka, the violinist. Lovel knows her, and told her that his mother was Romany, perhaps the daughter of Gran Jimboy--who knows? That is why the old woman lied."
 
"Because Lovel is her grandson?"
 
"No, no; I am not sure of that; but because Lovel is a half-gipsy. But in spite of the alibi I believe he is guilty. I'll prove his guilt¹⁶ and hang him!"
 
"Why do you hate him so, Herne?"
 
"Because he led that poor girl to her death. I wished to save the soul of Milly; but it is lost, and Lovel is the cause. Besides, I believe it is my duty to succor²¹ the afflicted²², and of the afflicted Dr. Lester is one. An innocent man shall not die on the scaffold if I can help it. God forbid! I'll save Lester, and hang Lovel. The end of this tragedy has not yet come, Mexton."
 
"But if you----"
 
Herne waved his hand and interrupted Mexton.
 
"I can't waste any more time discussing the matter," he said, retreating. "I'll see you again when I have proofs to hang Lovel." After which speech he walked rapidly away, without the courtesy of an adieu.
 
"Mad!" said Paul to himself, and resumed his interrupted journey towards Poverty Villa. In his own heart the young man believed that Herne was insane; his fanaticism²³ in religion was a proof of an ill-balanced mind; and now this furious hatred²⁵ of Lovel--just enough, in the face of Lovel's attentions to Milly in wilful²⁶ disregard of the engagement with Herne--threatened to rob him of all his self-control. Failing to fasten the crime on Lovel, and it seemed impossible to do so, Herne was quite capable of shooting the man in a fit of rage. Knowing that Chaskin had most influence over Darcy, the journalist determined²⁷ to put him on his guard relative to the squire's hatred of Lovel. But this warning word need not be spoken immediately; and in the meantime Paul was anxious to see Iris.
 
The door of Poverty Villa was wide open; and the untidy house in its neglected garden looked more desolate than ever. Lester was on his way to Marborough gaol; Milly was lying in her coffin²⁸ at The Herne Arms; and Eliza had not yet returned. Therefore Paul knew that Iris was alone in the house with a heavy............