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. CHAPTER Xi.

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CHAPTER Xi. Love is Biind. A hard determined ioolnxmie into Roy's ayes at Kditii ? words. .1 I can't meet him whimpered. "I might .say or do something i should be* sorry for afterwards haven't- i'orgotten how he. my oldest f riend. treated mo that nkht. Haven't lle other Yes, yes, come this way." opening the J'old• ing tLaors between the little drawiug-room and the equ.a.Uy lliÍl1U:' dining-room hebin,1. You H b0 quite safe here only keep still, and don't let Rags bark, he seems inclined to." For the hair down the ridge o £ the dosr's back was oil end. and short of growling he was display- in* aiJ the symptoms ui canine r1ig.. Rass, tome here..ina behave yourself," mattered Roy, as ou hp-to, be ciept iuto th" back room, and milled the door to after him, while Edith stepped oaf into hall, in answer to In wood's loud kuoek. Every w-jiii that was uttered reached Roy with a distinctness that :5 frequently to be met with in jerry-built houses in suburbs he could not help hearing. Good afternoon. Mips Clifford," said Tn- w, ri5in hh t. 11. thp door wa. opend. You will, no doubt, he surprised at thid visit, but J very much wanted to fee you, and I thought it betier to cad here on the chance of finrling you at home. than going to your office, where you might be engaged. with people round you. You wi], tardon me, J hope." Kindly tvalk n. Mr Inwood. You're for- tunate to find me it home. I don't return from wark so early as a rille, This way, if vou please," onening the drawing-room door. Pray take a seat." Thank you. Miss Clifford- You are donnt. less familiar with all the details surrounding the terrible death ot my poor wife, since they have been so fully reported in the papers, and the unpardonable injury done me hy the villain who, till that moment. I had regarded a" my friewd. and who. 1 "egret to sav, has so far eluded the hand of justice, and Mr (nwood, if you have come here to abuse an innocent man. the one to whom my heart is given, I may save you further trouble I won't hear another word. To at ill the door." One moment, Clifford, I beg. T was under the impression that after what the in- quest brought, to light, you had cast aside as worthier, nay. as ;ia> insult, the love he pro- fessed. Think a moment, pray would an inno- cent man have fled lib- a. common thief. and hidden in the way Roynton has done. Would he Hot rather have stood his ground and given a. straightforward answer to the charges that were brought against liim ? Why. it stands to reason." Mr lnw-oed. lam not to hold a brief for Rov Royaton ir- my eyes tbe7e is no need to do so Everv man is entitled to hi-a own opinion, but it is against all the canons of good taste to abuse and vilify a man to the woman who i", to become his wife and T. for one, will not allow it. There is no need for further dis- cussion between 11" Again f ask you to have patience with me for a few moments, f admit that I am disap- pointed to find von holding the ooinionsyou have just expressed, but such being the case, I will say no more on that head Roy Rovston I shall be taboo ns regards ourselves. But there is another matter—the one which is ready the canse of my visit- You and your father resided at mre time in Lyoat, I believe, where, before her marriage, my poor wife had her home V Yes, thot is so." And you -were slightly acquainted with her there 1 knew her by.sight, certainly." But were never intimate I mean the two families did not visit ?" Most assuredly not." And the words were spoken with a decision that made Inwood raise his eves, and look fixedly at the speaker. You mean ?" I mean nothing." and the look on fare told how her memory was travelling back to far away scenes. For some minutes Inwood did not interrupt- her thoughts, but when her fixed, distant gaze relapse!, he said sharply Yoa and IJelene were not friends ?" "W-o were not friends." á In fact she hai often spoken to me of you as tie? greatest enemy. "She had no right to say that," was the in. cisiW 14 Why?" Because—no. the past is dead, let it remain dead. It is not for me to rake up what is far better forgotten." Then you refuss to tell me Yes. I do." Miss Clifford, what I ten you now I have told no one else. My wife is dearl, and her death has nearly killed me. for I loved her with a passion few hearts are capable of feeling. She was al in ah to me. and then to come home and find her done to death without so much as a last kiss. a farewell word, and that-that oun- drel, that villain Silence, Mr Inwood. Remember Your pardon, but ourelv you can under- stand my feelings, and can make allowance for tbc- .0 For your sorrow for the dead-ve not for your unjust accusations, which you scatter broadcast without proof." Be it so. I wilt try to keep myself in ha.nd, and not offend What I was going to say was. peor Helene bad some secret, that cast a shadow over what 1 believe was