where the servants were cowering and whispering together, frightened and bewildered.
"Is there any paint or varnish of any sort in the place?" he asked sharply. "Give me anything there is—black, if possible—and a brush, quickly."
"There's—there's Brunswick black, sir, for the stove," said the cook.
"That will do; be quick. Oh, there's Gipps, the gardener! You're just the man I want, Gipps. Come and find me a board or a plank, quick as you please!" And Hewitt pushed the old gardener before him into the garden by the kitchen door.
•••••
A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Everard Myatt, having heard all that was to be told of his friend's terrible death and the arrest of Mr. Lawson, turned to go, meeting Hewitt at the study door on his way.
"And how is poor Miss Creswick by now, doctor?" he asked anxiously.
Hewitt shook his head. " No better than you could expect," he said, "but, on the whole, no worse. She mustn't be seen to-night, of course, but, perhaps, if you could call round in the morning with the rector"
"Of course—of course! Poor girl—and Dr.
