Afterwards, Cyril, when questioned, could never clearly recollect what took place. Vand's oar had missed his head, but had struck his right shoulder with considerable force, so that his revolver shot had gone wide of its intended mark. When Bella shut off the beam—and Cyril wondered at the time why she did so—everything was dark and confused. What with the gloom, the rain and curses from Vand and Durgo, who were struggling in the water, and the shrieks of Mrs. Tunks, added to those of the half-drowned woman, Cyril felt his head whirl; also the blow from the oar had confused him, and he became sick and faint for the moment.

Granny Tunks with commendable forethought had brought out a bullseye lantern, which she must have stolen from some policeman. Flashing this on to the water-way, its light revealed Durgo and the cripple locked in a deadly embrace, and Mrs. Vand clinging to the bank with one hand while she clutched her shawl with the other. Cyril thereupon plunged down the incline and dragged the wretched woman out. Thinking she was about to be arrested she fought like a wild cat, and would have forced the half-dazed young man into the water again, but that Mrs. Tunks brought a chunk of wood with considerable force down on her head.

"What the devil did you do that for?" gasped Cyril furiously; "you've killed her, you old fool!"

"What do I care, deary?" cried Granny shrilly. "I'd kill them both if I could, for the master wants them killed, curse them both!" and she tottered down to the boundary channel, while Cyril carried the inanimate form of Mrs. Vand into the hut. Here he laid her on the floor, and hastily bidding the Romany girl attend her, hurried out again.

"They're dead, both of them! Oh, the master's dead!" yelled Granny Tunks.

With the lantern raised she stood on the bank peering into the water, but there was scarcely enough light to see what was taking place. All sounds had ceased, however, and only the drench of the rain could be heard. But even as Granny spoke, the Romany girl, anxious to see what was taking place, darted out of the cottage with a kind of torch, consisting of tow at the end of a stick steeped in kerosene. This flared redly and flung a crimson glare on the water-ways, and flung also its scarlet light on the bodies of Durgo and the Cripple. These lay half-in and half-out of the water, fast locked together in a death grip. There was no wound apparent on either body, so Cyril conjectured that in the struggle both had been drowned. Durgo's mighty arms were clasped tightly around the slender body of the cripple, but Vand's lean hands were clutching the negro's throat with fierce resolution. Both were quite dead, and even in death Cyril, although he tried, could not drag them apart. That so delicate a man as Vand could have contrived to drown the powerful negro seemed incredible to Cyril: but he soon saw that to kill Durgo the cripple had been willing to sacrifice himself. Probably he had dragged Durgo under water, and having a grip on the man's throat had squeezed the life out of him with a madman's despairing force. The weak had confounded the strong on this occasion in a most pronounced manner.

Meanwhile, Granny Tunks was bewailing the loss of her master, and the sharp-featured Romany girl echoed her cries. The screams of both brought out Luke, who appeared at the fire-lighted door of the hut looking much better than Cyril expected him to be, seeing how severe had been his last illness. He had something in his hands, and in the flaring light of the torch Lister saw that it was a somewhat small black bag. In a moment the young man guessed that Luke Tunks had been robbing the unconscious Mrs. Vand, as he remembered that she had kept a close grip of something under her shawl even while she was struggling with him.

"The jewels!" cried Cyril, too excited to be cautious, and leaped for the gipsy. "Give me the jewels."

"They're mine, blast you!" growled Luke, trying to evade him. "Missus gave 'em to me. Leave me alone. Granny, help me!"

Mrs. Tunks ran to the rescue, for the mention of jewels stirred her avaricious blood like the call of a trumpet. But already Cyril had plucked the black bag from the still weak gipsy, and Luke was not strong enough yet to make a fight for it. Aided vigorously by the Romany girl, the old woman would have closed in, but that a shout from the opposite bank made all turn. A dozen bullseyes were flashing over the stream. Cyril, gripping the bag, dashed the woman and the man aside and sprang to the verge of the channel.

"Is that you, Inspector Inglis?" he shouted.

"Yes; who are you?" came the sharp official tones.

"Cyril Lister. Come over yourself, or send some men. Vand and Durgo, the negro, are dead."

