'I can't help it, the feeling's there. If you try all night you'll never be able to argue me out of it. I feel it in every bone of my body. I couldn't be more certain if I saw Margaret lying dead in front of me.'

Susie saw that it was indeed useless to reason with him. The only course was to accept his conviction and make the best of it.

'What do you want us to do?' she asked.

'I want you both to come to England with me at once. If we start now we can catch the evening train.'

Susie did not answer, but she got up. She touched the doctor on the arm.

'Please come,' she whispered.

He nodded and untucked the napkin he had already arranged over his waistcoat.

'I've got a cab at the door,' said Arthur.

'And what about clothes for Miss Susie?' said the doctor.

'Oh, we can't wait for that,' cried Arthur. 'For G.o.d's sake, come quickly.'

Susie knew that there was plenty of time to fetch a few necessary things before the train started, but Arthur's impatience was too great to be withstood.

'It doesn't matter,' she said. 'I can get all I want in England.'

He hurried them to the door and told the cabman to drive to the station as quickly as ever he could.

'For Heaven's sake, calm down a little,' said Susie. 'You'll be no good to anyone in that state.'

'I feel certain we're too late.'

'Nonsense! I'm convinced that you'll find Margaret safe and sound.'

He did not answer. He gave a sigh of relief as they drove into the courtyard of the station.

14

Susie never forgot the horror of that journey to England. They arrived in London early in the morning and, without stopping, drove to Euston. For three or four days there had been unusual heat, and even at that hour the streets were sultry and airless. The train north was crowded, and it seemed impossible to get a breath of air. Her head ached, but she was obliged to keep a cheerful demeanour in the effort to allay Arthur's increasing anxiety. Dr Porhoet sat in front of her. After the sleepless night his eyes were heavy and his face deeply lined. He was exhausted.

At length, after much tiresome changing, they reached Venning. She had expected a greater coolness in that northern country; but there was a hot blight over the place, and, as they walked to the inn from the little station, they could hardly drag their limbs along.

Arthur had telegraphed from London that they must have rooms ready, and the landlady expected them. She recognized Arthur. He pa.s.sionately desired to ask her whether anything had happened since he went away, but forced himself to be silent for a while. He greeted her with cheerfulness.

'Well, Mrs Smithers, what has been going on since I left you?' he cried.

'Of course you wouldn't have heard, sir,' she answered gravely.

He began to tremble, but with an almost superhuman effort controlled his voice.

'Has the squire hanged himself?' he asked lightly.

'No sir--but the poor lady's dead.'

He did not answer. He seemed turned to stone. He stared with ghastly eyes.

'Poor thing!' said Susie, forcing herself to speak. 'Was it--very sudden?'

The woman turned to Susie, glad to have someone with whom to discuss the event. She took no notice of Arthur's agony.

'Yes, mum; no one expected it. She died quite sudden like. She was only buried this morning.'

'What did she die of?' asked Susie, her eyes on Arthur.

She feared that he would faint. She wanted enormously to get him away, but did not know how to manage it.

'They say it was heart disease,' answered the landlady. 'Poor thing! It's a happy release for her.'

'Won't you get us some tea, Mrs Smithers? We're very tired, and we should like something immediately.'

'Yes, miss. I'll get it at once.'

The good woman bustled away. Susie quickly locked the door. She seized Arthur's arm.

'Arthur, Arthur.'

She expected him to break down. She looked with agony at Dr Porhoet, who stood helplessly by.

'You couldn't have done anything if you'd been here. You heard what the woman said. If Margaret died of heart disease, your suspicions were quite without ground.'

He shook her away, almost violently.

'For G.o.d's sake, speak to us,' cried Susie.

His silence terrified her more than would have done any outburst of grief. Dr Porhoet went up to him gently.

'Don't try to be brave, my friend. You will not suffer as much if you allow yourself a little weakness.'

'For Heaven's sake leave me alone!' said Arthur, hoa.r.s.ely.

They drew back and watched him silently. Susie heard their hostess come along to the sitting-room with tea, and she unlocked the door. The landlady brought in the things. She was on the point of leaving them when Arthur stopped her.

'How do you know that Mrs Haddo died of heart disease?' he asked suddenly.

His voice was hard and stern. He spoke with a peculiar abruptness that made the poor woman look at him in amazement.

'Dr Richardson told me so.'

'Had he been attending her?'