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Updated: May 17, 2025
"I only heard yesterday of your engagement, Miss Leithcourt," I remarked presently when we were alone. "Allow me to offer my best congratulations. When you introduced me to Mr. Woodroffe the other day I had no idea that he was to be your husband." She glanced at me quickly, and I saw in her dark eyes a look of suspicion. Then she flushed slightly, and laughing uneasily said, in a blank, hard voice
"The Carmichaels are very thick with the Leithcourts, I hear," my uncle remarked. "Strange they didn't ask Leithcourt to their shoot." "They did, but he'd got another engagement over at Kenmure Castle, I think." I retired to my room that night full of fevered apprehension. Had I acted rightly in not returning to that lonely spot on the brow of the hill?
At the spot was found a tiny miniature cross of one of the Russian orders of chivalry the Cross of Saint Anne." "There is no suspicion upon Leithcourt?" she asked with some undue anxiety I thought. "No." "Did he entertain any guests at the shooting-box?" "A good many." "No foreigners among them?" "I never met any. They seemed all people from London a smart set for the most part."
"But if we succeed in finding it, could we place our hand upon the assassin?" I asked, looking straight at her. "If we find it, the crime would then tell its own tale it would convict the person in whose hand I have seen that fatal weapon," was her clear, bold answer. "Then you wish me to assist you in this search, Miss Leithcourt?"
I inquired anxiously. "No. Only he sighed, and looked steadily for a long time at the photograph. I saw his lips moving, but his words were inaudible." "You haven't any idea of the reason why he called upon Mr. Leithcourt, I suppose?" "From what he said, I've formed my own conclusions," was her answer. "And what is your opinion?"
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