There was a confused muttering of surprise amongst the constables. Then came Inglis's clean-cut speech. "We heard a shot. Is——"

"No. Durgo struggled with Vand in the water-way, and they were both drowned. These gipsies here are making trouble, and Mrs. Vand is unconscious in the hut. Come across and take charge."

"How the devil can we get across here?" demanded Inglis. "It's twenty feet of water. Here you men, go round by the bridge."

"It's broken down," yelled Cyril.

"Who broke it?"

"Durgo. Let go, you old devil!" and Cyril swung Granny Tunks aside. The woman was still trying to clutch the jewels. "Inglis, you'll have to swim across. There's no other way."

No sooner had Lister suggested this expedient than Inglis obeyed it with the promptitude of an Englishman. Several heavy bodies were heard plunging into the water, and the bullseye lanterns were seen approaching like moving glow-worms as their swimming owners held them above their several heads. Had Granny Tunks been strong enough she would have attempted to prevent the landing of this hostile force; but Luke was useless and the Romany girl still more so. All she could do was to enter the fortress of her hut and bar the door, which she accordingly did, while Luke, mindful that he might be arrested for the murders as an accomplice after the fact, slunk hastily into the standing corn. Shortly Cyril was shaking hands with a dripping police inspector, and surrounded by six dripping constables. As the half dozen men and their officer were already wetted to the bone by incessant rain, the plunge into the channel did not trouble them in the least; indeed, they looked as though they rather enjoyed the adventure.

"But we may as well get under shelter to hear your story," suggested Inglis, and knocked loudly at the door of the hut. As Granny would not open, he simply turned to his men and gave a sharp order. "Break it down," said Inglis, and in less than a minute the constables were marching into the small apartment over the fallen door.

"I'll have the law on you for this!" screeched Mrs. Tunks, shaking her fist.

"You'll get a stomach-full of law, I have no doubt, before I have done with you," retorted Inglis. "Who is this?" and he stared at the inanimate form on the earthen floor amidst pools of water.

"Vand's wife, who was trying to escape with him," said Cyril. "She is insensible from a blow this old demon gave her."

"She'd have had you in the water else," hissed Mrs. Tunks scornfully.

"It wasn't unlikely, seeing how she fought. Have you any brandy?"

"A trifle for my spasms," admitted Granny sullenly.

"Then bring it out and revive Mrs. Vand," said Inglis impatiently. "It will be necessary for me to question her. Mr. Lister"—he brought his mouth very close to the young man's ear and spoke in a whisper—"is what that nigger told me quite true?"

"About Vand murdering Huxham? I believe it is, but I can't be sure. I got these, however, from Mrs. Vand. Don't let the old hag come near or she'll try and loot them."

"Loot what?" demanded Inglis, on seeing Cyril open the black bag, after he had motioned the constables to surround the table. "Oh, by Jupiter!"

His surprised ejaculations were echoed by his men, for Lister emptied on the table many glittering stones, cut and uncut. Chiefly they were diamonds, but also could be seen sapphires, rubies, pearls, and emeralds, all glowing with rainbow splendour in the fierce radiance of the bullseye lanterns. Mrs. Tunks whimpered like a beaten dog when she saw what she had missed, and tried to dart under a policeman's arm. "No you don't!" said the man gruffly, and gripped her lean wrist as her hand stretched greedily over the flaming heap of gems.

"Whose are these?" asked the inspector, quite awed by this wealth.

"Miss Huxham's," said Cyril, making a ready excuse until such time as the matter could be looked into, for he did not wish Inglis to take possession of Bella's fortune. "Her father left her these and the house to Mrs. Vand; but the woman withheld the jewels from her niece, and tried to-night to bolt with them. Then Luke Tunks attempted to steal them from her, while she lay unconscious here. Luckily I was enabled to rescue them, and now I can restore them to Miss Huxham."

"Where is Luke Tunks?" asked the inspector, while Cyril packed the gems in a chamois leather bag which he found in what Granny had called in her trance the portmanteau.

"Gone where you won't get him," grunted Mrs. Tunks, who was holding a glass of brandy to Mrs. Vand's white lips.

"You must get him, Inglis," said Cyril insistently. "He knows all about the murder of Huxham, and has been blackmailing the Vands."

