He came out, shaking himself like a water dog.

"Ugh!" he exclaimed. "I have been in one position too long."

"I am sorry," began Constance.

"Not for me," he interrupted. "Like most listeners, I heard what I did not bargain for; but--I have not heard too much. Miss Wardour, don't reproach yourself, or Fate; that little extra hearing was a G.o.dsend.

And now, let me out, quickly, before some one else claims your time."

She looked cautiously out into the hall, then closed the door again.

"I wish I could know your opinion regarding this business--all of it,"

she said, wistfully. "I begin to feel helpless, like a rudderless mariner."

"It's a hard knot," he said, going toward the door; "a very hard knot.

But we will untie it, Miss Wardour, and then you will understand all these things. Now tell me, where is your detective going next?"

"I do not know."

"You must find out," imperatively.

"I think I can."

"And come to me in the garden."

"Very well," looking out once more. "Your way is clear, sir; go straight to the kitchen entrance."

He pa.s.sed out, and went his way, swiftly, quietly, and un.o.bserved; and Constance returned to Mr. Belknap, and the completion of her jewel list.

"The combat deepens," mused the tramp detective, as he paced slowly down the garden walk. "The plot, thickens. I come for a catfish,--I may catch a whale. Oh, what a knot; what a beautiful, delightful, horribly hard knot; and how my fingers itch to begin at it. But soft--easy; there is more to be tied in. Let us pay out the rope, and wait."

CHAPTER X.

EVAN.

Miss Wardour and the private detective had just completed their work of transferring to paper a minute description of the Wardour diamonds, when the door opened quietly, and Francis Lamotte, pale, heavy-eyed, but quite composed, appeared before them.

"Have you finished your work?" he asked wearily. "If so, may I intrude?"

"Come, by all means," replied Constance, gently. "You are not intruding, Frank."

"Thank you." He came forward, and sank listlessly into a chair.

"Constance, who brought you this news about--Sybil?"

Constance glanced toward the detective, and Francis, interpreting the look, hastened to say:

"It is known to Mr. Belknap, I presume--this shameful business. There is no use of secrecy, where all the world is already agape. My sister, you tell me, has eloped with a low brute. I am numbed with the horror of it.

But I must hear it all; every word, every particular. Who brought you the news, Constance?"

"Doctor Heath," replied the girl, icily.

"Ah!"

The interjection came through shut teeth, and just for a moment the dark shadow flitted across his features; then he said, with quiet composure:

"Heath? ah, yes; and he gave you all the particulars,--all that he had gathered?"

"Doctor Heath told me all that he had learned," she replied, still coldly.

Frank Lamotte arose slowly, wearily.

"I must see Heath," he said, taking up his hat. "It is small wonder that you speak so frostily to the brother of a girl who has disgraced herself, Constance. However, I realize my fall; henceforth, I know my place."

The detective arose and moved uneasily to the window.

"I am sorry to hear this absurdity, Frank," said Constance, with some severity. "You know my position always in these matters; only yourself can injure yourself in my eyes; and I am sorry to hear you speak thus of Sybil. I have yet to be convinced that in some manner, she is not more a victim than disloyal. _I_ have not condemned her; why should you, her brother?"

A hot flush came over the young man's face, and his eyes glowed with a strange light. He shifted his position uneasily; then, abruptly, he turned to the detective.

"If under the circ.u.mstances, and having seen my mood, you care to accept my hospitality, it is still extended, sir," he said, somewhat awkwardly; "will you accompany me to town, and afterwards lunch with me?"

"I will accompany you to the town," replied the detective, coming back from the window; "but I fear I must decline your hospitality for to-day; another time, perhaps."

Francis bowed stiffly, then turned to Constance.

"Constance, good bye," he said, mournfully, and holding out his hand. "I will not displease you again; I will keep at a safe distance."

"You will displease me by doing that," she replied, kindly, at the same time extending her hand. "I mean by staying away; I want you to come often, and to bring me any news that may come from Sybil. Remember, I intend to be her champion, and you must be mine."

"Then I _may_ come as a bringer of news?" he asked.

"You may come as usual," she retorted, a trifle sharply, "and come _especially_ when there is news."

"Thank you;" he bowed over her hand, then turned to the private detective.

"Good morning, Miss Wardour," said that individual, coming forward; "it is probable that I shall not see you again, as I will leave for the city this evening, but you will hear from me as the case progresses, or it is possible that I may find it expedient to pay this place another visit."

"In which case, you will of course present yourself," smiled Constance.

"May I ask where you intend to pa.s.s your time until you leave for the city, sir?"

"I can hardly say; about the town, as it may happen."

"Ah! Pardon the question; I was thinking of the business in hand; you can hardly hope to find anything new in the village."

"One can never tell, Miss Wardour. If I do learn anything new, you shall hear from me. Present my adieus to Mrs. Aliston, and once more good day."