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This morning I'll flash the night escape signal to Miss Atheson. She'll be ready to leave, and you may be sure she'll find a way to warn us if the guard is still around. To-night you make an excuse to the Padre and slip away. He's going to see a friend anyhow at the University out in Brookland. I heard him say so. Tell him not to worry if you happen to be out when he comes back.
The priest passed off the unthought irreverence without notice. "I'll go and see him now, Ann. The man may be very sick. Get me my hat. I left it in my bedroom when I came in last night from O'Leary's." Ann gave him his hat at the door, with another bit of information. "Miss Atheson telephoned for me to ask ye to drop in to Killimaga on yer way back. Ye'll be stayin' fer lunch, as they call it?"
"I saw that lady, Ruth Atheson or the Duchess, whichever she is, and the other. I made no mistake. I know for sure. The lady of the tree is on this train." It was very late when Mark and Saunders retired to their berths. Father Murray was already sleeping; they could hear his deep, regular breathing as they passed his section.
The two passed across the lawn, then down the street and along the road toward the great house whose towers looked out over the trees. Neither Mark nor the priest said a word until the town was well behind them. Then Father Murray turned to his companion. "You will find Miss Atheson a remarkable woman, Mr. Griffin.
Then the name "Atheson" sounded insistently in his ears and, momentarily, he felt that he was almost grasping the clue as he strove to remember. As he entered the library, his secretary stood up, a yellow paper in his hands. "I have been waiting to hand this to you personally, Excellency." The Minister took the paper. It was a cablegram translated from code, which read: "The Duke is dead.
And yes, it was just after that that the picture had disappeared from his desk. "It is best," had been Donald Murray's only comment. The Bishop remembered now. And he knew why Monsignore had looked so surprised and reproachful when asked to give his "full" confidence regarding Ruth Atheson.
Where she gets the money is beyond me." "You Americans are all rich," said Mark. "You English think we are, but you only see the gang that goes over to the other side every summer. There's one Atheson family in America worth millions, but I know that crowd; she doesn't belong to it. I don't know what Atheson family she does belong to.
Mark, watching closely to note the effect of his words, saw the face before him whiten. "The constable with him?" "And I am confident that the other man is a detective. I feel sure he thinks Miss Atheson is someone he has been commissioned to find. And they evidently think that I am in the matter to defend the lady.
It is quite in line with what I expected. They had to get her somehow. The way they are supposed to have taken would probably look the best way to them." "'Supposed to have taken? What do you mean?" "Easy now, I'm coming to that. This lady cannot be the Duchess and Ruth Atheson at the same time." "Decidedly not." "She is one or the other." "Well?"
Unless I am mistaken, his pockets are inside out right now. The powder marks alone are enough to fasten suspicion on you. Then, you were absent all day, and someone certainly must have seen you on the bluff road. Above all, you love Ruth Atheson, and lovers have been known to kill rivals. My detective intuition tells me, Griffin, that you stand a good chance of being charged with murder."
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