When the three men arrived at Dulwich, they went straight to Carlingford House, where Mr. Paulton lived. The owner was in. Some years ago he had retired from business in the City, and now interested himself in local affairs, his garden, his horses, and reading. He was bluff, white-haired, stout, brief of speech, straightforward, kindly. He was not quite sixty yet, notwithstanding his white hair.

Just as they got into the house he was crossing the hall. He paused, and held out his hand cordially to Jerry O'Brien.

"What lucky wind has blown you here at such an hour?" he cried. "You are just too late for luncheon; but I dare say they'll be able to find something for you and Alfred, and----"

He now became aware the third man was a stranger, and stopped.

Young Paulton introduced the solicitor, and then all four went into a little library on the right hand side of the hall. Alfred felt acutely the difficulty of his position, and he found himself completely at a loss to explain the situation to his father. Then it occurred to him to appeal to O'Brien for help.

"Jerry," said he, "tell the governor all about it."

The old man looked apprehensively from one to the other. There was evidently something wrong.

"Out with it whatever it is, my lad," said he to O'Brien, and, without further delay, Jerry began. When he had finished, the old man seemed thunderstruck. It was incredible that he should ever be brought into contact with such people, and such a history. He had sat down in an easy-chair, and now he felt he had not the strength to get out of it. He looked blankly around at the three figures and the bookcases and the walls, as if he were awaiting contradiction from animate or inanimate objects. But no one spoke, and nothing occurred to reassure him.

At last the solicitor came forward with, "You know, sir, we have really nothing whatever to go on yet. Dr. Santley's dissatisfaction and the lady's shrinking from an inquiry, and the presence of this man Blake in London may all point to nothing--end in nothing. I have come out here to clear up the whole thing, and I have no doubt that if I might be favoured with half-an-hour's conversation with Mrs. Davenport all our uneasiness would disappear."

A look of hope came into Mr. Paulton's face. He rose, and, approaching the solicitor, said: "I wish you would see her and bring us good news. She is keeping her room, but I think she will come down to the drawing-room if Mrs. Paulton asks her. You would greatly oblige me if you would see her. I wouldn't be mixed up with a case of that kind for any consideration."

"I shall be only too happy to do anything I can in your interest, which is, I presume, identical with that of the afflicted lady. The first step to be taken is to ascertain through Mrs. Paulton if Mrs. Davenport will see me."

"I'll go immediately." Mr. Paulton moved towards the door.

"A moment, sir. Don't you think that if Mrs. Davenport will see me it would be as well Mrs. Paulton said a few words of preparation. Such as, for instance, that in cases of this kind it was always desirable to have advice, and to allow some one to act instead of the principal; as owing to the distress attendant on loss one is little able to look after matters of detail. If Mrs. Paulton would be good enough she might say that you thought I might be of some slight use. Anything of that kind Mrs. Paulton might say would prevent my coming too suddenly on the widow."

"Quite so. I am glad you mentioned it. I shall do exactly as you suggest. I shall be back as soon as I can." He hurried out of the room.

In less than a quarter of an hour he returned, rubbing his hands. It was plain by his appearance that he had been successful. Yes; Mrs. Davenport was in the drawing-room, and would see Mr. Pringle.

He went up, was introduced by Mrs. Paulton, who then retired, leaving client and lawyer together.

The lady had sent up to Crescent House for a change of clothes, and now appeared in a plain, black dress, with sleeves of ordinary length, and without the orange scarf or the diamonds at her throat or girdle. She motioned him to a seat, and then took one herself.

What Alfred said had prepared him for something out of the common, but for nothing like what he now saw. He was prepared to meet a beautiful woman in need of his help--he found a regal woman who might perhaps condescend to give him orders. Her face was absolutely without colour, save the full red lips, the dark impenetrable eyes, and the black eyebrows. But the modelling of the face was superb, and the carriage of the head magnificent. And yet he was conscious of something that detracted from, or contradicted the imperial grandeur of the head. There was no splendour in the pose of the figure. In the arms, and figure, and gait, there was an air of patient, suppliant dutifulness, that seemed to plead for love and protection.

