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Updated: July 9, 2025
"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me." "Oh." Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, has she?" "Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service." Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greeby really had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it was a relief to find that she had been acting honestly.
But Lambert had forced his cousin's hand, and Silver had been brought to book, with the result that the young man now sat in his room at the inn, quite convinced that Miss Greeby was guilty, yet wondering what motive had led her to act in such a murderous way. Also, Lambert wondered what was best to be done, in order to save the family name.
"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?" "Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since he owes everything to me." Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experience should believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may be certain that for my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keep Lambert from seeking your wife.
"Well," drawled Miss Greeby, puffing luxuriously at her cigarette, which was Turkish and soothing, "nothing may turn into something when these mortgages are cleared off." "Who is going to clear them off?" "Sir Hubert Pine."
"Not that I know oh," she stopped suddenly and grew as white as the widow's cap she wore. "Oh," she said blankly. "What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have you thought of any one?" Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I can think of no one," she said in a low voice.
If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might run away with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to your interest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby." "I tell you Lambert loves me," cried the woman doggedly, trying to persuade her heart that she spoke truly.
Of course, you'll marry her since the barrier has been removed?" "Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widow and I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose her money by becoming my wife." Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will," she said, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it.
Then she dropped a curtsey whether ironical or not, Miss Greeby could not tell and disappeared into the tent, followed by the white cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it to be.
Things were now more ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of her crime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes of Lord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the débris of the cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, and Silver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave.
"Now that he has lost this weapon" Agnes touched her pocket "he can't." "Well" Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up "just as you please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in my hands." "I think not," rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again, and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself." "Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?"
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