"And so could I," said Dr. Barnard. "It's a case for a wiser head than mine."

"It's a case for the detectives," said Dr. Bethel, firmly. "If this unknown foe thinks to drive me from Trafton, he must try other measures.

I intend to remain, and to solve this mystery."

A moment's silence followed this decided announcement.

The old doctor nodded his approval, his daughter looked hers.

Miss Manvers sat with eyes fixed upon a spot in the carpet, biting nervously at her full red under lip, and tapping the floor with the toe of her dainty boot.

I had no desire to take a prominent part in the discussion which followed, and became as much as I could a mere observer, but, as after events proved, I made very good use of my eyes that night.

Having exhausted the subject of the grave robbery without arriving at any new conclusions, the social old doctor proposed a game of whist, cards being his chief source of evening pastime. The game was made up, Miss Manvers taking a seat opposite Dr. Barnard, and Dr. Bethel playing with Mrs. Barnard.

After watching their game for a time, Miss Barnard and myself retired to the piano. She sang several songs in a tender contralto, to a soft, well-rendered accompaniment, and as I essayed my thanks and ventured to praise her singing, she lifted her clear eyes to mine, saying, in an undertone:

"Don't think me odd, or too curious--but--will you answer a question--frankly?"

I promised, recklessly; and she ran her pretty fingers over the keys, drowning our voices, for other ears, under the soft ripple of the notes, while she questioned and I replied.

"As a stranger, and an unprejudiced person," she began, "how does this shameful charge against Dr. Bethel appear to you? Judging him as men judge men, do you think he _could_ be guilty of such a deed?"

"Judging him by my limited knowledge of human nature," I replied, "I should say that Dr. Bethel is incapable of baseness in any form. In this case, he is certainly innocent."

She looked thoughtfully down at the white, gliding fingers, and said:

"We have seen so much of Dr. Bethel since he came to Trafton, that he seems quite like an old friend, and because of his being a.s.sociated with father, it makes his trouble almost a personal matter. I do hope it will end without further complications."

She looked up in my face as if hoping that my judgment accorded with her wish, but I made no reply, finding silence easier and pleasanter than equivocation when dealing with a nature so frank and fearlessly truthful.

The game of whist being at an end, Miss Manvers arose almost immediately and declared it time to go. She had sent her phaeton home, her house being less than a quarter of a mile from Dr. Barnard's, and according to the custom of informal Trafton, I promptly offered myself as escort, and was promptly and smilingly accepted.

"What a day this has been," said Miss Manvers, as the doctor's iron gate closed behind us. "Such a terrible charge to bring against Dr. Bethel.

Do you really think," and, spite her evident intention to make the question sound common-place, I could detect the genuine anxiety in it, "Do you really think that it will--injure his practice to the extent of--driving him from Trafton?"

"You heard what he said, Miss Manvers."

"Oh, yes--but if I am rightly informed, Dr. Bethel is, in a measure at least, dependent on his practice. Is not this so?"

"You are better advised than I, Miss Manvers; I know so little of Dr.

Bethel."

"And yet you were his warmest champion to-day."

"I a.s.sure you I felt quite cool," I laughed. "I should have done as much for the merest stranger, under the same circ.u.mstances."

"Then you are not prejudiced in his favor?"

"I am not prejudiced at all. I like Bethel."

"And so do I," replied the heiress, heartily, "and I like the spirit he shows in this matter. Is not this--a--exhuming of a subject, a frequent occurrence?"

"Undoubtedly."

"I mean--is it not often done by medical men?"

"By them, or persons employed by them. I suppose so."

She drew a little nearer, lifting an earnest face to meet my gaze.

"Candidly, now," she said, "as if I were not Miss Manvers, but a man to be trusted. Do you think it impossible that Dr. Bethel has done this thing? Viewed from a scientific and practical standpoint, does such a deed appear to you to be the horrible thing _some_ seem to think it?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Candidly, now," she said, "as if I were not Miss Manvers, but a man to be trusted. Do you think it impossible that Dr.

Bethel has done this thing?"--page 129.]

What spirit prompted my answer? I never knew just what impelled me, but I looked down into the pretty, upturned face, looked straight into the dark, liquid eyes, and answered:

"Candidly, Miss Manvers--as you are certainly as much to be trusted as if you were a man--when I went to Bethel's defense, I went supposing that, for the benefit of science and the possible good of his fellow-beings, he _had_ exhumed the body."

She drew a short, quick breath.

"And you have changed your opinion?" she half a.s.serted, half inquired.

I laid the fingers of my gloved left hand lightly upon hers, as it rested on my arm, and bent lower toward the glowing brunette face as I answered:

"I have not said so."

She dropped her eyes and mused for a moment, then--

"Do you think he will _actually_ call in a detective--to--to make his innocence seem more probable?"

"I hope he will not," I replied, sincerely this time, but with a hidden meaning.

"I don't think that Mr. Beale will desire further investigation. The matter will die out, undoubtedly. Mr. Barnard is a man of powerful influence in the community, and 'Squire Brookhouse will use _his_ influence in behalf of Dr. Bethel, I am sure." Then, looking up again, quickly: "Do you not admire Miss Barnard?"

"Miss Barnard is 'a thing of beauty,'" I rejoined, sententiously; then, with a downward glance that pointed my sentence, "I admire all lovely women."

She laughed lightly, but said no more of Miss Barnard, or Dr. Bethel, and we parted with some careless badinage, supplemented by her cordial hope that I would prolong my stay in Trafton, and that she should see me often at The Hill.

Going slowly homeward, through the August darkness, I mentally voted the treasure-ship heiress a clever, agreeable, and charming young lady, and spent some time in trying to decide whether her delightful cordiality was a token that I had pleased, or only amused her. Such is the vanity of man!

I found Carnes wide awake, smoking and waiting.

"Have ye done wid yer gallivantin'?" queried he, the instant I made my appearance. "Now, thin, be shquare; which is the purtyest gurl?"

"How do you know there were two, sir?"

"Inshtinct," he retorted, shamelessly. "I knew by the peculiar feelin'

av the cords av me arums. I say, what a thunderin' lot o' snarly bushes old Barnyard kapes about his windys!"