"Yes, I am quite satisfied on that point. Tilbury--ha! they were making for Tilbury. Did you inquire there?"

Steel nodded. "I could find no trace of them. No one saw them, or rather her, for I asked only after Miss Denham. It is my opinion that they must have got on board some ship, and have escaped to foreign parts. I could not learn of any ship having left that night, though. Well, that is all the evidence, Mrs. Parry, and you can see for yourself that the case against Miss Denham is almost conclusive."

"All the same, I believe she is innocent," insisted the old lady; "it was the man who committed the crime. Ask Morley about him."

"Do you think he knows anything?"

"Not of the murder; but he must know the man's name. And now as you have been so frank with me I'll show you what I promised. Do you remember the anonymous letter and the reference to the Scarlet Cross?"

"Yes. Miss Denham said that her father--who is now dead--wore a red-enamelled cross on his watch-chain."

"I know. Mrs. Morley told me so. Now see here." Mrs. Parry opened her left hand, which for some time she had kept clenched. In her palm lay a small gold cross enamelled red.

"Where did you get that?" asked Steel, astounded.

"Mrs. Bates, the pew-opener, found it in the church and brought it to me. It was found near the spot where the stranger stood."

"What?" Steel started to his feet.

"Ah, you are beginning to see now!" said the old lady. "Yes, Steel, you may well look. Anne is innocent. On the evidence of this cross I believe that her father is not dead. He was the stranger; he killed Daisy, and because he was her father Anne aided him to escape."

CHAPTER VII

OLIVER MORLEY

In due time the body of Daisy Kent was buried. Her remains were laid by those of her father in the very churchyard about which she had complained to Giles a short time before the tragedy of her death. Ware being still ill, did not attend the funeral, but a large concourse of people from all parts of the county followed the coffin to the grave.

Morley was the chief mourner, and looked haggard, as was natural. Poor Mrs. Morley remained at home and wept. She did little else but weep in those days, poor soul!

When Mr. Drake had finished the service, and the grave was filled up, the crowd dispersed. There was a great deal of talk about the untimely death of the girl and the chances of her murderess being caught.

Everyone believed that Anne was guilty; but as Steel had kept his own counsel and Mrs. Parry held her tongue, no mention was made of the tall man.

The chatter of Cissy Jinks and Martha Gibbs certainly seemed to inculpate him in the matter, but only the villagers talked of this especial point. It never reached the ears of the reporters, and did not get into the papers. But the journals gave a good deal of s.p.a.ce to the affair, and hinted that it was what the French call "un crime pa.s.sional." Still, no paper was daring enough to hint at Giles and his presumed connection with the tragedy. It was merely stated that he had been engaged to the deceased girl, and felt her death so deeply, as was natural, that he had taken to his bed. Of course, this was an embellishment of facts, as Ware was simply laid up with an attack of pneumonia. But for the benefit of the public the journalists ascribed it to romantic and undying love. Giles, who was a matter-of-fact young Englishman, did not see these descriptions, or he would have been much disgusted at the sickly sentimentality.

Meantime no news was heard of Anne. It was not known that the tall stranger had been with her, for several people had seen the car pa.s.sing on its way to Tilbury. It was a lucky thought that had made Trim take that particular direction, and merely by chance that he had stumbled on the motor overthrown in a hedge. Evidently an accident had occurred, but no one was near at the time, as it took place some little distance from Tilbury and in a lonely part. But it was conjectured that the two occupants had proceeded on foot to Tilbury. A boatman was found who related that he had taken a lady and gentleman across to Gravesend, and that the gentleman walked a trifle lame. They landed on the Gravesend sh.o.r.e, and here the boatman lost sight of them. It was the lady who paid his fare, and he said that she appeared to be quite calm. He did not see the face of the man, but described that of Anne and her dress also.

There was no doubt but what she was the fugitive.

However, here the trail ended. Once in Gravesend, and all trace of the pair was lost. Steel made inquiries everywhere, but without success. The two might have got away in a ship, but this he could not learn. The night was foggy and dark, and no ship had gone out of the river, according to the boatmen. Steel could discover nothing, and resolved to throw up the case. But at the eleventh hour he stumbled on a clue, and followed it up. The result of his inquiries made him return at once to Rickwell, where he sought out Mr. Morley.

The little man had sent his wife and family away from The Elms, as the atmosphere of the house was melancholy in the extreme. Mrs. Morley, not averse to more cheerful surroundings, elected to go to Brighton with the triplets, and took two servants with her. Morley remained behind with a reduced staff, and promised to join her later. He desired to wait until he could see the detective. His wish was speedily gratified, for three days after the departure of his wife Steel made his appearance. Morley received him in the library.

"How do you do, sir?" said the detective, as they shook hands. "I am glad to see that you are looking better."

"I am getting over the shock," replied the other, "now that the poor child is buried; there is no use mourning further. I have sent my wife and family to Brighton and propose to follow myself in a day or so."

"I am lucky to have caught you, then?"

"What? Have you found any clue?"

"I think so. It is connected with the Scarlet Cross."

Morley, who was warming his hands over the fire, looked round eagerly, and his eyes flashed.

"I thought there was something in that reference. You remember the letter, Steel?"

"Yes. And I showed it to Mrs. Parry."

"To that meddlesome old woman. Why?"

"It's too long a matter to go into. But it was just as well I did. She gave me this little ornament."

Morley turned over the enamelled cross and examined it carefully.

"Humph! It is the kind of thing Miss Denham said was worn by her dead father."

"Exactly. Well, Mr. Morley, either the father is dead as she told you and that cross was worn by a stranger, or the man who called to see you here was the father."

"How do you make that out? What do you mean?" said Morley, and his face exhibited genuine amazement.

For answer Steel related what Mrs. Parry had told him about the discovery of the cross, and how she had put two and two together.

"And now, sir, you must see that in some way this stranger is connected with the crime. He called to see you. May I ask what you know of him?"

"Absolutely nothing," replied the other emphatically. "Wait! I must show you something." He rose and went to his desk. "Of course, I am telling you my private business," he added, opening a drawer, "so don't please speak about it."

"If it has nothing to do with the murder I won't; but if----"

"Pshaw! that is all right, I know as much about these things as you do.

However, we can talk of that later. Meantime cast your eye over that,"

and he placed a doc.u.ment on the table.

"A judgment summons for five hundred pounds," said Steel, with a whistle. "Did he serve this?"

"Yes," replied Morley, returning to his seat with a gloomy face. "You will see that it is dated three days before he came to me. I have outrun the constable, and have the greatest difficulty in keeping my head above water. This man--I don't know his name--said that he came from those solicitors----"

"'Asher, Son, and Asher,'" read out the detective.

Morley nodded. "Of twenty-two, St. Audrey's Inn. A firm of sharpers I call them. The money has certainly been owing a long time, but I offered to pay off the sum by degrees. They refused, and insist upon immediate payment. If they would only wait until the war is over, my South African shares would go up and there would be a chance of settling the matter.

But they will not wait. I expect a bankruptcy notice next."

"I am very sorry for you, Mr. Morley, and of course, I shall not betray the confidence you have placed in me; but the point is, what is the name of the man who served this?"

"I don't know; I never asked him his name. He entered by the front door and served this here. I sent him out by the window, so that the servants should not see him again. He had the look of a sheriff's officer, and one can't be too careful here. I believe Mrs. Parry pays my servants to tell her what goes on in my house. I didn't want her to learn about this summons."

"I can easily understand that," replied the detective; "and I see now why you let the man out by the window. You left the room with him?"