papers how the firm to whom I had entrusted the business had failed in their attempt to remove his abominable stepmother.
"I hope," he said timidly, "that you did not take a hand in it yourself."
"I?" I cried. "Good heavens, my dear chap, I'm a respectable and rising young barrister! I couldn't do such things! Why, I haven't been out of London!"
"I'm very pleased to hear that," he said quickly. "I was afraid you might be in danger."
I was touched by his thought for me.
"I'm in no danger," I said. "But what do you mean by the attempt having failed?"
"Hasn't it?" he said, brightening. "This morning's paper said she had recovered."
"That's true enough. But every one in Hardstone believes that she attempted her own life and is suffering from suicidal and homicidal mania. A bottle of chloroform, or rather an empty bottle which had held chloroform, and a letter in her own handwriting declaring her intention of committing suicide, were found near the spot on which she alleges she was assaulted. Moreover, she asserts that one of the masked men who assaulted her was the Vicar of Hardstone."
"Old Toombes? What nonsense!"
"Exactly. The whole story of the assault is nonsense. But all her neighbors are living in ut-
