that she had already fled.
The mystery as to who had attacked me was still unsolved. If it wereLogan, then was it not probable that she was aware of the blow that hadbeen dealt me? The circumstances, indeed, pointed to the fact that, inthe murder of Marie Lejeune, she was at least an accomplice.
That day I begged the doctors to allow me to go forth, but they wereinexorable. Therefore for yet another day was I compelled to remainthere in anxious uncertainty although free from the irritating presenceof the guard.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
GIVES THE KEYWORD.
Still very unwell, my head gave me excruciating pain when next morning Ijoyfully took my discharge from the hospital. My first destination wasthe telegraph-office, whence I sent a message to Lolita, and afterwardsI went to the _Cavour_, where I found that, in consequence of myprotracted absence, my bag had been taken from my room.
However, I soon had another apartment, although the hotel people lookedaskance at my bandaged head, and after a wash and a change of clothes, Iwent forth to the Questore, as I had arranged to meet my friend the_delegato_ to whom I had so fortunately spoken in Biffi's.
In his upstairs room he explained how he had circulated the descriptionof the two men, Belotto and Ostini, to the various cities and to thefrontiers, and how, owing to the pair being so well-known as badcharacters, he felt certain of their arrest. That day I attended theofficial inquiry regarding the death of the woman Lejeune, and aftergiving some formal evidence, was allowed to leave.
My great fear had been that Marigold and Logan might be arrested. If sothe arrest of the former must produce a terrible scandal, and if thelatter the result, I feared, must reflect upon my love's good name. Myonly hope, therefore, was that they had already passed the frontierpolice at Modane, Ventimiglia or Chiasso, and had escaped from Italy.
The chief of police was very emphatic in his order that I must remain inMilan for an indefinite period, as perhaps my evidence would be wantedagainst the men, but after consultation with Mr Martin Johnson, nowmost active on my behalf, because he hoped to obtain the good-will of mycousin, his chief, I resolved to disobey the mandate of the Questore andslip away from Italy in secret. I was not under arrest, hence thepolice had no power to detain me.
Therefore, travelling by Turin, Modane and Paris, I arrived at CharingCross at dawn three days later, and took train at once to Sibberton.
What had happened during my absence I feared to guess. On entering myroom at the Hall at noon, I found my table piled with the accumulatedcorrespondence. I had before my departure from London telegraphed tothe Earl my intention of taking a fortnight's holiday, therefore myabsence had not been remarked. Only Keene and Lolita knew the truth.
I rang the bell, and old Slater appeared.
"Is his lordship hunting this morning?" I inquired.
"No, sir," responded the aged retainer, surely a model servant. "He'sacross with her ladyship at the stables looking at some new horses."
"How long has her ladyship been back?"
"She returned from London yesterday, sir."
"And Lady Lolita?"
"Her ladyship has gone in the motor to luncheon at Deene, sir. LadyMaud Dallas, and one of the other visitors, a lady, are with her."
With that I dismissed the servant, and walking down the corridor wentout into the wide courtyard, through the servants' quarters and round tothe left wing of the house to the great stables where there were stallsfor a hundred horses.
The stablemen and grooms in their jerseys of hunting red always gave apicturesque touch of colour to the huge grey old place, and I saw in acorner of the great paved yard, the Earl with a small group of hisvisitors watching a fine bay mare being paraded by a groom.
One of the traditions of the Stanchesters was to keep good horses, andGeorge spared no expense to maintain the high standard of hisforefathers. He had three motors, but Marigold used them more than hedid because they were the fashion.
She had learnt to drive herself, and would often drive up to London,eighty-five miles, accompanied by Jacques, the French chauffeur. Intown, too, she had an electric brougham in which she paid afternooncalls and did her shopping. Indeed her motor brougham with yellowwheels was a common object in Regent Street in the season.
"Hulloa, Willoughby!" cried the Earl as I approached. "Didn't know youwere back?"
