"Thought it might be," rejoined Burgh coolly, "anyhow there was no harm in trying. I found the tie, and went out with it, thinking you be pretty sick when you found it gone. I went into the card-room where old Forge was cheating I guess, and had a yarn along o'him. He just roared when I showed him the tie, for he hates you like pie."

"What's that?" asked Rupert sharply, "you are mistaken."

"I guess not. That old man would have been glad to see you scragged, Mr.

Ainsleigh. He asked me to let him have the tie--"

"What for?"

Burgh shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say. But I let him have it anyhow. I wasn't in a position to refuse. Y'see Ainsleigh I'm not a holy Bill and--"

"And Forge knows a few of your escapades likely to land you in--"

"Y'needn't say the word," interrupted Burgh in his turn, "t'isn't a pretty one. But I guess Forge could make things hot for me if he liked, so that was why I lay low when I saw the tie round the old girl's throat. I guessed then, Forge had scragged her and boned the fan. I asked him about it, and he lied like billeo. Said he'd lost the tie, and never touched the old 'un. Then he said if I made any fuss, he'd tell the police about--"

"About what?" asked Ainsleigh, seeing the man hesitate.

"Huh," replied Burgh, uncomfortably, "I guess that's my business. I told you I wasn't a saint."

"I suspect you're a thorough paced gaol-bird."

"No, I ain't been in quod. Where I cavorted round, in the Naked Lands, they don't shove a man in chokey for every trifle."

"Such as murder. Eh?"

"I haven't murdered anyone yet," confessed Clarence, easily, "but one never knows. But I told about Forge last night, as I wanted to get this thousand. Now I'll try for the fan, and see if I can't get the fifteen thousand to come my way. If Forge cuts up rough, I'll light out with what I have"--he slapped his pockets--"for Callao," and he began to sing the old song:--

"On no occasion, is extradition, Allowed in Callao."

And I know a daisy of a girl out there," said the scamp, winking.

Ainsleigh was too disgusted to speak. He felt that as he was as big a ruffian as Burgh, to tolerate this conversation, and he was relieved when the train steamed into Marport station. As soon as it stopped he jumped out, and nodding to his companion, he was about to take his leave, when Clarence stopped him. "Say. You won't round on Forge till I get this fan business settled."

"I intend to write to Rodgers to-day," said Ainsleigh, tartly, "bad as your aunt is, she shan't marry that scoundrel if I can help it."

"But I only know Forge got the scarf as I told you. He mightn't have scragged her y'know. He says he didn't."

"And relied on what he knows of you to keep things quiet. No, Mr. Burgh, I intend to have the man arrested," and Rupert turned away, while Clarence, apparently not at all disturbed, went away whistling his Callao ditty.

Rupert drove to Royabay and was welcomed with joy by his wife. She was much alarmed when she saw his condition, and was very angry when he told of his danger. She made him lie down, and bathed the wound, of which Rupert made light. "It's nothing, dear," he said.

"It might be dangerous. There might have been poison on that knife, Rupert. You know what the Chinese are."

"No, Olivia, I certainly don't. All this business of the fan and the G.o.d Kw.a.n.g-ho is most ridiculous."

"Tell me all about it," said Olivia, when she had placed a tray, with tea and toast, before him.

"I shall do so at once, as I want your advice," and Rupert related all that had occurred from the time of his meeting with Clarence Burgh in the train on the previous night. Olivia listened in silence. "Well,"

asked Rupert, drinking his tea, "what do you think?"

"I think Mr. Burgh is a scoundrel."

"Anyone can see that!"

"And worthy of his aunt."

"Perhaps. She's a bad one that Miss Pewsey, but she may not know what a rascal she has for a relative. And at all events, I can't let her marry Forge. Do you believe he is guilty?"

"He might be," said Olivia cautiously, "but I would much rather believe that Burgh gave the tie to his aunt and that she strangled aunt Sophia."

Rupert laughed. "What a vindictive person you are dearest," said he.

"Miss Pewsey is bad but not so bad as that."

"I'd credit her with anything," said Olivia, who was truly feminine in her detestation of Miss Pewsey. "She has insulted me for years, and put aunt Sophia against me, and caused me to lose the money."

"Well--well," said Rupert soothingly, "let us think the best of her--she has her good points."

"Where are they--what are they? She is a--no," Olivia checked herself and looked penitent, "I really must not give way to such unworthy feelings. I'll try and think the best of her, and I agree with you darling, that she must not marry Dr. Forge."

"Do you think I should write to Rodgers?"

"Certainly. The marriage must be stopped. Write to-day."

But Rupert did not write that day, for the simple reason that the wound on his arm grew very painful, and he became delirious. The doctor who was called in, said that there was poison in the blood and then Olivia was alarmed lest Rupert should lose his arm, and perhaps his life.

However, the doctor was young and clever and by careful treatment he drew out the poison and in a few days, the young man's arm had resumed its normal condition, and his brain again became clear. Then he wrote a letter to Rodgers asking him to come down to Royabay on a matter connected with the murder of his wife's aunt. After the letter had been posted, Rupert went out for a walk with his wife, and strolled round the grounds. As the two crossed the lawn admiring the beauty of the day which was bright and clear and slightly frosty, Mrs. Petley appeared, coming up the avenue. She made straight for the young couple.

"Please Master Rupert, that gent's called again."

"What, Mr. Burgh?" said Olivia, and then in answer to her husband's enquiring look she explained. "He has called for the last three days, dear, since you were ill. I never told you, as I thought it might worry you."

"And he just called to ask how you were, Master Rupert," said the old housekeeper, "and never come nearer than the lodge, as old Payne can testify. I told him you were out walking and he asked if he could come in and see you."

"Certainly," said Rupert--then, when Mrs. Petley hurried away, he turned to Olivia. "Burgh simply wants to find out if I have communicated with Rodgers. He's frightened for his own skin."

Shortly Mrs. Petley returned with the information that Mr. Burgh was nowhere to be seen. This did not trouble Rupert who thought that the buccaneer (always of an impatient disposition) might have grown tired of waiting. With Olivia, he strolled round the grounds for thirty minutes and at length entered the ruins of the Abbey. Here the first thing they saw, was Mr. Clarence Burgh seated on a stone under the copper beech. He jumped up and came forward, with his usual grace and invariable impudence.

"Glad to see you out again, Ainsleigh," said he taking off his hat, "and you look well, Mrs. Ainsleigh--just like a picture."

"Thank you," replied Olivia, concealing her dislike with difficulty, "you wish to see my husband I presume."

"Just for two shakes," said Clarence easily, "say old man, what about Forge. Are y' going to round on him?"

Rupert nodded, "I have written to Rodgers to-day. But I'll give him this chance of escape--warn him if you like."

"Not me," said Burgh coldly, "every man for his own durned skin--begging your pardon Mrs. Ainsleigh. I saw him while you were trying for Kingdom Come, and told him that he'd the fan."

"What did he say?"

"Gave me the lie. Swore he'd been in the card-room between eleven and twelve, and never saw the old girl. Said he'd had enough of the fan, as it had nearly caused his death. Then he said he'd split on me if I gave him away."