otherwise her happy life. How I became aware of the fact it matters no": I knew it was there, though she was not aware of my kno wledge. What wa.18 -the nature of the secret I admit at once I do not know Helene never spoke of it to though short of asking her to share it with me I did all in my power by devotion, gentleness, and trust to win Ver confidence Butf-it was in vain she nursed it in her own breast, and the sorrow it brought her she would not share even with me, who would have died to save her a moment s pam You, Miss Clifford, may know that sccret and if so I beg you. nay. I implore you to tell me what it was, I—I——" I know nothing, Mr Inwood." replied Edith in a coli. hard voice, looking her suppliant straight in the face. J know t don't believe you," exclaimed the man in a sudden accession of rage, rising to his feet. Mr Inwood and the girl rose, too. her eyes blazing with indignation. tell you. you're lying You know all about it, though you won't speak- HutDIbe even with you you shall pay for your silcnce dearly. You love that villalD-that murderer— at least you say you do. and if you speak the truth in tbis matter all the greater will be my revenge, far I'll hunt him down. I'm a rich man."and I'll spend myjast penny if needful so that he shall stand in a felon's dock, and later beneath the black beam with the hatter round his neck and tlien—then, if you still love him, you will know \vbat it means to have I refused my request to-day," During this outburst Edith had stood like a lovely tatue, rigid, unflinching, and asthongh she herrd not. waiting till he had finished and then in a calm, steady voice, pointing ta the door. she said I've beard all you've had to say. Now listen to me: stated your intentions, having made a request, I cannot grant. There is therefore no more to be said except to com- mand you to relieve me of your presence as quickly as possible. You came here unasked, and as long as you have been under my father's roof. I've tried to be courteous to you, in spite of the outrageous conduct you have been guilty of. Now go. and never, in the future, dare to address mo aeain. I do not fear anything 3 on can do I can nothing for your threats, which are as empty as the breath which gave them birth. Go Inwood was standing before her silent and trembling with rage and cxeitement. This young- girl had conquered him by her coolness he could not answer a word. and seizing his hat, he slunk from the house. As soon as he was gone the door between the two rooms opened, and Roy entered to find Edith swaying backwards and forwards with all the cokru. faded from her face, and her eves closed. He was only just in time to catch her In his arms. In another moment she would have fainted. My owu 'far ing V heeselaimed. leading her tethoeoueh. "This has been too much for you. I wouldn't liave believed Arthur Inwood could have been such a cur. He must be mad. I heard every word. and it was all I could do to keep myself fr-om rushing in and knocking him down—ihe villa,h Don't speak—rest a little you'll he better directly. For a time was silence as Roy sat beside her holding her hand, and then as the warm colour slowly came back to her face ,she said, Bmilicg up at him Oh. Rov, it. terrible! The felon* dock, and the black beam and she covered he* face with her haud. and shuddered "I minded aotbing but that, and thew i neanly gave way, hut I hope he didn't see it." 'Not he. From hi" tone he was in too great a rage to notice anything. Poor Helene s death seems to have changed him completely, bat that is no excuse for his treatment of you, 00 for every word he uttered he shall answer me sooner or later. How I longed to make am answer there and then ? Ob. no. Hav. you did right. I was so afraid you'd come- ajid then everything would have been spoOt as it it, he has gone away no wiser than he came, and you are still free. You must think of uie, dear we shall still be able to see each other now, but innocent as you are. once you were taken there would be no chance of that. You did quite right." It yoothink 80, little girl, it ts all right, but I felt a most awful eur. leaving you to fight yeur battle alone." Edith made no answer beyond a smile that brimmed over with love, as Hoy bent over her and kissed her. Just then the clock on the mantleshelf struck Hm hoar, aad the sound brovght them back to M* e*«ry«l»y world. HpBCHnMBnEfiSSSSKBSBHBnWHBMnMWVBMnBEl Roy, I'm afraid I must be sending you ,-ivray.. It would not do for you to be here when the g:r! come back, and her time is nearly up she's a good girl, and never outstays her leave." Of course, dear. llags and I must take to the streets again." And then, as he saw the look of pain that »wept over the taee that was dear to him-" Never mind, darling, it can't be for very Ion?, and we both can put up with a good cU-al now that we have the chance of seeing you now and then, eh. llags And tlie do raised ltim"di on hi" hiud legs, and rubbed his head against