"So that nigger said. By the way, we must see to the bodies." Inglis turned to the door, then looked back at Lister. "I wish I knew what this all meant, sir," he remarked, much puzzled.

"You shall know everything in due time, and a very queer story it is."

The inspector might have gone on asking questions, but at that moment Bella Huxham, breathless and wet, appeared in the doorway. In the semi-darkness she could scarcely see her lover, and called him. "Cyril! Cyril! what has happened?" she panted. "I have run all the way, and—who are these?"

"Inspector Inglis and constables," said that officer. "Where have you come from, miss?"

"From the Manor-house. I went to see my aunt, and saw her run away with her husband. Where is she? Where is he?"

"There is Mrs. Vand," said Cyril, pointing to the still insensible woman, "and her husband is dead in Durgo's arms."

Bella shrieked. "Is Durgo dead?"

"Yes, unfortunately. Vand clutched his throat and dragged him under."

"But so weak a man——"

"He sacrificed his own life to kill Durgo," said Cyril. "What's to be done now, inspector?"

Inglis acted promptly. "One of my men can stay here to look after the old woman," he said officially, "and the rest can help me to take the bodies of Vand and the nigger back to the Manor-house. We must take possession of that place until everything is made clear at the inquest. What will you do, Miss Huxham? Better get home. This is no place for a lady."

"I must stay and revive my aunt," said Bella, who already was bending over the woman and had the glass of brandy in her hand.

"Good," said Inglis, motioning his men to file out. "I'll come back and question her when you get her right again. Mr. Lister!"

"With your permission, Mr. Inspector, I'll wait here with Miss Huxham," said Cyril significantly. "I don't trust these two women"—he looked at Granny and the Romany girl—"also Luke Tunks might be lurking about. If Miss Huxham were left here alone—" his shrug completed the sentence.

"Dutton will keep guard at the door," said Inglis, selecting the village constable, a fresh-faced, powerful young man, "and if these women try any games he can take them in charge. Also, Dutton"—he turned to the man, who had already posted himself as directed—"you can hold Luke Tunks should he turn up. I want to question him also," after which orders Inglis with a nod went out. Cyril followed.

The bodies were duly found, and the inspector uttered an exclamation of surprise when he saw that Durgo was nude. "What does this mean?"

"Mean!" said Cyril, who looked over his shoulder, "simply that Durgo, in spite of his Oxford training, was a savage at heart. He arranged a trap to catch the Vands, and stripped so as to be prepared for any emergency."

"Rum notion," said Inglis, who looked puzzled. "But what had he to do with all this murder business?"

"He was my father's friend," explained Lister, "and—" he stopped on seeing the eager faces around him, adding in lower tones, "what I have to explain is for your own ear in the first instance, inspector."

Inglis looked grave, and even suspicious. "There seems to be much to explain, Mr. Lister," he said seriously. "However you can stay here. I shall take the bodies to the Manor-house and thoroughly search the place. When I return I hope to hear your story and to examine Mrs. Vand. It seems to me," added the officer, as he turned away, "that the mystery of the Huxham murder is about to be solved at last."

"I think so myself," assented Lister soberly; and after seeing the six men take up their burden of the dead, he returned to the hut in silence.

Here he found Mrs. Vand, pale but composed, sitting up on the floor with her back propped up against the wall. Granny Tunks, looking very sulky, was on her hunkers before the fire smoking her cutty pipe, and the Romany girl could be seen lying on Luke's vacated bed in the inner room. Only Bella was attending to the woman she had called aunt for so long, and who had so persecuted her. She was urging Mrs. Vand to speak out.

"You must tell the truth now," said Bella, "for the police will arrest you."

Mrs. Vand could not grow paler, for she was already whiter than any corpse, but a terrified look came into her eyes. "You'll be glad of that, Bella?"

"No," said the girl earnestly; "I am not glad to see you suffer. You have been cruel to me, and I thought that I should like to see you punished; but now that you have lost your husband and are so miserable, I am very sorry, and both Cyril and I will do our best to help you. Tell all you know, Aunt Rosamund, and perhaps you will not be arrested."