"I'm a day or so earlier than I expected," I laughed, at the same timesaluting the woman whose adventure in Milan had undoubtedly been astrangely tragic one, as well as Keene and the other guests.
"Why, what's the matter with your head?" asked old Lord Cotterstock,noticing a bandage upon it as I raised my straw hat.
"Oh, nothing very much," I answered then. "I slipped on the kerb in theStrand, fell back, and struck it rather badly. But it's getting better.The unsightliness of the plaster is its worst part."
I dared not glance at Marigold as I uttered this excuse. I felt surethat she was aware of the attack made upon me--whether it had been byLogan or any one else.
The colour had left her cheeks when her startled eyes encountered me,and she glared at me as though I were a ghost. By that alone I knewthat my re-appearance there was utterly unexpected--in truth, that shebelieved that I was dead!
She had turned away from the party at once, to speak with the stud-groomin order to conceal her dismay. Her face had, in an instant, assumed adeath-like pallor, and I saw how anxious she was to escape me. Thoughshe made a desperate effort to remain calm and to face me, she wasunable, for her attitude in itself betrayed her guilty knowledge.
I saw in her face sufficient to convince me of the truth. She managedto move away, still giving instructions to the man, while I remainedwith the party watching the cantering of the horse on show. Every manor woman present there was a judge of a horse, for all were huntingpeople and knew what, in stable parlance in the Midlands, is known as "agood bit of stuff" when they saw it.
Presently when the decision was given, I moved away with Keene, and assoon as we were alone in the pleasure-garden I told him quickly of mystartling adventure. He stood open-mouthed.
"Then the woman Lejeune is actually dead," he gasped, his brows knitthoughtfully. "The Italians must have murdered her!"
"Undoubtedly," I said, recollecting that he was acquainted with them,for had not one of them, if not both, been in concealment at Hayes'sFarm.
"Well," he sighed. "This means, I'm afraid, the worst to Lolita."
"Ah! no!" I cried. "Don't say that. We must save her! We must! If Icould only know the truth I feel sure I could devise some means by whichshe could be extricated from this perilous position."
"No," he answered sadly. "I think not. The assassination of that womantells me that the conspiracy is a more daring and formidable one than Ihad even imagined."
"But what connexion could Marigold or Logan have had with the affair?"I asked. "What is your theory? Why did they travel there in secret?If Marigold was to be their victim, then I could understand it; but shewas not."
"It seems evident she was taken out to Milan by Logan in order to meetMarie in secret," he said.
"But if the murder was not pre-arranged, why should they have takenpossession of a dwelling that was not their own? That fact, in itself,shows that their object was a sinister one," I argued.
"Stanchester believes that his wife has been at Bray with her sisterSibyl. He has no idea she's been abroad."
"And Logan? What of him?"
"I know nothing," he declared. "He is probably still abroad. My ownidea is that he crossed the Channel in order to meet Marigold and escorther to Italy."
"Then the affair is as great a mystery as it ever was?" I remarked withdissatisfaction. I had risked my life and narrowly escaped being placedon trial for murder--all to no purpose.
"Greater," he said. "For my own part I cannot see what they've gainedby sealing Marie's lips. I know," he added, "that Belotto made anattempt upon her during her stay at the farm in this vicinity, but the
ywere prevented."
"Who prevented them?" I inquired eagerly, as this was the first time hehad admitted knowledge of their concealment at the farm to which Pinkhad been called on that fateful night.
"Well, as a matter of fact," he answered, looking me straight in theface, "I did."
"You!" I cried.
"Yes," he responded. "Belotto, who was madly jealous of her, took herfor a walk in the wood on purpose, I believe, to get rid of her.Fortunately, however, I had suspicion of his intention, and followedhim. Just as she was struck, I emerged and denounced him, but too late.He then attacked me, but I defended myself. Then fearing the girlwould die, the others did all they could to succour her, as they dreadedthat by her death they
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