Edith's hand. Rut Roy, what, about Bob ? Am I to tell him that I have seen you ?" •" The dear old fellow. No, Edith, don't tell him better not, 1 think, at least, for a day or two. and then I'll teil him myself. You see. I shall have to be very careful now I'm in town, t'ni in the lion's tipn as it were, and though Bob is such a splendid chap, he isn't always as careful as he might be-anå then—who knows ? :\0. you'd better not tell him leave it to m. Very well dear and how and when am I to see you again ?" You tnust leave that too to me It so much depends on how matters go, but you may be sure I will manage something as soon as ever I can see my way clearly and in the meantime I'll be in Fleet-street when ycu come out for lunch, and we can at least see each other then if we are not able to speak." Well, dear, that will do better than noth- ing but oh, how I long for the old days back again. Why did you go to see Helene inwood on that fatal evening 1" Roy's brow clouded. I couldn't help my- self. I ought to have gone before, but I was a coward, and now I'm punished. Say no more now, it's past. and I must make the best of it. But, Edith, I tell you what you might make me a little bundle in paper that will look like food, to account for me having been so long here, in case anyone should have noticed." Of course, here's some that will do, won't it ?" Capital as the girl quickly formed what anyone would have taken to be a parcel of broken victuals And now noodbve, and it won't be long before we meet again, I Itope" And having kissed her fondly, he slung round his neck the little tray on which lay his stock of puzzles, and adjusting the black shade over his ey moved towards the hall. Edith followed him to open the front door through which he had hardly pfissed when they were both startled by hearing the latch of the garden gate as it swung back to admit Captain Clifford. The old man glanced In surprise from one to the other, as h « came up the little pathway and Roy, quickly taking up his cue, bumped up against him as he passed with Rags walking on before. It was a well acted little bit of comedy, and Roy's husky apology, I beg your pardon, ma'am." qucte took m the old man, and as he closed the door behind him he said I don't like lhos- beggars hanging about, Edith you should not encourage them." But, father, some of them are reallv unfor- tunate, and I can-t help pitying a blind man they are so helpless." Dmph Not half so helpless as they seem, some of them." Wel I, dear, this one did not take away more than. we can-afford, I am sure. But how is it you're back so soon ? I didn't expect you for hours yet." And explaining how he had found his friend out of town. Captain Clifford led the way into the dining-room. CHAPTER XII. A Mysterious Caller. As Roy made his way back to town, he i c-cog, nised that apart from .the joy both Edi'' ;i rid he had experienced at being together once more, his visit had be-en profitless- He had learnt nothing from her of what had taken place with regard to herself during his effacement, nor had she said a word as to the dagger—his gift to her on his return from a trip to Italy—with which the murder had been so mysteriously committed, and on the ownership of which, on that particular evening so much depended. Their delight at being together again haddrivenall other matters from their minds. But things could not remain thus. There is such a thing as the Elysium of fools, to linger in which brings mysery to the loiterers, and Roy, knowing something of the almost mysterious means of acquiring information possessed by Scotland Yard, trembled when he recognised that any day one of the officers of the Secret Department might descend upon Edith and arrest her. Was her supposed enmity towards the dead woman generally known ? At any rate, Inwood was aware of it, and after his threats which had reached Roy's ears that afternoon, he felt sure he would bring it before the police, and this might putthem on the track of the ownership of the dagger. A not her difficulty that occured to him was, could Edith prove an alibi in case of anything happening ? He remembered her arranging to go to the theatre on the evening of the tragedy f it was the last night of a piece she particularly wanted to see, and he would have gone with her had it not been for Inwood's pressing invitation. Had she gone ? If so. she might find it a most difficult matter to prove her whereabouts at the time the deed was com- mitted. Hide hide cried Edith, Inwood is coming to the house." ¡ A visitor to the pit of a theatre—and Edith always went to the pit when alotte-was only one of hundreds, and it would be a practical impossibility for those who sat next io her to speak as to her being there after this space of time, even if they could be discovered. No, this was no light matter, but one that he must face and be prepared for, in case of eventualities and in the meantime the murderer of poor Helene must be discovered, for