"If I tell all I know I am sure to be arrested," said Mrs. Vand sullenly.

"But surely you did not murder your own brother?"

"No, I didn't. Badly as Jabez treated me I did not kill him, although I don't deny that I wished for his death. Well, he is dead and I got his money, and now—" she buried her shameful face in her hands wailingly—"oh! my poor dear Henry, I have lost him and lost all. As to you"—she suddenly lifted up her head to glare furiously at Cyril, who was leaning against the door-post a few yards from the watching policeman—"you have been the evil genius of us all. Where are my jewels?"

"They are in this bag," said Lister, holding it up, "and they belong to Bella."

"Jabez left everything to me," began Mrs. Vand, when Cyril interrupted.

"These jewels were not his to leave. They were the property of Maxwell Faith, who was a trader and——"

"I know all about that," said Mrs. Vand, cutting him short, "and Bella is his daughter, you were going to say."

"Yes; therefore the jewels are her property. Who told you of——"

"Luke Tunks told me."

"That's a lie!" snarled Granny from her stool near the fire.

"It's the truth," gasped Mrs. Vand, taking another sip of the brandy which Bella held to her lips. "Luke was dodging round the house on the night of the murder and peeped in at the study window. He overheard the interview between Jabez and Edwin Lister."

"What!" Cyril took a step forward in sheer surprise. "You know my father's name also?"

"I know much, but not all," said Mrs. Vand in a stronger voice, for the spirit was taking effect. "For instance, I don't know what became of Edwin Lister, but Luke does."

"Then Luke shall be arrested and questioned."

"He shan't!" muttered Granny venomously. "Luke's escaped—a clever boy."

Bella put her arm round Mrs. Vand to render her more comfortable. "How much did Luke tell you?" she asked softly.

"Only so much as cheated us—Henry and I—into paying him money."

"Oh," said Cyril quietly, "so that is why Luke got so drunk."

"He spent his money in drink," said Mrs. Vand indifferently. "We paid him a good deal. He never would have left us, and intended to go to America with us to-night, as he knew too much for our safety."

"How did you intend to escape?" asked Cyril sharply.

"We intended to row down the channel to the swamps; that is why Henry got the boat a few weeks ago. Then we intended to cut across the marshes to the high road, where a motor-car, hired by Henry, awaited us. It would have taken us to London, and there we could have concealed ourselves until a chance came to get to the States. Everything was cut and dried, but you——"

"No," said Lister seriously; "it was not I who stopped you, but Durgo."

"That negro? Then I am glad he is dead!" cried Mrs. Vand, who was getting more her old self every minute. "However, it's all done with now. You have the jewels, Henry is dead, and I don't care what becomes of me."

"But who murdered my father?" asked Bella earnestly.

"Jabez wasn't your father. Maxwell Faith was your father, for Luke overheard Edwin Lister say as much to Jabez."

"And what became of Edwin Lister?"

"I don't know; Luke never told me that. All he said was that he saw and heard the two talking. Then he left the window, and only returned to see Henry stab my brother."

"Oh!" Cyril and Bella both uttered ejaculations of horror.

"Yes, you may say 'oh' as much as you like, but it's true," said Mrs. Vand with great doggedness. "Henry came with me to the Manor-house on that night at ten o'clock. He did not stop at the boundary channel, as he declared. He only said that to save himself. But he came with me, and we saw my brother, who was in his study. We confessed that we were married, and then Jabez grew angry and said he would turn me as a pauper out of the house next morning. He drove Henry and myself out of the room. I fainted in the kitchen, and when I came to myself Henry was bending over me, very pale. He said he had killed Jabez with a knife which he found on the floor. I had seen the knife before when we were telling Jabez about our marriage. But in the excitement I didn't pick it up."

"Was there blood on the knife?" asked Cyril, remembering Granny Tunks' trance, as reported by Bella.

"I can't say; I don't know. I was too flurried to think about the matter. All I know is that Henry killed Jabez with that knife which Jabez brought from Nigeria, and then dropped it behind the desk."

"What took place exactly?" asked Cyril hastily, while Bella closed her eyes.

"Ask Luke; ask Luke," said Mrs. Vand testily. "He knows all," and she refused to say another word.