"Mrs. Paulton has explained to me," she said, in a low, soft voice, "that it is better I should have some one to advise me in the present circumstances, and that you have been good enough, Mr. Pringle, to allow me to look to you for the help I need."

She spoke with great precision and delicacy of tone. It was a flattery to hear her utter one's name.

He answered in a low voice. His voice never before seemed so harsh in his own ears. "It is well for you to have advice. You may rely upon my doing all I can for you."

It was simply monstrous to associate this woman with the idea of crime. Attorney and man of the world though he was, he could not be persuaded into such a ridiculous belief. O'Brien must be a fool. Or no, it wasn't O'Brien--it was Paulton's doctor who had the honour of broaching that absurdity.

"I am quite sure of that. And the first thing I want to ask you about is, when I shall need your advice?--for I know absolutely nothing about such things. Mr. Davenport has a brother living; I suppose he had better be telegraphed for?"

"Yes. He must be telegraphed for at once."

"Then I suppose the--funeral must be arranged for immediately?"

"Yes. Then, as you are aware, a few legal formalities have to be gone through before that."

"What are they?"

"Have you not been told?"

"No. Pray tell me."

"Well, the sad event took place so suddenly that a certain form has to be observed. In this case it will be the merest form."

"Some sort of certificate has to be got, I dare say?"

"Well, yes; if you put it in that way."

"And what must I do?"

"You say you know nothing of such matters as we are now talking about. The first advice I have to give you is, that you must repose full confidence in me. Remember, I am bound by a rule of my profession to respect any confidence you may place in me. I shall have to ask you questions which would be impertinent from any one but your legal adviser. Mind, all this is merely to save you annoyance hereafter. Will you trust me with the history of last night?"

"I will--as far as I may," faintly.

"I have heard something of last night. I will not trouble you with any inquiries that I do not consider absolutely necessary. You and Mr. Davenport arrived together yesterday evening, and came on to your new house close by, your furniture having preceded you by only a few hours, so that the house was all in disorder?"

"Yes."

"And you came unaccompanied by any servant; may I ask you why was this?"

"Mr. Davenport had peculiar notions about never moving servants from one house to another. He insisted on getting new servants when we changed."

"So that it was at his desire you came unattended?"

"Certainly. Only it was too late when we arrived, we should have got some one to help us."

"And was Mr. Davenport in his usual health when you reached Crescent House?"

"No. His asthma was worse, but not very much worse. When it was bad he could not lie down. My room was the only one in order, and he said he would rest on the couch for the night. I left him at about eleven, but did not go to bed, as I was not quite easy about him, and thought I'd come down and put some coal on the fire later. I fell asleep in a chair, and when I went down I found all was over."

"He had a large quantity of chloroform by him?"

"Yes; a two-ounce bottle, almost full."

"And he was in the habit of using chloroform when the spasms were bad?"

"Yes; but what do you mean? You are perplexing and terrifying me. Pray speak plainly to me."

"I shall very soon be done. Remember, I told you I should ask no question that was not absolutely essential. Now, from the time you and Mr. Davenport entered that house, and until Mr. Paulton and the doctor entered it, had any other person access to it?"

She grasped the edge of the table near her. She trembled as in an ague. Her lips grew as pallid as her brow. She did not speak.

"Remember, anything you communicate is privileged, and will not find its way abroad through me. I am trying to get the means of protecting you. Of course you are fully at liberty to refuse to answer me now; but all questions will have to be answered at the inquest."

"Inquest!" she whispered, in a voice of abject terror. She rose to her feet and stood swaying to and fro, one hand still grasping the table. "Inquest! Mr. Paulton said there would be no inquest. There shall be no inquest."

"The bottle was found empty."

"Oh, Heaven, take away my life from me!"

"Was Blake in the house that night?"

She took her hand from the table and stood still a moment, looking upward. Then slowly she raised both her arms aloft, and cried:

"Hear Thou my prayer!"

She stood a while motionless. After a moment she said, in a firm voice:

"No mercy!"

She dropped her arms to her side, bowed slowly to him, and then with erect head and a firm step walked out of the room.