once this was accompushed the danger to Edith and himself would be removed, and lie free to endeavour to recover the position from which his unfor- tunate business debts had dragged him. It was some days after this, and Arthur Inwood was sitting alone in his dining-room The wine and dessert were on the table, and he. with eyes fixed on the gi-ate now filied with llowering plants, was slowly drawing at a cigarette. He was smoking, it; is truf" but it iiiightbm6ve been an empty pipe or even a tooth- pick, that rested between his lips, for all the enjoyment he WAS extracting from it. The shock of his wife's death had caused a great alteration in him. Formerly he had been bright, cheerful, and happy now he was sullen. morose, and silent. The joy of living for him had disappeared. The Savoy, the Cecil, and the other haunts of gay London world knew htm no more. There might not have been a theatre in town so far as he was con- cerned he lived but for his office. and when that was closed he came straight home and dined in solitary state, and what he did the rest of the evening uoue of the servants knew. except that there was a good deal of cigar and tobacco ash on the tablu the following morning. He i was thus sitting when a servant, entered '• A person—a man. has called to ste you, sir." Inwood looked round, but tbere was no in- terest in his glance. What name did he give 7" He would not give any. sir." How often have I not told you I will see no one unless they give their names. Send him away." The servant retired, and a conversation could be heard taking place in the hall. Again the, door was opened He says he is sorry be has not a card with him, but his name is Ilaoul de Cliudwmp." What did you say ?" cried Inwood, start- ing from his chair. RAOUI de Ciinebamp. sir." Some imposter, no doubt; show him in." and Inwood took up his position on tbe hearth- rug facing the door. The next momen' there was a quick step across the hall, and there entered a tall, loosc- lv-jointed figure dressed in a semi-coionial fashion, swinging in his hand a broad-brimmed soft felt hat, stained and faded by sun and tough weather. Aa he drew into the circle of light, Inwood saw that the face matched the hat: it too was tanned and burnt a copper colour. The features were small and delicate, and the eyes bright and restless. The lower part of the face was covered by a thin black beard, cut to a point on the chin, while his hair was long and unkempt. There was no indication of shyness as cross- ing the room with careless slovenly gait, he held out. his hand, saying Halloa brother-in-law, how are you ? Very glad to make your acquaintance." Inwood stared at him. ignoring the proffered hand. I don't understand," he said. Is this meant for a joke ? If so, I consider it very ill-timed, and out of place in this house." Umph You're not very cheery in your greeting I thought you'd be glad to see me." Who tie you, pray? I never saw you before in my life that I know of." Who am I ? A nice kind of question to put to your dead wife's only brother." fletene's brother You lie, she never had one Oh that's what she told you, did she ? Well, I'm not surprised. I'm afraid she wasn't proud of me, but I'm the son of old Pierre de Clinchamp for all that, and consequently your brother-in law." Inwood. stared at his visitor as though ho would read him through and through, but his gaze was answered by a careless smile that did not waver. You say you are the son of Pierre de Clin- champ ?" He told me so, and I have no reason to doubt his word." Then why did not Helene mention you And the remembrance of that something that •> times had seemed to overshadow the life and happiness of his dead wife recurred to him. Well, it-s a long story." Co oil." You might have asked me to sit down, I think. Helene would have done so." Sit down." And it's a dry story as well," and the smile broadened. Help yourself—there's port and sherry, and brandy and soda on the sideboard." Whisky and soda for me. You English know a good irink." And the visitor helped himself liberally, and returned to his seat. Haven t you got a cigarette to offer me ?" with the same easy familiarity. For a moment Inwood did not reply, only pushed the embossed silver box towards him but when the younger man had helped himself, he said Don't think because I suffer you to smoke and drink in my house, I am going to accept all you may choofe to say. It is only because I am willing to hear your story but I warn you beforehand, I may not believe a word of it." You'll probably say you don't; but you will, all tke same." Go od." I am your dead wife'f brother," said the man. — — The visitor took another long drink and com- menced: Well, as I told you, I am the son-the only son-of Pierre de Clinchamp, silk manufacturer of Lyons. My early years matter not. When I was sixteen I went into business, in the office, and my views and those of my father, as to work. did not tally liom the first. I, what you English call, kicked over the traces there were rows—rows from morning till night. He never cared for me—it was only Helene he loved. I wonder now that he allowed me to be with him as long as he did, for I admit I played it pretty well, and kept the pot boiling. I didn't care a screw for the old man, and he was jolly short in the way of money. H > never gavg me the position I ought to have had as his son," By your own showing, you didn't deserve it," said Inwood, grimly. Perhaps not," replied the visitor," with a short, langh. Well, at last my father found he had been robbed. His name had been forged to some bills for large amounts and I, of course, was the thief. Bat the old man made a mistake for once in his life. J drew the line there—I was never a forger. A forger is an underhand cad. If I'd wanted to steal I should have done so in a straightforward manner, walked off with the money and run the chance of the racket; and I shouldn't have had much fear, for as a de Clinchamp he would not have cared to have the name figuring in the courts." Well, and what happened ?" asked Inwood, who was growing tired of this somewhat long rigmarole. Just what I expected. I told him there wasn't a word of truth in what he said, and I put it pretty plainly, too. He lost his temper and I lost mine there was thedeuce of a shine, ending in his telling me to clear out, and that he never wanted to see me again, when I pro- mised him he never should. And I kept my word, for lie was dead long before I came back to France." You left France ? Where did you go ?" Madagascar, and I never made a better choice in my life. I had a little money. Helene gave me some more, and off I went. I found s r,me friends of mine there; they got me a berth where there was nothing to do but drive nig- gers and, Sapristi we enjoyed ourselves." "I've no doubt you did," replied Inwood coldly. And why didn't you stay there 1" Why didn't I stay there ? Well-well-you see some of the big guns there thought it would be better for the island somehow if I was any. where else; and suggested my father might want to see me again," with a bitter laugh. It was rot, of course; they wanted me out of the place I knew too much about them. At any rtte, I saw it would be best to go, so I shipped for France, to find the old man had died without leaving me a stiver Helene had got tho lot, had married you, and was dead." Yes, yes," and Inwood's face grew dark with sorrow. Well, here I am." And whatdo you want now you are bere To make the acquaintance of my brother- in-law, who now represents the de Clinchamps, not one of whom except m-s self is left alive." •' You have made my acquaintance. Is there anything more you want!" Eh ? Anything more I want," And there was a took of impudent cunning in the young man's eyes. Don't you think that is a ques. tion I miht better put to you ? My sister was murdered, stabbed to death by a dagger that was known to have been in the possession of your greatest friend, who had dined with you that night, and who was once in love with your wife and since then, one of her moat honoured friends. He had nothing to gain by her death, while you—" and the speaker shrugged his shoulders, leaving the hint to sink home. You scoundrel And Inwood made a dash towards the speaker, but stopped as he quickly drew a revolver from his hip-pocket, saying coolly Gently, geatly, brother-in-law. Don't let's have anything of this kind between rela- tions. We're not at leggerheads, remember that." You accuse me of murdaring my wife, you scamp exclaimed Inwood, furiously. Pardon, I did not. I merely pointed out the absurdity of thinking this man Royston, whom your dunderheaded policemen would like to find, was the man who had killed her." You don't know the circumstances of the case" Pardon again, I do. I have made myself acquainted with t,bem to the minutest particu- lar since my arrival. I have not co-ne here to interfere." Then what have you come for ? I don't believe that you are de Clinchamp, Helene's brother." The young man's face again broadened into a smile as he took from his pocket a curiously shaped gold locket, opened it, and handed it to Inwood without a word. One glance at it was sufficient, for from the nterior, gazing up at him. was the lovely face of Helene. while on the outside was engraved the annorial bearing of the de Clinchamps, which he kcew so well. Inwood staggered back and sank into a ehair. covering his face with his hands, and there was silence in the room. (To be continued).

PEMBROKESHIRE LICENSEE FINED.

[No title]

-"-----Y GOLOFN GYMREIG. .

AT Y BEI'RDD.

INFLUENZA.

GWYRTH.

Y GAALCH.

' ADDUNED.

LLEW Y GOEDWIG.

Y FELLTEN.

\R ARGLWYDDI TORI AID D.

IONaWR. c;:

Y BRADYJHIAD

FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.

..:A2:-A BETT^ SEPARATION.

LLANELL Y liBERALS.

------Church Commission. ------.----+-----

Alleged Whiskey Fraud. 1

AH SEE'S WARDROBE.

NEW VALUATIONS.

BINDING ROPE SNAPPED.

DOTHEBOYS HALL. a'---